MORGANTOWN — The phone is always there, glowing in a hand, on a desk, or propped against a coffee cup at breakfast. For millions of Americans, it is the first place they turn to in the morning and the last thing they look at before falling asleep. It is where they check on friends, laugh at memes, and, increasingly, where they try to make sense of the world. National polling shows that more than half of US adults now get at least some of their news from social media, and that number has been growing steadily for years. That means the same feed that serves up a family vacation photo can also deliver a breaking political headline, often with no clear boundary between what is verified journalism and what is simply someone’s opinion with a caption. For people like Megan Gary, a West Virginia University student, this mix is exhausting. She wants to believe what she sees, but she knows better. “I would like to trust what I see on social media but at the end of the day I know that I shouldn’t,” she said. That feeling is not limited to college students. People of all ages are scrolling through political memes, policy claims, and partisan arguments, and many are struggling to figure out what is real. The Pew Research Center has found that over half of US adults get at least some news from social media, including in local communities, yet another Pew survey found that only 56 percent of US adults trust what they see on these platforms. The gap between consumption and trust is a strange place to live, and it is becoming the new normal.
In that uncertain space, misinformation has room to breathe. According to Matthew Jacobsmeier, an associate professor of political science at West Virginia University, social media has changed the way falsehoods spread in ways that traditional media never allowed. “One big concern is that it’s much easier to spread misinformation on social media than it was using traditional media,” he explained. In the past, news went through editors, producers, and fact-checkers before reaching the public. Mistakes could still happen, but there were systems in place to catch them. Now, anyone with a smartphone can create a post that looks like news, share it with thousands of people in an instant, and watch it take on a life of its own. There is no required fact-checker before the post appears in someone’s feed, and social media platforms themselves are not reliable guardians of truth. Jacobsmeier noted that you cannot force these platforms to check facts for you, which is why misleading content can spread so quickly. A local survey by West Virginia Today’s Instagram account found that all 23 respondents had seen at least some political content on social media, and nine said they get most of their political news there. That is a small poll, but it reflects a larger pattern. For many voters, especially younger ones, social media is not just an add-on to their news diet; it is the main course. And when that news arrives without context, sourcing, or verification, it leaves people feeling both informed and uneasy at the same time.
One of the most troubling effects of this shift is what it does to the way we talk to each other. Social media does not simply deliver news; it interprets it through algorithms designed to keep us engaged. Those algorithms often show us content that confirms what we already believe, and they reward outrage, conflict, and strong emotional reactions. Studies have shown that this can push people further apart politically. A study published in the journal Science found that people who viewed and interacted with posts expressing anti-democratic attitudes and partisan animosity showed an increase in polarization, along with more negative feelings toward the opposing political group. In other words, the more people engage with hostile political content, the more entrenched they become in their own side, and the less willing they are to consider another perspective. This widens the divide between parties and makes it harder for voters to encounter news from different points of view. Jacobsmeier sees this in everyday life. Nowadays, if you disagree with someone on a policy, it can lead to deep division rather than a simple discussion. A difference of opinion becomes a personal attack, and the middle ground seems to disappear. Social media may not be the only reason for this, but it is certainly part of it. When people are constantly shown the worst of the other side, they start to believe that the other side is entirely made up of bad actors. The nuance of real life gets flattened into caricature, and political conversations become minefields.
But social media is not without its bright spots, especially around elections. Jacobsmeier pointed out that these platforms invite people to openly share their thoughts and opinions, and they give politicians a direct line to voters in a way that was unthinkable just a few decades ago. Candidates no longer have to rely only on expensive television ads or press releases that might be ignored. They can post a video, answer a question, or share a personal moment in seconds. That has been a game changer for people running for office, including in local races where campaign budgets are small. Sen. Mike Oliverio, R-Monongalia, who is running for re-election, said that the rise of social media has given politicians a new way to connect with voters over the past five or six years. “There’s so much more activity now with social media. All the different options that are available to you as a candidate to reach people, and it affords you a lot of opportunities at a much lower cost,” he said. For challengers and incumbents alike, that means a candidate with a good message but limited funds can still get their ideas in front of the public. Delegate John Williams, D-Monongalia, who is running against Oliverio for his state Senate seat, has embraced this new world with energy. He juggles a soccer ball on TikTok while talking about the issues, and he posts Instagram stories while knocking on doors across the district. For Williams, social media is not a distraction; it is an efficient way to connect with voters of all ages. “Being on social media is how you’re able to get that information out. In an educated public who knows what’s going on in Charleston, they’re going to be able to hold the Legislature to account,” he said. That kind of direct engagement is genuinely valuable. It gives voters a chance to see the human side of candidates, to ask questions, and to feel like they have a seat at the table.
At the same time, Williams is well aware of the dangers. He worries about misinformation spreading across the same platforms that make his campaign possible, and he warns voters to be careful. “Anyone with good ideas and a cell phone can get their ideas out there. As citizens, we have to be careful of that too because that means there are a lot of ideas out there that are coming from false information,” he said. That warning speaks directly to the experience of voters like Megan Gary. She would love to trust the information that shows up in her feed, especially because it is so accessible and so convenient. But she has seen too many examples of stories that sound true but turn out to be distorted, photos taken out of context, and inflammatory claims designed to divide people. It makes her hesitate before hitting the share button, and it makes her wonder which sources she can actually rely on. Her uncertainty is not a sign of laziness or ignorance. It is a rational response to an environment where misinformation is not just possible but common. In a world where anyone can be a publisher, the burden of verification falls on the reader, and that is a heavy load to carry, especially during election season. Voters have to become their own fact-checkers, their own editors, and their own media literacy teachers, all while trying to stay informed enough to make good decisions at the ballot box.
Complicating matters even further is the rise of political influencers, people who have built large followings online and who are now being paid to promote candidates or causes. This is becoming increasingly common in American politics, and it is often hidden from view. Jacobsmeier says that some campaigns pay influencers for political support and endorsements, but the influencers frequently do not tell their viewers that they are being paid. “It’s much easier for campaigns to pay influencers and influencers not let anybody know that they’ve been paid to promote a certain candidate or certain policy,” he said. The lack of honesty is troubling because viewers may believe they are watching an organic, heartfelt endorsement when in reality it is a business transaction. That can lead people to trust someone who is not being truthful about why they are promoting a particular candidate, and it further erodes the already fragile trust in political information. There is no easy fix for this problem. Social media is too big, too fast, and too messy to be controlled or regulated into perfect honesty. Jacobsmeier acknowledged that there is no way to stop social media from becoming a strong force in political campaigning and news. It is here to stay, and it will only become more influential as time goes on. The best that voters can do is to slow down, ask questions, and remember that the content in their feed is not the same as verified truth. In the end, the challenge is not just about technology or policy; it is about human nature. We want to stay informed, but we also want to feel that we belong, that we are on the right side, and that the world makes sense. Social media feeds all of those desires, sometimes at the expense of the facts. The question is not whether we will keep using it, but whether we can learn to approach it with both openness and caution, carrying the same careful skepticism that Megan Gary already knows she needs.