In a world increasingly connected by screens, a dark shadow has been growing, often unnoticed until it’s too late. Over the last three years, the most popular social media platforms—TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube—have seen an alarming 312% surge in hate and misinformation. We’ve all been touched by it, whether we’ve witnessed a hateful comment, felt the sting of a false accusation, or even fallen victim to engineered lies. It’s a pervasive digital sickness, designed to pull us in, fuel our anger, and keep us coming back for more. While many nations are stepping up to protect their citizens from this online harm, Canada, surprisingly, has been slow to react. This critical gap, coupled with the platforms’ own failure to curb the tide, has left a void. But in this digital wilderness, a beacon of determination has emerged: The Toronto Holocaust Museum, in an impactful partnership with the creative agency Diamond, decided it was time to fight back. They understood that the silence of inaction was no longer an option, particularly for an institution whose very existence warns of the catastrophic consequences of unchecked hatred.
What makes online misinformation so insidious is its cunning design. It’s crafted to be addictive, much like other harmful products. It thrives on sensationalism and raw emotion, traits that the algorithms of social media are engineered to amplify, turning a spark of falsehood into a raging wildfire. This engineered virality reinforces hateful narratives, drawing more people into their toxic embrace. Recognizing this dangerous parallel, the Toronto Holocaust Museum and Diamond concocted a brilliant, yet startling, plan: to treat misinformation like the harmful, addictive product it is. They decided to label it, much like cigarettes or alcohol carry health warnings. And so, “Hate Tags” was born – a crucial, much-needed warning system for the digital age, a stark reminder that even in the virtual world, words can have devastating real-world consequences. Dara Solomon, the executive director of the Toronto Holocaust Museum, articulates their mission with profound clarity: “As an institution educating on the enduring lessons of the Holocaust, we deeply understand that when hate, propaganda, and misinformation spread, the consequences can be devastating. Its legacy serves as a broader warning about the real-world dangers of unchecked hate and the responsibility we all share to confront it.” Solomon emphasizes that Hate Tags isn’t just about one type of hatred; it’s a broad assault on all forms of misinformation, from ideological extremism to race, religion, and gender-based prejudice. It’s a comprehensive defense against the digital poison seeping into our collective consciousness.
On May 12th, the digital battle began. A new profile, @Hatetags, appeared on the scene, not as a typical user, but as a digital warrior, a kind of internet vigilante. This account wasn’t just observing; it was actively engaging, using the very tactics employed by those who spread misinformation. It leveraged algorithms, understood viral mechanics, and employed the “tricks of the trade” that hate creators use to amplify their harmful, addictive content. Hate Tags began purchasing media space, strategically placing its warnings directly next to content that most brands would actively avoid. This was a deliberate interception—a way to put a critical pause before hateful content could be fully absorbed. Armed with predictive AI and a comprehensive list of keywords, and by reverse-engineering the platforms’ algorithms, their message was simple yet powerful: “Think critically and view with caution, as misinformation can cause real-world harm.” But they didn’t stop at ads. Hate Tags delved into the comments sections, tagging dangerous content on Instagram and TikTok directly. Each time a comment was shadow-banned or deleted, they learned, they adapted. They observed the hate spreaders, mimicked their actions, but for a wholly different purpose – for good. They even employed bot farms, not to spread lies, but to amplify their warnings, to boost their cause, and to increase their visibility, turning the very tools of deception into instruments of truth.
The creative directors at Diamond, Jordan Cohen and Mark Holden, captured the essence of their strategy perfectly: “Who hasn’t thought, ‘why doesn’t the internet have warning labels?’ It’s such an obvious hole. But closing it meant being smarter, faster, and willing to use the same tricks bad actors use, against them.” They recognized that talk alone wouldn’t solve the problem. While countless organizations discuss the pervasive issue of online hate, Cohen and Holden wanted to be the ones to actually do something. And their efforts yielded immediate and undeniable results. Hundreds of thousands of users encountered Hate Tags’ warning labels, prompting them to approach potentially harmful content with a critical eye. But the campaign also exposed a deeply troubling reality about the platforms themselves. While Hate Tags’ efforts led to the removal of a few videos, the most astonishing revelation was the sheer volume of hate directed at Hate Tags. In many instances, the museum’s carefully crafted warning comments were flagged and removed by the platforms, while the actual hate-filled comments they were addressing remained untouched. Even more disturbingly, in an unsettling twist of irony, dozens of antisemitic and anti-Israel comments mysteriously appeared on the pre-roll ads for the campaign itself, showcasing the very problem they were trying to combat and highlighting the urgent need for robust platform accountability. This deeply concerning experience underscored the painful reality that these platforms, despite their immense resources, were doing shockingly little to combat hate, and in some cases, were inadvertently protecting it.
The Toronto Holocaust Museum, through this bold initiative, has taken a crucial first step in adding necessary warning labels to the vast ocean of hate content on social media. But their mission extends far beyond these initial actions. To drive genuine, lasting change and to stem the ceaseless tide of online hate and misinformation, they acknowledge that a broader, more systemic solution is required. It’s a call to action for lawmakers, urging them to mandate warning labels across all social media platforms. This isn’t just about a single campaign; it’s about fundamentally altering the digital landscape, making it safer and more responsible for everyone. Today, as the museum publicly reveals its pivotal role in the Hate Tags campaign, they are extending an invitation to all. They encourage everyone to visit hatetags.com, to learn more about the initiative, and most importantly, to sign the petition. This petition is a powerful tool, a collective voice advocating for permanent warning labels on all social platforms, ensuring that the critical lessons learned from history are applied to our digital future.
This groundbreaking campaign, encompassing its creative vision and its digital presence, was meticulously developed by the agency partner Diamond, with crucial support from Epitaph for paid media execution and Heads+Tales handling public relations. It’s a testament to the power of collaboration and a shared commitment to justice in the digital age. In a world where hate can spread at the speed of light, the Toronto Holocaust Museum and its partners are showing us that thoughtful, strategic action, combined with unwavering courage, can indeed shine a light into the darkest corners of the internet. They remind us that the fight against hate, whether online or offline, is a collective responsibility, and that history, though sometimes painful, offers invaluable lessons for navigating the present and shaping a more humane future.

