It is becoming harder than ever to know what is true online. Every day, people scroll through endless posts, videos, and headlines, many of which look convincing but are completely false. With the rise of artificial intelligence, the problem has grown even more serious, because fake images, fabricated voice recordings, and lifelike videos can now be created in seconds by almost anyone. This has led public officials to plead with ordinary citizens to slow down and think before hitting the share button. The concern is not just about being fooled; it is about becoming part of the problem. When someone shares false information, whether intentionally or by accident, they help it reach more people and give it a false sense of credibility. This is why the message from online safety leaders is so urgent: verify first, share later. It sounds simple, but in a world where news breaks constantly and emotions run high, pausing to check facts is often the last thing on people’s minds. Yet that pause could mean the difference between a responsible citizen and someone who quietly fuels confusion, fear, and division. The call is not just for governments or tech companies to act, but for every single person who has a smartphone to take ownership of what they put into the digital world.
Filipe Batiwale, Fiji’s Online Safety Commissioner, made this point clearly while responding to questions on the fijivillage Straight Talk Public Forum with Vijay Narayan. When asked whether stronger laws and regulations are needed to deal with people who spread misinformation and unverified information, Batiwale offered a balanced answer. He did not dismiss the value of laws, acknowledging that policies and legal frameworks can help discourage the spread of misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation. But he stressed that laws alone are not enough. He turned the spotlight back onto the public, reminding everyone that they also have a duty to check what they see and read online. This is not about blaming victims or excusing bad actors; it is about building a culture of careful thinking. Batiwale’s message is essentially a gentle but firm call to action: when you come across something online, don’t let your feelings make the decision for you. Instead, stop and ask yourself where the information came from, whether the source can be trusted, and whether the claims make sense. If you are unsure, seek information directly from the relevant organisations or official channels. This kind of verification might take an extra minute or two, but it is a small price to pay for helping keep the digital space honest and safe. Batiwale also reminded the public that the Online Safety Commission is there to help, not just to police. Through education and awareness programmes, the Commission can teach people how to recognise false information and how to navigate the confusing landscape of online content with greater confidence.
The practical advice from Batiwale is simple yet deeply important. The first step is to stop, not just physically but mentally, before reacting to shocking or emotional posts. Many false stories are designed to trigger anger, fear, or outrage, precisely because those emotions make people act impulsively. When you feel a strong reaction to something you have just read, that is often a warning sign that the content is trying to manipulate you. The second step is to verify the source. Ask yourself whether you have heard of the website or account that posted the information. Does it have a reputation for accuracy, or does it seem to exist only to stir up controversy? Look for official sources, established news organisations, or the original institutions involved in the matter. If the information concerns government decisions, health warnings, or public safety, go straight to the relevant authorities. Third, check whether other independent and trustworthy outlets are reporting the same thing. If a story is true, it will usually be covered by multiple reliable sources. If it is only spreading through social media posts, chain messages, or unknown websites, that is a red flag. Batiwale’s message echoes a broader worldwide movement toward media literacy, teaching people not to simply consume information but to question it intelligently. This does not mean becoming cynical or doubting everything; it means developing healthy scepticism, especially when the stakes are high. The online world is not separate from the real world. What spreads online can influence elections, harm reputations, endanger public health, and even incite violence. Therefore, verifying information is not just a personal skill; it is an act of social responsibility. When you refuse to share unverified claims, you protect not only yourself but also the people in your community who might have been misled.
Fiji Law Reform Commissioner David Solvalu offered a complementary perspective. He pointed out that there are already legal provisions dealing with misinformation in specific areas, particularly in electoral laws and business practices. For example, false statements in an election campaign can be treated differently from misleading advertising in a commercial context. These existing laws show that societies have long recognised the danger of lies and deception, but they were designed for a time when information moved slowly and through controlled channels. The internet changed all of that. Solvalu acknowledged that social media has dramatically transformed the scale of the problem. In the past, producing and distributing misinformation required resources, like a printing press, a radio station, or at least an established organisation. Today, anyone can create a convincing-looking post or video and share it with thousands, even millions, of people within hours or minutes. This means that false information no longer depends on powerful groups or governments; it can come from a single individual with a phone and an emotional message. That is both the beauty and the danger of the modern information age. People can speak directly to the world and challenge official narratives, which is good for democracy. But they can also flood the world with harmful lies and manipulate public opinion without ever being held accountable. Solvalu’s point is not that laws are useless, but that the legal system is struggling to keep up with the pace and reach of digital communication.
Solvalu went on to say that this difficulty is not unique to Fiji. Countries around the world are wrestling with the same challenge, and none have found a perfect solution. Some governments have passed strict laws imposing heavy penalties on people who spread false news, while others have pressured tech companies to remove harmful content. But these approaches raise difficult questions about freedom of speech, because the line between harmful misinformation and legitimate opinion is not always clear. Who decides what is true? What happens if the government or a powerful corporation uses the law to silence critics? These are not theoretical concerns. In many places, the fight against misinformation has been used as an excuse to suppress independent journalism or dissenting voices. This is why Solvalu believes that public education and awareness are among the strongest ways of addressing the problem. Laws may create consequences after a lie has already caused harm, and regulations may restrict the worst excesses, but education works at the source. It changes how people think, how they question, and how they decide whether to spread something. Education builds a kind of immune system for the mind, making it more resistant to manipulation. It is not fast or dramatic, and it does not produce sudden headlines, but it is sustainable. If more people understand how misinformation works, why it spreads, and what tactics it uses, they become less likely to fall for it and less likely to share it with others. This is why the emphasis on awareness matters so much. It is a long-term investment in the health of society, one that can protect democracy and trust for generations to come.
In the end, the message from both commissioners is one of shared responsibility and quiet hope. They are not saying that laws are irrelevant or that technology companies can simply do what they like. Instead, they are saying that the fight against misinformation will only succeed if everyone plays a part. Governments can create stronger legal tools, and platforms can improve how they detect and label false content, but the ultimate power lies with the people. Each time a person chooses to verify before sharing, they make the digital space slightly safer. Each time someone teaches a friend or family member how to spot a suspicious post, they create a ripple of awareness that reaches far beyond the original conversation. This is what humanising the problem means: recognising that behind every post, share, and thread there is a human being making a choice. Fear, anger, and indifference are human emotions, but so are curiosity, caution, and compassion. By appealing to the better side of human nature, leaders like Batiwale and Solvalu are trying to move the conversation away from panic and blame and toward practical action. They remind us that misinformation is not an unstoppable force or a mystery beyond our control. It is a behaviour, and behaviours can change. With patience, education, and a little more thoughtfulness, we can learn to navigate the online world with greater wisdom and integrity. The future of information will not be perfect, but it can be better, starting with each of us doing our part to stop the noise and help the truth be heard.