Second, if misinformation is part of our new information economy, we must account for collective false memory, the illusory truth effect, and other phenomena that make us susceptible to deceptive sources. It’s much easier and more emotionally satisfying to travel the same neural pathways than it is to form new ones, and research has shown our brains are not wired to take the road less traveled. Since we already struggle to sort through the overabundance of data we encounter on a regular basis, we are more likely to accept repeated claims as truth, especially if they align with our beliefs. After all, it takes significant energy, knowledge and time to fact-check something or investigate questionable ideas. According to a recent Pearson/AP-NORC poll, 95 percent of Americans believe misinformation is a problem, but only 20 percent are very or extremely worried they’ve personally spread it.Īs a first step, we should acknowledge that we are all part of the problem. Worse, we tend to think we’re not doing so. The disturbing truth is, even when we want reliable, high-quality information, we may end up sharing misinformation. But ironically, information overload makes sorting and processing the millions of sources generated from a simple search especially challenging. In my classes, I encourage students to seek multiple forms of information before drawing conclusions about an issue.Īnd certainly in our current networked environment, getting facts seems easy enough. With nearly half of all American adults seeking news on social media, there are ample opportunities for illusory truths to become entrenched collective false memories.Īs a rhetoric and writing studies professor, I’d like to say that I know the solution to collective false memory and illusory truth: research. … We all mistake repetition for accuracy.” In other words, when people hear an idea repeatedly in an echo chamber created by their social media networks, they are even more likely to believe it. Jen Gunter, an OB/GYN and women’s health advocate who addresses misinformation about health and wellness, noted that social media and the 24-hour news cycle represent a “toxic combination that lets misinformation just metastasize. When information gets repeated frequently, people believe it to be true - often regardless of the source’s credibility or evidence to the contrary. In the case of COVID-19, we’ve seen an alarming number of people consuming medications not approved for its treatment, and we continue to see additional spikes in COVID cases in part because of misinformation about vaccine safety.Ĭollective false memory works in tandem with another phenomenon arising from our media-saturated environment: the illusory truth effect. Granted, many popular examples of the Mandela effect seem harmless - remembering “Berenstein” Bears instead of “Berenstain,” or believing Darth Vader said “Luke, I am your father” - but when we consider collective false memory in connection with misinformation and disinformation it raises much graver concerns. This phenomenon has implications stretching far beyond my misguided attempt to get a gag gift for my colleague.

The Mandela effect represents a pop culture take on collective false memory, which occurs when large groups of people misremember the same thing or remember something that never actually happened. The common misperception that the Monopoly man wears a monocle is but one example of the Mandela effect. It turns out I’m not alone in my erroneous belief. But after checking images of Rich Uncle Pennybags, I learned the character in fact does not wear one. When my colleague compared himself to the Monopoly man, I thought it would be hilarious to get him a monocle. During a recent meeting with a colleague, I noticed a black top hat sitting on his bookshelf and jokingly suggested he start wearing it to greet people entering the office.

Does the monopoly man have a monocle