In a room filled with journalists from across the Pacific, Andrew Drummond, the editor-in-chief of the Australian Associated Press, delivered a message that was both sobering and deeply personal. Speaking on the opening day of the 2026 Pacific Islands News Association Summit in Savusavu, Fiji, Drummond shared a finding from the United Nations Global Risk Report 2024 that should have stopped every person in the room in their tracks: misinformation and disinformation now rank as the third-highest risk among the top ten risks facing the world in the digital era. That means the deliberate or accidental spread of false information is considered a greater global threat than large-scale wars, natural hazards, and geopolitical tensions. It is a strange and unsettling thought, that words and images on a screen could outrank bombs and floods, but it is the reality we are living in. When lies travel faster than truth, when algorithms reward anger, and when people cannot agree on basic facts, the very foundation of society begins to crumble. Drummond did not present this as a distant, abstract problem. He framed it as a challenge to every journalist in the room and to the profession as a whole, reminding his audience that people everywhere are crying out for something they can believe in, something reliable in a sea of confusion.
At its heart, the problem of misinformation and disinformation is about the erosion of trust, and to understand why it has become such a dangerous global risk, it helps to understand the difference between the two. Misinformation refers to false information that is shared without the intent to deceive, perhaps a well-meaning person forwarding a rumor or a misleading headline without checking the facts. Disinformation, on the other hand, is deliberately crafted and spread to manipulate, confuse, or harm, often by people with political, financial, or ideological motives. Both are dangerous, but together they create a toxic information environment where people no longer know what to believe. In the Pacific, where communities are tightly knit and where family and social connections are central to daily life, false information can move through village networks, church groups, and social media channels with astonishing speed. A rumor about a health outbreak, a false warning about a cyclone, or a manipulated image of a political leader can cause real panic, real harm, and real division. The UN report’s ranking reminds us that this is not just a media industry problem. It affects every part of society, from public health to disaster preparedness to democracy itself. When people cannot agree on what is true, they cannot work together to solve shared problems, and that makes every other crisis worse. That is why Drummond’s warning matters so much, and why journalists in the Pacific have a responsibility that goes far beyond simply reporting the news.
Drummond’s response to this crisis was not a complicated one, but it was powerful. He called for a press that acts with integrity, a press that stands up for the vulnerable, and a press that delivers facts that break through the noise. These words may sound like noble ideals, but they are also a practical survival guide for journalism in a world drowning in half-truths and lies. Acting with integrity means refusing to cut corners, refusing to chase clicks at the expense of accuracy, and refusing to let fear or political pressure silence difficult stories. Standing up for the vulnerable means remembering that journalism exists to serve ordinary people, not just the powerful, and that the effects of misinformation are often felt most deeply by those who already have the least access to reliable information. A false story about a new law, a misleading article about a vaccination campaign, or a manipulated video of a disaster can hit a rural farmer, a young mother, or an elderly person far harder than it hits a politician or an official. Breaking through the noise means producing work that is so clear, so honest, and so well-sourced that it stands out in a crowded and chaotic digital space. It means being willing to say, “This is what we know, this is how we know it, and this is what we still need to find out.” That kind of journalism is not easy, but it is exactly what audiences around the world are looking for. They are not looking for perfect answers or endless opinion; they are looking for a reason to trust someone again.
Drummond’s address also focused on the Pacific media landscape specifically, and what he said was both worrying and urgent. Misinformation and disinformation, he noted, continue to grow at an all-time high, and that growth is costing the journalism industry dearly in increasing levels of mistrust. In the Pacific, where media organizations are often small, under-resourced, and stretched across vast distances, the pressure is especially intense. Social media has become a major source of news for many people, not because it is reliable, but because it is free and immediate. What appears in a Facebook feed is often accepted without question, especially if it comes from a friend or a family member. That is the environment in which Pacific journalists now have to work, and it is an environment where their credibility is constantly being tested. Even when they do careful, accurate reporting, they must compete with viral rumors, eye-catching fake headlines, and manipulated images that are designed to provoke emotional reactions. Over time, this wears down public trust not only in individual journalists but in the very idea of a shared truth. When people begin to suspect that the news is always biased, always exaggerated, or always incomplete, they retreat into their own echo chambers, and that is when disinformation becomes even more powerful. To fight this, Pacific media need more than just warnings; they need resources, training, and support to sustain quality journalism. They need the public to understand that a reliable news outlet is a community asset, not a nuisance. And they need journalists to hold themselves to the highest possible standards, because in such a small and interconnected region, errors and corrections can have consequences that ripple far beyond the newsroom.
The rise of artificial intelligence has made this problem even more urgent, and Drummond was clear about what that means for journalists. As AI becomes better at generating text, images, and even video that looks completely real, the ability to create convincing misinformation is no longer limited to sophisticated state actors or professional spin doctors. Anyone with a computer and an internet connection can produce fake content in seconds. That is why Drummond insisted that verification remains essential to credible journalism, perhaps more than ever before. The role of a journalist is no longer just to report what happened; it is to separate the authentic from the fabricated, the evidence from the assumption, the signal from the noise. In some ways, this is an old challenge in a new form. Journalists have always been taught to check their sources, confirm their facts, and publish only after careful thought. But now the tools of deception have become so advanced that even experienced editors can be fooled by a realistic-looking photograph or a viral video that has been manipulated. This is why AAP has maintained its own fact-checking operation for several years, and why other news organizations must invest in similar efforts. Fact-checking is not a boring technical step; it is the heart and soul of journalism. It is the difference between being a witness and being a vehicle for propaganda. With AI in the picture, the temptation to publish quickly and apologize later becomes even more dangerous, because lies can circulate so widely before a correction is ever seen. Every journalist must learn to pause, to question, and to verify before sharing information, and newsrooms must make sure that this careful approach is celebrated rather than punished.
Drummond left his audience with a practical and perhaps uncomfortable challenge: do not simply accept what is put in front of you. If you receive a press release, tell the other side of the story. Scrutinize every document, every quote, every claim, and ensure transparency by presenting both sides of a story. This is not an attack on authority or a refusal to acknowledge good work by governments and institutions; it is a reminder that journalism’s greatest value lies in its independence. A press release is one version of the truth, often written to make someone look good or to shape public opinion in a particular way. It is the journalist’s job to dig deeper, to ask the uncomfortable questions, to seek out the voices that have been ignored, and to present the full picture to the public. That is what transparency means in practice, and it is also what builds trust in the long run. It may be easier to copy and paste an official statement, and it may be more comfortable to avoid conflict, but that is not journalism. Journalism requires courage, curiosity, and a commitment to the truth that cannot be shaken by popularity or pressure. As the summit continued in Savusavu, many journalists were surely reflecting on Drummond’s words, thinking about the power they hold and the responsibility that comes with it. In a digital age where misinformation and disinformation are among the greatest threats facing humanity, the world needs trustworthy reporters more than ever. For Pacific journalists, the task is clear: stay close to the truth, stay connected to the people, and never stop fighting through the noise, because their communities deserve nothing less.