On a university auditorium in Dhaka, among students, professors, UNESCO representatives, and dignitaries, a senior government adviser stood before the crowd and offered a message that was less about policy and more about human behavior. He was there for Global Media and Information Literacy Week, and the stage belonged to East West University, which had organized a seminar to reflect on the relationship between information, democracy, and society. The adviser did not begin with slogans or statistics. Instead, he pointed to a truth that many people already feel but rarely say aloud: no law, no matter how strict or well-designed, can fully rid society of misinformation and disinformation. Such content may be filtered, blacklisted, or penalized after it spreads, but by then the damage is already done. The only real cure lies in prevention, and prevention begins with awareness. He stressed that students, parents, and especially elderly citizens must be educated about how to verify information before accepting it or sharing it. The setting was symbolic. A university is a place where critical thinking is supposed to be taught, where young people learn to challenge assumptions and test evidence. But media and information literacy is not only for the young. It is for everyone who has access to a screen, a message, and a sense of urgency to pass it on. The adviser’s speech, in the heart of an academic community, was a reminder that survival in the digital age depends on a skill that is still undervalued: the habit of questioning what we read, seeing who wrote it, and wondering why it was written at all. Without that habit, people become instruments of their own manipulation, unintentionally doing the work of those who spread falsehoods for profit, power, or chaos.
The adviser was quick to make clear that this problem is not unique to Bangladesh. Misinformation and disinformation, he said, are global challenges. Across the world, fabricated stories are being used to influence elections, destabilize governments, and set communities against one another. This is especially dangerous when false content is tied to politics, because it can turn ordinary citizens into enemies, heighten social divisions, and make people distrust not only the media but also democracy itself. Yet the situation in Bangladesh is more worrying, because public awareness about media and digital literacy remains dangerously low. Many people enter the internet without any kind of mental safety gear. They trust what they see, forward what they feel, and never ask where the information originated. The adviser then shared a compelling example that stuck with the audience. He said that when educated retired people are asked about the source of a piece of news they have shared, many of them answer simply that they found it on Facebook. These are people who spent their lives reading newspapers, respecting institutions, and valuing knowledge. But social media has given them access to a vast digital marketplace full of both information and lies, and no one has taught them how to tell the two apart. This is not ignorance in the ordinary sense; it is a modern form of vulnerability. Elderly citizens have begun using social media without the digital survival skills they need, and similar situations have appeared in many countries around the world. The point is not to blame them. The point is to protect them, and to make sure that the next generation does not repeat the same mistakes. Media literacy must become a shared family conversation, not an academic subject locked inside a classroom.
At the heart of the seminar lay an unavoidable policy question: what exactly should the government do? The adviser revealed that the government would establish an appropriate legal framework to fight disinformation. This is necessary, because without some form of regulation, malicious actors can spread harmful content with almost no consequences. But he stressed that laws alone are not enough. A law can punish a liar after a lie has already damaged a reputation, a community, or a national election, but it cannot stop people from being tempted by sensational, emotionally charged content. The only way to make people more resistant is through education and public awareness. This means integrating media literacy into school curricula, training teachers to talk about fake news, and creating public service messages that encourage people to verify information before sharing it. It also means reaching out to elderly social media users with practical lessons, perhaps through community centers, religious gatherings, or even videos on Facebook itself. In a way, legal action is like putting a lock on the door after the house has already been entered. It offers security for the future, but it does not repair the trust that has been broken. The adviser’s point was that a responsible society needs both the lock and the habit of checking the windows. If people are not taught to question evidence and evaluate sources, they will continue to fall for the cleverest lies, no matter how many laws are passed. A truly literate nation does not simply know how to read; it knows how to ask, “Who benefits from my believing this?” That is a skill that no regulation can create, but education can.
The conversation then moved toward the future, and the future is artificial intelligence. The adviser said that as the world enters the era of AI, new questions are being raised about how the technology should be used and regulated. AI has brought incredible possibilities, but it has also created new ways of generating believable falsehoods, manipulating voices, fabricating images, and producing deceptive content at scale. Companies like Anthropic, perhaps best understood as one of the emerging leaders in AI safety and ethics, are openly advocating for the development of regulatory and safety mechanisms. This is encouraging, because it suggests that at least some of the creators of this technology understand the dangers. But there is also a troubling possibility that it may already be too late to develop effective regulatory systems. The technology is advancing so quickly that policy, law, and public understanding are struggling to catch up. By the time a rule is designed, the technology has changed. By the time a society has learned to spot one kind of deepfake, another will have already appeared. This is a global race between innovation and wisdom, and at the moment, wisdom is losing. Bangladesh, like all other countries, must recognise the urgency of this moment. There is no one-size-fits-all solution, but there are steps to be taken: investing in research, building international networks of cooperation, and preparing citizens to be more suspicious of media that feels too perfect, too satisfying, or too convenient. The adviser insisted that tackling disinformation requires not only domestic initiatives but also greater communication and cooperation at the global level. No country can solve this alone. Falsehood does not respects borders, so truth cannot afford to guard them.
The event was not, however, solely a story of pessimism and warning. It was also a story about the power of institutions and the encouragement they can bring. The adviser praised East West University for observing Media and Information Literacy Week, calling the initiative timely and commendable. He then issued a clear challenge to other universities in Bangladesh: do the same. Educational institutions have a responsibility to go beyond teaching technical fields and help students become thoughtful, responsible citizens. A doctor who cannot detect misinformation may one day share a false cure and cause harm. An engineer who cannot evaluate information may help spread propaganda through the networks he builds. An economist who accepts a fake statistic without question may make policy decisions on unstable ground. Therefore, media literacy should not be a marginal subject, but a core element of higher education. The seminar itself reflected the kind of collaboration needed in this fight. East West University Board of Trustees Chairman and founding Vice-Chancellor Professor Dr. Mohammed Farashuddin presided over the programme. The Acting Vice-Chancellor Professor Dr. Ashik Mosaddik was there, as was Dr. Susan Vize, the UNESCO Representative to Bangladesh. Professor Dilara Begum presented a research report that likely provided data and deeper analysis for the discussions. Deans from various faculties, UNESCO representatives, teachers, and a large number of students filled the room. The scene was itself a small model of what media literacy looks like: multiple voices, different generations, and different forms of expertise all sitting together, listening to evidence, and engaging in dialogue. It was not a government speech delivered from behind a wall. It was an exchange, a public conversation, precisely the kind of activity that misinformation cannot survive because it creates too much light.
The final part of the adviser’s speech was directed to the students who had fallen silent in their seats. He urged them to look beyond their peers. They were asked to raise awareness not only among their friends but also among their parents and elderly relatives. The importance of this cannot be overstated. Young people may not yet have the authority that comes with age, but they often have something just as powerful: patience, digital ease, and the ability to explain. A student can sit beside a grandmother and show her how to check whether a website is trustworthy. A son can teach his father to look at the URL, read the “About Us” section, and notice whether the story is published by a known news organization or an anonymous page. These small private lessons are worth more than a thousand official campaigns, because they happen within relationships of trust. When a parent hears from a child, the warning is not just information; it is an act of love. The adviser warned that elderly people’s lack of awareness can create opportunities for the spread of disinformation and misleading campaigns. It is an uncomfortable thought, but it is true: in many families, the most vulnerable member is the one who is most enthusiastic about sharing WhatsApp messages. They do not do this because they wish to harm. They do it because they care, and because they feel social media gives them a way to participate in public life. It is up to the younger generation to respect that enthusiasm while guiding it safely. The seminar at East West University was part of a larger global movement that insists on a simple but profound idea: in a democracy, an informed citizen is not a luxury, but a necessity. Laws matter. Institutions matter. International cooperation matters. But in the end, what stands between a society and the flood of falsehood is the ability and willingness of ordinary people to stop, think, and verify. That is not a job for the government alone. It is a responsibility shared by teachers, universities, families, and each and every person who has ever pressed “share.” And if there is hope in the next generation, it lies in their ability to take that responsibility seriously and pass it on, one conversation at a time.