IT WAS a typical morning, scrolling through updates, easing into the day, when a post stopped me cold. The announcement seemed official, bearing the name of a page titled “Jesuits (Society of Jesus),” and it broke the kind of news that strikes deep for someone who holds faith close: “With profound sorrow, we announce the passing of our beloved Holy Father, Jorge Mario Bergoglio…”
According to the post, Pope Francis had taken his last breath at the Agostino Gemelli University Hospital in Rome.
The details were convincing — exact time of death, the usual solemn phrasing, and even gratitude for his life’s service.
Like many who deeply admire the first and only Jesuit Pope, I felt an overwhelming wave of grief and respect. Before sharing it, I did what any responsible educator and journalist would do: I checked two other posts from similarly reputable-looking accounts to confirm the news. Both echoed the same somber announcement. Three sources seemed enough to verify what appeared to be an unavoidable truth.
And yet, it was a lie.
The Pontiff was still alive, albeit in critical condition. Despite seeming official, the posts were a calculated hoax that preyed on our emotional vulnerability.
What followed was deep regret — not just for falling for the lie but for unintentionally spreading it to those who trusted my judgment.
It is humbling, even humiliating, for someone like me — an educator of 23 years and an active journalist — to fall into the trap of fake news.
According to a Social Weather Stations (SWS) survey from 2021, 51% of Filipinos admit finding it difficult to detect fake news, especially on social media platforms. I had always prided myself on being part of the other 49%. Apparently, even skepticism can slip when emotions and intuitions run high.
I remember messaging a friend, a former co-teacher from Ateneo de Iloilo, now studying law at UP Diliman, for clarity. His reaction mirrored my own shock: “Why would anyone spread fake news about something this sacred?”
The answer was unsettlingly simple — attention. Shares, comments, and reactions drive engagement, and engagement, in turn, can be monetized. There is money to be made in manipulating people’s emotions, even if it means falsely announcing the death of one of the most beloved spiritual leaders in the world.
The most painful realization was that the pages and accounts I cross-checked were all victims, too, caught in the same web of misinformation. This was not a case of lazy verification but rather a coordinated effort designed to make even the most cautious readers believe. The reference page’s use of familiar branding, its formal tone, and the emotionally charged language made the deception even more effective. It was a lesson in how easily even critical thinking can be clouded by personal reverence and emotional vulnerability. (To be con tinued)/PN
