When I was 12 or 13, a child of the Cold War era, I carried a weight that most kids my age didn’t even realise existed and many of my friends were unaware of. Growing up in Byron Bay during the late 70s and early 80s, I absorbed every half-heard conversation between my parents’ friends (many of whom were American surfers who had moved to Byron Bay to escape the Vietnam War draft) about nuclear annihilation, environmental collapse, or the simmering tensions between superpowers. Those words, heavy with fear and uncertainty, settled in my then-undiagnosed neurodiverse mind and twisted into vivid, unshakable catastrophes. I’ve always had an exceptional memory, something my good friends know is a big part of me and what has been called partial or selective hyperthymesia or a semi-photographic memory by medical professionals. You see, I remember things in sharp, granular detail. Not just the conversations, but what people were wearing, the exact tone of their voices, and the snide quips exchanged alongside the good moments even the expressions on their faces. Some of the good stuff stays with me, sure, but the bad stuff? It lingers like shadows etched into my mind, amplified and impossible to forget. Even now, I still carry so many of those vivid memories.
It’s a weird kind of superpower this ability to recall the tiniest details from decades ago but it can also be a heavy one that I have learned to manage in a more positive way. I can still picture myself sitting on the back step of our weatherboard house in 1983, watching my dad mow the lawn. I was so scared that World War was imminent, and I did not want him out of my sight. The hum of the mower was the only thing anchoring me to the moment, I still remember exactly what Dad was wearing, what date it was, what I was wearing, the heat and the smell of the breeze, even how the wooden steps felt under my feet. I also remember my mind being flooded with fears of impending doom, convinced that the world was teetering on the brink of collapse. Those looping disasters felt as real as the air I breathed, and with a memory that never lets anything fade, the weight of those fears never truly left me.
Over time, that same memory, once a source of overwhelming anxiety, has become an exceptional asset in my career. I learnt to use it for good in the high-tech and thought-leading cyber security and then cyber safety industries where I’ve spent most of my life now, my ability to recall details, connect dots, and synthesise patterns has proven invaluable. I’ve often been able to retrieve obscure but crucial bits of information from years past details that others have long forgotten but that end up solving problems or driving new innovations. Whether remembering the specifics of a technical challenge from years ago or accurately recalling an offhand comment in a brainstorming session, my memory has become a tool for creativity and precision. What once felt like a burden is now something I rely on daily to thrive in complex, fast-moving environments. It’s a constant reminder that what sets us apart, even when it feels like a challenge, can become our greatest strength.
I often wonder how a young mind like mine, relentlessly absorbing every detail, would have coped in a world with social media. Back then, I was haunted enough by the scraps of conversation I overheard from my parents’ friends, but add to that the constant bombardment of fear and misinformation that kids now face on platforms like Instagram and TikTok, and I’m not sure how I would have navigated it. Would I have been able to sift through the flood of conflicting information? Or would the algorithms have fed my fears, amplifying the voices of doom and silencing reason? Social media has a way of turning anxiety into a feedback loop, and for someone like me, already weighed down by an unrelenting memory, it might have been unbearable.
Fast forward to 2016. A viral hoax known as "Pizzagate" led a man to storm a Washington D.C. pizzeria with a loaded weapon, convinced it was the site of a child trafficking ring. Though the claim was baseless, it illustrates the danger of unchecked misinformation. Beyond dramatic examples, misinformation also inflicts subtler harm. It causes distrust in public health measures, amplifies hate speech, and distorts voters' understanding of critical political issues.
Take climate change, for instance. For years, misinformation campaigns funded by special interest groups cast doubt on the scientific consensus, delaying global action. Similarly, false narratives about election processes have led to declining voter confidence, undermining democracy itself. To combat misinformation, we must equip ourselves and our children with tools to separate fact from fiction. This morning, I scrolled through Instagram and saw so much misinformation about the devastating LA Wildfires that I put my phone down and started to write this piece instead.
The sharing of misinformation can start innocently enough with a forwarded message in a family group chat, a sensational headline on social media, or a cleverly edited video. In my case, a friend had posted a video to her Instagram story. Convincing to the untrained eye, yet to me it was clearly “enhanced” by AI or CGI, and fact-check sites confirmed my thoughts.
This kind of misinformation is far from harmless. It has the power to ruin lives, sow division in communities, erode trust in democracy and exacerbate mental health issues. From climate change denial to conspiracy theories about public spending, bad information derails meaningful conversations and leads to harmful decisions. For parents, educators, and anyone invested in a healthier public discussion, fighting misinformation is not just a responsibility; it’s a skill set we must prioritise teaching kids and yet another reason we should keep young people off “mainstream social media” until they are old enough to critically analyse the information they are bombarded with.
Encouraging healthy scepticism is a crucial first step in teaching kids to navigate misinformation. Help them develop the habit of questioning the source and intent behind any piece of information. Ask questions like, “Who created this? Why would they share it? Can we find this story elsewhere?” “What is the motivation behind it”. By nurturing curiosity, you empower children to develop a natural filter against manipulation.
Teaching lateral reading is another way. When kids encounter a suspicious claim, encourage them to look for corroboration from multiple reliable sources. This technique involves opening new tabs to cross-check information rather than relying solely on one article or post. It’s a practical and straightforward way to verify facts and avoid falling for deceptive content.
Discussing common misinformation tactics can help kids spot red flags early. Help them recognise signs like clickbait headlines, emotionally charged language, and manipulated images. For example, explain how deepfake videos and AI-generated text can appear convincing but often lack credible sourcing. Understanding these tactics equips kids with the tools to think critically about the content they consume.
Create activities where kids must decide whether a claim is true or false. Use real-world examples of hoaxes and work through the steps of fact-checking together. This hands-on approach reinforces their ability to analyse information critically.
Adults play a significant role in setting the tone. Model good behaviour by avoiding the sharing of unverified content yourself. Involve your kids in fact-checking claims you encounter and demonstrate that even adults need to pause and think critically. By doing so, you show them that critical thinking is a lifelong skill and not just something they’re expected to do on their own.
The Best Fact-Checking Resources
Fortunately, credible fact-checking organisations provide a first line of defence against misinformation. These groups use rigorous methods to verify claims, assess evidence, and clarify context.
Here are some of the most reliable platforms that I use:
Snopes (www.snopes.com)
Founded in 1994, Snopes is one of the oldest and most trusted fact-checking sites. Covering urban legends, political claims, and viral social media stories, it provides detailed explanations and sources for every verdict.
PolitiFact (www.politifact.com)
Specialising in political statements, PolitiFact rates claims on a "Truth-O-Meter" scale, from "True" to "Pants on Fire." This tool is invaluable during election seasons when political rhetoric can be especially misleading.
Run by the Annenberg Public Policy Center, FactCheck.org focuses on U.S. politics. It provides in-depth analyses of claims made by politicians, PACs, and advocacy groups. Full Fact (www.fullfact.org)
Based in the UK, Full Fact tackles false information across various topics, from health to immigration. Its accessible explanations make it a great resource for families.
Media Bias/Fact Check (www.mediabiasfactcheck.com)
This site evaluates media outlets for bias and factual reliability, helping readers assess the trustworthiness of their news sources.where informed decisions not viral lies shape our future.
Encourage children and teens to use these tools when encountering what they might suspect is dubious claims online. Teaching them to pause, verify, and reflect before sharing is a foundational skill in the fight against misinformation. This battle is becoming increasingly challenging. With platforms like Meta recently removing third-party fact-checking sites from their ecosystem, the spread of unchecked false information will likely worsen.
Misinformation thrives in environments where trust and communication breakdown. By equipping families with fact-checking skills and critical thinking habits, we foster resilience against harmful narratives. This not only safeguards individual decisions but strengthens society. Communities informed by truth can engage in meaningful conversations, challenge harmful ideologies, and work collectively on issues like climate change, education, and public health.
In the end, fighting misinformation is about reclaiming the power of knowledge. It’s about teaching the next generation to value truth, question deception, and share responsibly. I am now offering a specific keynote, either pre-recorded or via webinar for schools or professional development programs, that is internationally relevant and focuses on tackling misinformation, teaching critical media literacy, and empowering communities to take action.
For bookings or with any questions: click here
Comments