There are moments when political rhetoric cuts through the noise and captures something deeper, and Andy Burnham’s response to Vladimir Putin’s disinformation campaigns is one of those moments. The Greater Manchester Mayor did not mince words. He called the Kremlin’s efforts to sow division in the UK “repulsive and insidious,” and his fury was not abstract. It was directed at a very real form of warfare—one that targets minds and emotions, not soldiers and cities. Burnham’s warning came against a backdrop of growing concern inside government that hostile states, Russia chief among them, have been waging an invisible war on British society for years. The Prime Minister had already responded by ordering security chiefs to establish a new unit to counter these threats. The National Centre for Information Defence, announced at the United Nations General Assembly in New York, is designed to protect British interests from online lies, deepfakes, and digital manipulation. But Burnham’s remarks went beyond policy. He wanted people to understand what is at stake: the very sense of shared reality that holds communities together. When foreign actors can twist what people believe about their own country, they are not just interfering with elections; they are attacking democracy itself. Burnham’s language was deliberately strong because he believes the threat is that serious. “Insidious” is apt. It describes something that creeps in quietly, unnoticed, until it has already done its damage. That is how Russian information operations work. They do not announce themselves. They flourish in social media comment sections, in forwarded messages, in seemingly authentic websites built by foreign intelligence. By the time the truth emerges, the lie has already lodged itself in someone’s mind. That is why Burnham’s emotional response matters. He is not just listing threats; he is asking the public to wake up to a danger many would prefer to ignore.
Burnham described the problem as an “industrial-scale assault” on the UK and its allies. These are not random acts of trolling. They are coordinated operations involving vast resources and a sophisticated understanding of human psychology. Russian agencies, he said, have used every means at their disposal to spread lies and disinformation, preying on people’s fears. The tools are familiar to anyone who spends time online: automated bots that amplify certain messages, fake websites that mimic legitimate news outlets, and forged articles designed to look as though they came from trusted sources. Burnham revealed that Russian operatives had forged the branding of 28 British organisations, including universities and the BBC. That detail is worth pausing over. The BBC is one of the most trusted media institutions in the world. To fake its branding is an attempt to hijack credibility that takes decades to build. If people cannot trust the news or the sources they see, then everything becomes suspect. Reality itself becomes a matter of opinion. That is precisely what the Kremlin wants. Burnham also highlighted the Kremlin’s willingness to amplify far-right narratives, feeding existing social tensions and pushing them toward conflict. This is not about creating new divisions; it is about finding fault lines that already exist and making them wider. The most alarming revelation was that Russian operatives tried to interfere with the 2019 general election. Elections are the ultimate expression of democratic will. When a hostile state attempts to influence their outcome, it strikes at the heart of national sovereignty. Burnham said the evidence exists, and the implications are enormous. The fact that the UK has not fully grappled with this—that there has not been more public outrage, more accountability, more urgency—is itself a sign of how insidious the campaign has been. People have become so accustomed to online chaos and political polarisation that they no longer recognise the hand of a foreign adversary. Burnham’s speech was an attempt to pull back the curtain and show the machinery behind the manipulation. It is a disturbing picture, but one that demands attention.
At the United Nations, the Prime Minister reinforced Burnham’s warning with stark figures and a sobering forecast. The Kremlin, he said, spends around £1.3 billion a year on manipulating information. To put that in perspective, it is more than many countries spend on their entire public broadcasting systems. It is a budget dedicated not to informing people, but to deceiving them. The Prime Minister also made clear that the problem is only going to get worse. The rise of artificial intelligence means that disinformation tools are becoming cheaper, more powerful, and harder to detect. Deepfakes—videos and audio recordings that convincingly show people saying or doing things they never did—are already being deployed in elections around the world. As AI develops, the ability to fabricate reality will become available to anyone with a laptop. The Prime Minister described the campaign as one that reaches into people’s homes and twists what they feel about their own country and community. It creates a narrative of decline, stokes division, and sows despair. That last word is important. The goal is not just to change minds; it is to drain people of hope. A population that believes its country is failing will not fight back. It will retreat into cynicism, and democracy will wither. The Prime Minister also noted that the campaign is not limited to information. Cyber-attacks on British companies and institutions are part of the same strategy. They disrupt economies, steal data, and undermine public confidence. With AI, the threat will multiply. Imagine a world where every person receives a personalised piece of disinformation tailored to their fears and biases. Imagine political opponents framed by fabricated videos that look real. This is not a distant dystopia; it is a trajectory we are already on. The new National Centre for Information Defence is an attempt to change course. It will bring together experts in cybersecurity, intelligence, and technology to counter hostile operations. But it will not be enough by itself. Governments can build institutions, but they cannot force people to think critically. Burnham is calling for a cultural shift, not just a bureaucratic one. The fight against disinformation must be taken up by every citizen, school, media outlet, and platform.
Burnham did not limit himself to describing the problem. He offered a path forward, and his message was directed at both the political class and the public. He warned that young people not in education, employment, or training—so-called NEETs—are “much more vulnerable” to Russia’s online misinformation. This is a crucial point. It is easy to imagine a sophisticated foreign agent in a dark room crafting elaborate conspiracies. In reality, the people most affected are often those who are already isolated, struggling, and disconnected from institutions that provide belonging. For a young person without a job or educational opportunities, the internet can be both a lifeline and a trap. It offers connection, but also a stream of content designed to exploit frustration. Russian disinformation does not target people with reasoned arguments; it targets them with emotional appeals that validate anger and offer simple explanations for complex problems. Burnham acknowledged that the UK has “tiptoed around this for too long.” For over a decade, he said, too much ground has been given to those who want to run a negative, corrosive narrative about life in Britain—a narrative that bears no resemblance to reality. This is a striking admission. It suggests the problem is not just foreign interference, but also a failure of domestic confidence. When people are constantly told their country is broken, they become more receptive to malicious narratives. Burnham’s solution is not to suppress criticism. It is to offer a more compelling, truthful, and positive vision. “We are going to face the new decade in a different way—with our eyes wide open,” he said. “We are going to be much prouder in standing up for our values and the rule of law.” That final phrase is essential. The rule of law is a pillar of liberal democracy. Standing up for it means defending truth, fairness, and accountability. Burnham’s language is deliberately unfashionable. In an era of irony and cynicism, he talks about pride and values without embarrassment. That may feel naive, but it is actually a sophisticated response. Disinformation thrives on cynicism. It asks people to believe nothing is true. The antidote is not more cynicism; it is a renewed commitment to the principles that hold democratic societies together.
The implications of Burnham’s argument extend far beyond the immediate threat of Russian interference. He is describing a systemic vulnerability that all open societies now share. The digital revolution has brought extraordinary benefits, but it has also created new avenues for exploitation. The same tools that allow people to organise, learn, and communicate allow hostile actors to manipulate, deceive, and divide. The question is whether democratic societies can adapt quickly enough. It is not just about setting up new government units. It is about building a culture of resilience. This means investing in media literacy so young people learn how to evaluate sources and identify manipulation. It means holding social media companies accountable for the content they amplify. It means supporting independent journalism that can expose disinformation without fear. It also means creating the social conditions in which disinformation is less likely to take root. People who feel hopeful about their future are less vulnerable to narratives of decline. People who feel connected to their communities are less susceptible to efforts to stoke division. People who have access to good jobs, education, and public services are less likely to blame immigrants, minorities, or foreign powers for their problems. The fight against disinformation, in other words, is not separate from the fight for a more just society. They are the same fight. Burnham’s reference to NEETs makes this connection explicit. If the state abandons a generation of young people, it should not be surprised when they turn to online echo chambers that tell them their abandonment is someone else’s fault. The Kremlin understands this. It does not need to create the anger; it simply needs to direct it. It identifies resentments and amplifies them with surgical precision. The only effective defence is to address underlying grievances while challenging the manipulation. That is a difficult balance. It requires honesty about real problems without allowing that honesty to become a tool for those who want to paint the country as irredeemably broken. It requires a robust public sphere where difficult conversations can happen without being hijacked. And it requires a recognition that the threat is not going away. Russian disinformation is a permanent feature of the geopolitical landscape. The UK must learn to fight it continuously, adaptively, and without losing sight of what it is defending. Burnham’s speech is a reminder that democracy is not a spectator sport.
In the end, Burnham’s message is both a warning and a declaration of intent. The warning is clear: hostile states are waging a relentless campaign to undermine democracy, and artificial intelligence is about to make that campaign far more dangerous. The declaration is equally clear: the UK will no longer stand by. The decision to create a National Centre for Information Defence is a recognition that this is central to national security. But the deeper significance of Burnham’s remarks lies in their moral clarity. He refuses to accept the cynicism that says all politics is manipulation and all truth is relative. He insists that there are such things as lies and truth, and that it matters which one wins. He insists that British values—democracy, the rule of law, fairness, tolerance—are worth defending, not because they are British, but because they are right. And he insists that people are not passive victims. They can be mobilised to defend what they believe in, if leaders are honest about the threat. The road ahead will not be easy. The forces of disinformation are powerful, patient, and well-funded. They will adapt to every new defence and find new vulnerabilities. There will be setbacks and uncomfortable questions about the balance between security and freedom. But the alternative to fighting is surrender. If democratic societies allow hostile actors to shape their information environment, they will lose the ability to shape their own future. They will become prisoners of a narrative that tells them they are weak, divided, and doomed. Burnham’s response is to reject that narrative and offer another one—a story of a country that knows its flaws but believes in its potential, a country that can confront difficult truths without being consumed by them, a country that is proud of its values and willing to defend them. It is a powerful vision at a crucial time. The new decade has brought challenges no one could have predicted. The last thing the world needs is a pandemic of lies and manipulation. But that pandemic is already here. The question is whether we meet it with denial, resignation, or resolve. Burnham has made his choice. He wants the UK to face the future with its eyes wide open—not in fear, but in determination. The threat is real, but so is the capacity to resist. That resistance begins with a shared commitment to truth and to each other. In an age of deepfakes and dark propaganda, that commitment is not naive. It is the most necessary act of all.