Journalism beyond likes and shares

By Herman M. Lagon

One of the most dangerous sentences in our time sounds harmless enough: “I saw it on social media.” It is usually said with confidence, almost as if seeing were the same as verifying. A screenshot becomes evidence. A viral reel becomes history. A trending hashtag becomes public opinion. Before long, a teacher enters the classroom spending the first ten minutes correcting what students confidently learned the night before—not from a textbook, not from a reputable news organization, but from a thirty-second video that ended with dramatic music and no source at all. That small classroom moment says more about the country’s information problem than any survey ever could.

It is easy to applaud or reject Vice President Sara Duterte’s remarks depending on one’s politics. Harder—but more worthwhile—is asking whether they are fair. The NUJP saw it differently. It said broad judgments fail to recognize the many Filipino journalists who continue to do difficult work every day—often under pressure—and whose reporting has earned respect here and abroad.

Of course, journalism is not above criticism. Reporters make mistakes. Columnists can misread situations. Editors make difficult calls. News organizations occasionally get things wrong. Good news organizations correct their mistakes because trust has to be earned. Online, misleading posts are often quietly deleted or forgotten, while the confusion remains.

The Vice President also reflects a sentiment a few Filipinos share. Trust in the media has slipped over the years, partly because of political divisions and partly because the news business itself has changed. Some people see bias. Others see sensationalism. Those concerns deserve a fair hearing. Journalism should never expect trust simply because it calls itself journalism.

But it is unreasonable to judge a whole profession by its worst moments, especially from someone whose own public record remains the subject of intense scrutiny.

Every day thousands of journalists do the hard work of fact checking, source verification, and story telling that some powerful people would rather keep out of the public eye.

Teachers understand this discipline well. Every test they prepare requires verification. Good teaching depends on good sources. Being online does not give every source the same weight. Most teachers would agree with that.

Journalists know it, too. Social media has made it easier for people to share what they witness. During calamities, the first photos often come from ordinary citizens. That matters. But journalism begins where a viral post ends. It asks: Who took the video? What happened before and after? Do other witnesses confirm it? Does the evidence support the claim?

Researchers have found that social media favors clicks over credibility. Outrage often travels farther than facts. The NUJP says that is why relying on social media alone is risky. The Movement for Media Safety Philippines (MMSP) believes the deeper problem lies in algorithms, trolls, misinformation, and organized disinformation, not simply individual users.

Perhaps this debate is not really about choosing between journalism and social media. It is about whether we still believe truth requires patience. Verification is slow and expensive. Propaganda is quick and cheap. Responsible reporting often arrives after a rumor has already gone viral because facts take time to establish. That delay can be frustrating in an age that expects instant answers, yet it remains one of democracy’s quiet strengths. The question is not which platform speaks the loudest. It is which one still pauses to ask, “How do we know this is true?” That question may never trend, but societies that stop asking it rarely like the answers they eventually receive.

The challenge today is that verification has become less appealing than validation. People increasingly prefer information that confirms what they already believe. Many families have seen this during election season. Someone forwards a sensational Messenger post. Another asks where it came from. The answer is often, “Marami nang nag-share niyan.” Suddenly, popularity becomes proof. Yet truth has never been determined by the number of likes or shares it receives. The Earth did not become round because a post went viral. It was already round long before anyone could click “Share.”

Students have never had easier access to information, yet many still struggle to know what deserves their trust. Teachers see it daily. That is why the most important lesson today may not be information itself, but discernment—a lesson journalism also tries to teach.

The debate over the proposed anti-disinformation bills deserves more than political sound bites. Disinformation is real. It has distorted elections, enabled scams, divided communities, and harmed public trust. The challenge is finding the right response. The MMSP says that increased government control over speech is not enough if the structures that fuel deception are not tackled. But it requires greater transparency, increased media literacy and support for independent journalism.

History demonstrates democracies rarely fall overnight. They get weaker when individuals do not ask questions or only listen to sources they already agree with. Healthy skepticism involves questioning everything, even ourselves.

We should also remember this. Behind each news item is typically a reporter working long hours with minimal resources and no assurance of safety. Community journalists, in particular, write about people they may see later at the grocery, the church or the barangay hall. That reality requires being careful, as every error has a face. The NUJP reminds us that many local journalists maintain this work notwithstanding intimidation, even low pay.

That does not excuse mistakes. Journalists should be corrected when necessary. Still, holding them accountable is very different from writing off journalism altogether. One helps them improve. The other only weakens public trust without offering a better alternative.

For many educators, this conversation extends well beyond politics. When schools teach students to verify information instead of simply consuming it, they do more than prepare them for exams. They prepare them for citizenship. In today’s world, discernment may be the most practical lesson of all.

One lesson never grows old: understand the facts before making judgments. That is where wisdom begins. It is not a religious teaching. It is simply sound intellectual practice. In an era that rewards certainty over curiosity, those quiet habits matter more than ever.

Perhaps that is where Sara Duterte’s argument ultimately falls short. Journalism deserves criticism whenever it fails. It should never be beyond scrutiny. But dismissing an entire profession while presenting social media as a better source of truth ignores the one thing that separates reporting from rumor: verification. Journalism is not valuable because it is always right. It is valuable because it has standards that require correction when it is wrong. Social media has no such obligation.

The real choice, then, is not between mainstream media and social media. It is between verification and virality. As long as enough people still pause to question, verify, and seek the truth before pressing “Share,” democracy still has a fighting chance.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a “student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.