I fell for it.

I still cringe a little thinking about a viral subway video I believed years ago. It showed a woman confronting men for “manspreading,” and I remember feeling certain it captured something real and troubling about our culture. I shared it. I talked about it. I thought, is it really wrong to sit that way? Only later did I learn the video was staged and spread by outlets linked to Russia, including “In The Now”, specifically to provoke outrage and division. What unsettled me most wasn’t that I was fooled, but how easily I was fooled—how quickly emotion replaced curiosity, and how confident I felt before I’d actually checked anything. It was a humbling reminder that good intentions, strong feelings, and even moral language don’t protect us from misinformation, and that slowing down is sometimes the most honest response we can offer.

Russia has spent years engaging in what analysts and intelligence agencies call information or hybrid warfare—a strategy aimed not at persuading Americans to adopt a specific viewpoint, but at amplifying division, confusion, and distrust inside democratic societies. Instead of tanks or troops, this approach uses viral videos, fake or staged content, and emotionally charged stories that exploit existing cultural tensions, knowing that people will spread them organically through social media and conversation. The goal isn’t to make Americans pro-Russia; it’s to make them less trusting of one another, less confident in shared institutions, and more reactive than thoughtful. By encouraging outrage and suspicion across many issues at once, Russia weakens social cohesion in the U.S. and other countries without ever having to confront them directly.

Could it be that their tactics worked? Certainly not. I’m sure you’re not as gullible as me. I’m sure you haven’t been fooled by any AI videos lately – like a Pentagon explosion or a fake volcanic eruption or something. Are we all being divisive because we were trained to be that way by bad actors? No, we’re smarter that that.

I will admit, when I saw the video I thought, “Are you serious?” Turns out – no. But, a lot of people did believe it. In fact, there are probably still people out there who do. What makes me cringe isn’t just that I believed it – it’s that I talked with people about it.

So, let’s assume we’re all smart enough to detect such shenanigans. At least in viral video format. But what about when it comes from the mouth of someone we know and trust.

Most misinformation doesn’t come from people trying to deceive us. It comes from people we trust—friends, family members, coworkers—who are repeating something they heard somewhere else. A podcast clip. A news segment. A social post that sounded confident, urgent, and emotionally charged. By the time it reaches us, it feels less like information and more like concern.

That’s what makes it hard to challenge. Questioning the story can feel like questioning the person, and most of us don’t want to do that. Especially when the person sharing it sounds sincere, worried, or faithful. So we nod, absorb it, and pass it along, often without realizing that we’ve become part of the transmission problem. This is how misinformation actually spreads—not through villains, but through relationships.

Why Repetition Makes False Stories Feel True

One of the reasons these stories stick is that they feel right. They confirm existing fears. They offer a clear villain. They simplify complex systems into something emotionally manageable. And when something aligns with our anxiety or frustration, our brains tend to lower the bar for verification. Repetition does the rest. The more we hear something, the truer it starts to feel, even if it isn’t.

It’s like that lie you try to not believe about yourself. The lie that strong people don’t need help. And you know it’s not true, but you can’t shake it. Because you’ve heard it a lot. You’ve told it to yourself many times. It was confirmed by others along the way. So you believe it. No matter how untrue it is.

Christian Language vs. Christian Morals

Where this becomes especially complicated for Christians is that many of these stories are wrapped in religious language. They sound moral. They sound protective. They use words like “values,” “truth,” and “standing firm.” And because they sound faithful, we assume they must be faithful. And many of them even quote verses right out of the Bible – usually out of context – but we recognize them.

But here’s an important distinction we don’t talk about enough: Christian language is not the same thing as Christian morality.

It’s entirely possible for someone to use Christian vocabulary while making judgment calls that don’t reflect Christian ethics. Saying the right words doesn’t automatically produce the right fruit. Scripture consistently measures faithfulness not by how religious something sounds, but by what it produces—love, patience, humility, care for the vulnerable, and a commitment to truth.

Just because our favorite podcasts or news anchor is good at using Scripture to defend their argument, doesn’t mean their argument is Biblical. And it doesn’t mean they believe what the Bible is teaching on that subject. What it means is, they want YOU to believe that they believe. Because if you believe they believe, then you will trust what they say.

Sincerity Is Not the Same as Accuracy

This doesn’t mean people are being dishonest or manipulative. Most aren’t. At least the real people in our lives. It means sincerity and accuracy are not the same thing. A person can be deeply concerned, genuinely faithful, and still wrong about the facts. And when fear is involved, even well-meaning people can pass along claims without checking whether they’re specific, local, or verifiable.

Being Christian doesn’t make us immune to manipulation. In fact, there are studies that show that Christians are more likely to fall for conspiracy theories.

What researchers found is this:

  • High-trust communities (churches, political groups, tight social networks) are more likely to accept information shared by insiders without checking it.
  • Moral framing (“this is about good vs evil,” “protecting values,” “they’re coming for us”) increases belief, even when claims are weak.
  • Conspiracy thinking rises during times of anxiety, loss of control, or cultural threat, which many Christians have felt in recent years.
  • https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/pops.12822

A Baylor University study found that highly religious Americans were more likely, on average, to endorse contemporary falsehoods. (https://news.web.baylor.edu/news/story/2021/religiosity-and-conspiratorial-beliefs-linked-baylor-religion-survey-findings)

We are a trusting group. We are also used to believing things that aren’t seen. When it comes to our faith, this is a good thing. When it comes to misinformation, it’s a problem.

Discernment Is Not Distrust

Christian discernment isn’t about distrusting everyone. It’s about slowing down before we absorb or repeat claims that make us angry or afraid. Strong emotional reactions are often a signal that we should pause, not react. Wisdom doesn’t rush. It asks better questions.

Questions like:

  • Who benefits if I believe this?
  • Is this claim specific enough to verify, or vague enough to spread?
  • Does believing this produce clarity and care, or suspicion and fear?

None of those questions requires us to confront or correct the person who shared the story. They’re internal questions. They’re about what we do with the information once it reaches us.

Why This Matters for Our Schools and Community

This matters because second-hand misinformation doesn’t stay abstract. It shapes how we talk about teachers, administrators, and schools. It affects trust. It influences votes. And it often lands hardest on people who are already stretched thin—families, students, and staff who didn’t create the narratives being placed on them.

And, what really bothers me, is that we’re believing and passing on information from voices that don’t have a stake in the community. Many stories are passed on from national podcasts/shows. Even the ones that have local ties don’t usually have local stakes. They might live near the school, but they don’t have kids in the school or help in the schools. Their claims are based on hearsay – which is Matlock talk for gossip. Another word would be slander. And as addictive as gossip can be, it tends to only benefit the people who aren’t involved while making victims of the people they’re talking about.

Refusing to pass along unverified claims isn’t naïve. It’s an act of neighbor-love. It protects relationships while still honoring truth. It allows us to say, “I’m not sure about that,” without saying, “You’re wrong.” And, here’s the thing, it doesn’t make you a bad neighbor or friend to disagree with them on an issue. You are allowed to weigh the facts and make an informed decision – even if your information SEEMS to conflict with your friends’.

Slowing Down Is a Faithful Choice

Christian faith has always required discernment, especially in noisy environments. Being careful about what we believe and repeat isn’t a lack of conviction. It’s a form of faithfulness. And in a moment when fear travels faster than facts, slowing down may be one of the most countercultural—and loving—things we can do.

Before we argue about solutions, budgets, or systems, it helps to make sure we’re not building our conclusions on stories that only sound right. Truth matters. So does how we carry it.

Facts matter because they are organized. And our faith is one of order and structure, not chaos. There are forces in the world (be they Russian, Political, or supernatural) that thrive on chaos. Chaos favors the loud while minimizing the wise.

The question, is are we wise?