Imagine scrolling through your feed and seeing a headline that feels true, maybe even shares some familiar facts, but something feels off. With AI-generated images, voices, and articles becoming harder to distinguish from reality, more and more Australians are asking the same quiet question: “What can I actually trust?” It’s not just a personal frustration—it’s a public emergency. According to Elizabeth Tydd, the Australian Information Commissioner, the solution isn’t to scroll faster or doubt everything. It’s to turn back to something older and more reliable: credible, accessible government information. Speaking on the International Day for Universal Access to Information on 28 September, Tydd issued a timely warning. As falsehoods spread faster than ever, she argued that trusted government information isn’t just a bureaucratic product—it’s one of the strongest defenses we have against the growing tide of digital confusion. In her words, “Information integrity is the antidote to information disorder.” The idea is simple but profound: when public authorities proactively open their doors and share trustworthy facts, people are far less likely to fill the silence with rumors, half-truths, or the polished fabrications of bad actors. In a world where algorithms can make anything look official, having a dependable source of truth is no longer a luxury. It is a necessity.
But what does “information integrity” actually mean in everyday life, and why does it matter so much now? Tydd’s message cuts through the jargon. “When public authorities proactively release information, and it’s easy to find,” she said, “people are less likely to rely on unofficial or unreliable sources, and more likely to make informed decisions based upon credible government data.” That’s not just a statement about government websites—it’s about the basic human need to understand the world and make choices with confidence. Whether you’re deciding about a new vaccine, checking the flood risk for your street, or simply trying to understand government policy around housing, having a clear and trustworthy source changes everything. And this isn’t only valuable for human readers. AI systems are hungry for data, and they tend to learn from whatever they can scrape from the internet. If the internet is full of confusion and falsehoods, AI will happily absorb and repeat that confusion. Tydd’s point is that the same credible government data that helps people also injects accuracy into AI-generated outputs. In other words, by keeping publicly held information open and honest, we are quite literally feeding the machine better raw material. The Office of the Australian Information Commissioner (OAIC) has taken note of this challenge, arguing that making authoritative information readily accessible provides not only a reliable source for the public but also a steady anchor for artificial intelligence systems. Tydd even suggested that the increasing demand for government information should be welcomed as part of the solution, not treated as a burden. In her view, government responsiveness to threats against information integrity could become a test of our democratic institutions themselves.
This isn’t simply a technical debate about data management—it’s a conversation about who we are as a democratic society. Tydd reminded listeners that “information access and information integrity – in a world that is grappling with misinformation and disinformation – promote our shared democratic principles and structures.” When citizens can verify what their leaders are doing, hold institutions accountable, and participate in public life from a place of solid understanding, democracy breathes. For this year’s international event, the OAIC chose the theme “Transparency + Access = Information Integrity,” with practical aims embedded in the equation. Proactive disclosure—meaning governments don’t wait to be asked—strong recordkeeping, and timely access to information are the building blocks of public trust. These are not abstract ideals; they are habits and commitments that must be practiced every day. To put these principles into action, the OAIC held its flagship event on 21 September at the Museum of Australian Democracy in Canberra, bringing together more than 400 freedom of information practitioners, civil society representatives, information management professionals, and leaders from the Australian Public Service. The event’s title, “Upholding information integrity: Combating mis- and dis-information in the Digital Age,” perfectly captured the mood. It wasn’t a dry conference of technicalities; it was a collective effort to figure out how democratic societies keep their footing in a century where facts are constantly under siege.
One of the most reassuring voices at the event was Freedom of Information Commissioner Alice Linacre, who delivered a message that might seem old-fashioned in an era of algorithmic wonder: the fundamentals still matter. “Through proactive disclosure of information, strong recordkeeping and timely access to information, trust is built,” Linacre said. No matter how sophisticated technology becomes, no matter how advanced AI becomes, the relationship between a government and its citizens still depends on openness and honesty. The tools may change, but the foundation doesn’t. And Australians seem to agree with her. According to last year’s Cross-jurisdictional Information Access Study, 96 per cent of Australians consider the right to access government-held information important or very important. Let that sink in—that’s not a small subset of civic-minded activists. That is essentially everyone. It cuts across generation, background, and political belief. It suggests that, despite all the noise online, there is an enormous hunger for clarity and authenticity. People want a source of record they can point to and say, “This is real.” They want to know that someone is keeping the official story honest. And they want that access to be simple, not hidden behind confusing portals or long waits. Linacre’s words are a reminder that trust is not manufactured in grand speeches or flashy digital tools; it is built slowly, through everyday habits of transparency.
The conversation around access to information is also becoming more practical and user-facing. In a huge step forward, the OAIC and its counterparts have endorsed a common access to information icon for Commonwealth, state, and territory government websites. It sounds like a small design choice, but think about what it really means. If you are looking for information about your rights, your health, your environment, or your finances, a consistent icon acts like a familiar doorway. It tells you: “This is a trusted space. You have the right to be here, and the information you find will be reliable.” In a digital world where every website can look convincing, that familiar symbol becomes a small but significant shield against imposters. It also solves a very practical problem: Australians don’t always know which level of government to ask when they need help. Federal, state, local—where exactly should you go? A consistent icon across jurisdictions makes the journey easier. You don’t need to become an expert in government structure just to find out what your leaders are doing. The icon represents a promise that access is not a privilege granted to the persistent and educated; it is a right for every citizen, and it should be easy to exercise. This move reflects a deeper shift away from thinking of information as a resource that governments reluctantly release, and toward a culture where openness is woven into the experience of citizenship.
Looking ahead, the work is far from finished. The OAIC’s International Access to Information Day program continues through 4 October, with Linacre expected to participate on 29 September in the International Conference of Information Commissioners. Perhaps even more symbolically, Australia will be part of the International Day for Universal Access to Information in 2026, to be held in Sierra Leone. That global connection matters. It reminds us that the fight for truthful, accessible government information is not unique to Australia; it is a shared project for every democracy around the world. As technology races ahead and disinformation becomes more sophisticated, the need for trustworthy institutions only intensifies. But there is hope in the fact that people are paying attention. They care deeply about honesty, they expect open government, and they are willing to defend the idea that access to information is a fundamental right. The story of information integrity is ultimately a story about humans—about our desire to not be fooled, about our need to participate in decisions that shape our lives, and about our faith that somewhere in the system, the truth is being preserved. Elizabeth Tydd, Alice Linacre, and the many other officials and practitioners working on these issues are not just guardians of documents; they are guardians of a democratic culture. They remind us that, even in an age of deepfakes and viral falsehoods, we have tools to fight back. The most powerful of those tools may be as simple as an open government, a willing public, and the courage to say, “Let the information speak.”