Babette De Naeyer (Pompeu Fabra University, Barcelona)
Last month, Mark Zuckerberg made headlines after declaring that Meta would stop its independent fact-checking program in the United States because it was “too politically biased.” The satirical news community was quick to respond. The Chaser mockingly posted: “‘Social media should not fact-check posts,’ says child molester Mark Zuckerberg,” which went so viral it even crashed the website. Meanwhile, The Hard Times headlined: “Mark Zuckerberg, Recipient of World’s First Rat Penis Transplant, Announces Meta Will Stop Fact-Checking.” Political activist Cheri Jacobus also joined in, posting a meme on X (do we still add “formerly Twitter” in brackets, or have we moved past that?).
It didn’t take long for actual journalists to report on the spread of misinformation about Meta’s CEO going viral. Shoutout to these journalists’ hard work – without it, we would have all been clueless! Although satirical news is as old as the news itself, it proved especially effective in calling out Zuckerberg here. Could there have been a more fitting way to give him a taste of his own medicine while making the point so aptly? Yet, this episode made me rethink the issue of satire and fake news: Are people mistakenly taking satire seriously? Is it contributing to the online spread of misinformation?
“Fake news” – a term experts argue should be avoided – can be defined as “information, presented as a news story, that is factually incorrect and designed to deceive the consumer into believing it is true.” There are different reasons why someone creates “fake news”: political motives, economic incentives, or – often overlooked – satirical aims: fooling people to make a point, ideally making them laugh in the process. Satirical news is nothing new. The Onion, a popular North American satirical gazette, was founded in 1988. However, in recent years, concerns about the proliferation of fake news online have led to worries that satire might be mistaken for “real false information” (talk about a contradictio in terminis). Many policies have been proposed to tackle mis- and disinformation. Satire, however, is not considered an ill-intended form of deception. Thus, the EU Code of Practice on Disinformation explicitly exempts satire and parody from the notion of disinformation (Preamble I.a.). Despite this, many remain concerned that some people might mistakenly take satire at face value. So, how can we protect satire while preventing it from spreading as actual misinformation?
First, media literacy education should include satirical content to help individuals understand “the nature of satire and […] distinguish between satire and factual reporting.” Indeed, nothing will make teenagers appreciate a good joke more than having it mansplained to them by a teacher who was caught googling “what does ‘skibidi’ mean” before class. Besides, the future of satire as an essential part of our media diet looks bleak: cartoonists are becoming an endangered species, The Colbert Report has been canceled for over ten years, and two years ago, The Borowitz Report was dropped amidst budget cuts at The New Yorker. At this rate, the value and nature of satire might only be discussed in History classes, not Modern Language ones.
Second, satirical authors have been called upon to act responsibly by ensuring “their content is not misconceived as factual.” In other words: their jokes need to be sufficiently on the nose. Whether comedians have a societal responsibility to ensure their jokes are understood is debatable, but their own self-interest should be motivation enough. In an era where fewer people are willing to pay for media, imagine wasting money on humor that isn’t even funny!
Last but not least, there’s the recommendation that satirical content should be labeled as such. Google News already does this: any article by The Onion or The Borowitz Report gets a clear “satire” label underneath.
Supporters of labeling claim this “can help social media users navigate a complex and sometimes confusing news environment.” The irony seems lost on them, though, as they place this warning beneath this concrete example of satirical misinformation:
Crisis averted – the label made me rethink my furious email to Winnie the Pooh about his lack of activism in the ‘Save the Bees’ movement. Indeed, parody and satire are usually “self-evidently absurd”. So why do we feel the need to patronizingly point out to others what seems so obvious to us? Communication scientists explain this phenomenon as the “third-person effect”: we assume others are more easily fooled than we are. Labeling assures us that although we have a superior sense of self, others do not, and it is up to us, good samaritans, to guide the clueless masses.
In fact, many humor scholars find labeling satirical content bad practice because it defeats the entire purpose of satire. The whole point is to deceive the audience at first – the recognition of the joke comes later, forcing the reader to think critically about the initial message.
To label or not to label? That seems to be the question. But maybe a compromise can be found: instead of preemptively labeling content as satire, a “Gotcha!”-moment could be added afterward, reminding readers that “satire is satire” after it has successfully fooled them.
Some worry this wouldn’t be enough: many only skim headlines, missing the warning, or see it only after having formed deep-rooted beliefs in the misinformation. If an entire information ecosystem can be shaken by a few misunderstood jokes, one might argue it was too fragile to begin with. Fortunately, various measures are being explored to strengthen our information landscape without targeting satire: supporting local journalism, counter-messaging strategies, adjusting recommendation algorithms, and removing inauthentic asset networks, to name just a few.
Some argue that fears of misinformation are overblown, and the same may be true for satire’s (limited) part in it. Perhaps the real issue is that “incongruity’s promise” isn’t as effective in today’s world, where people have learned to expect the unexpected. After all, if a convicted felon can become President of the United States, why couldn’t a Big Tech CEO be a perverted pedophile with a rodent penis implant? On second thought – maybe these satirical headlines weren’t as far-fetched as we first thought?*
*Gotcha!