AI Reforms from the Grassroots: Disinformation, Fact-Checking, and Journalism
By any measure, the landscape of disinformation has grown more sophisticated, more coordinated, and far more consequential. Yet every time I speak publicly, whether about AI, regulation, journalism, or public education, I can almost predict which sectors will bristle the most. Educators, creatives, and journalists often respond with the fiercest defensiveness. And while that defensiveness is deeply human, it is also one of the least discussed barriers to genuine policy reform.
Disinformation is not new. Journalists, in particular, have
been exposing paid networks, troll farms, and influence operations for more
than a decade. Their work is foundational: the early reporting of independent
newsrooms, investigative centers, and fact-checking organizations gave civil
society, and eventually policymakers, the vocabulary, evidence, and urgency
needed to even begin grappling with this problem. Outfits like Press One and
PCIJ have mapped the infrastructure of coordinated deceit long before most
institutions acknowledged its scale.
But acknowledging journalistic leadership and pointing out
structural limits are not mutually exclusive. Yet many journalists react as
though they are.
In my recent FB post about amplification vs. speech, a Bhex
Arcega thought to send this scathing rebuttal:
Unpacking the tone of the reaction, it affirms a pattern I frequently encounter. Whenever I observe publicly that fact-checking alone cannot solve the disinformation crisis, some interpret it as an attack on their profession. But insisting on false binaries, either journalism works, or it is useless; either fact-checking saves us, or it is irrelevant, prevents us from seeing the system as it is. Journalism is indispensable. And insufficient. Both statements can be true. Both are true.
The louder the defensiveness, the harder it becomes to talk
about the missing pieces: platform governance, funding transparency,
algorithmic accountability, community resilience, and regulatory teeth. We
cannot build effective policy reforms while navigating emotional minefields
laid by people who are, understandably, exhausted and protective of their
craft. But that emotional reality should not determine the limits of the conversation.
There is a deeper issue behind this: the assumption that
reforms must originate in the halls of Congress. In reality, meaningful change
often begins with the people most affected by the problem. When you work in
both spaces, legislative advocacy on one hand and grassroots engagement on the
other, you quickly learn how hard it is to shift modes.
I spend part of my time discussing AI governance with
policymakers who need frameworks, definitions, regulatory scope, and
enforcement mechanisms. Minutes later, I may find myself talking to farmers,
teachers, or community organizers who do not care about the architecture of a
model, they care about the harms they experience daily. Real-world
misinformation is not an abstraction for them. It shapes their voting
decisions, their livelihoods, their sense of security. Their children are
targeted. Their families are manipulated. The distance between a Senate
committee hearing and a barangay hall community dialogue is not measured in
kilometers but in emotional bandwidth. Switching between those worlds is
disorienting, humbling, and necessary.
Grassroots work is messy. It refuses to fit into tidy
legislative language. But it is precisely where AI governance intersects with
lived reality, and where defensiveness becomes most counterproductive. When
journalists or educators treat any critique of fact-checking as a personal
affront, they inadvertently perpetuate a status quo in which technocrats and
lawmakers become the sole architects of reform. And that is a disaster waiting
to happen. Because disinformation is not a purely technological problem, nor a
purely legal one, it is a social phenomenon that mutates within communities
long before legislators can catch up to it.
This is why I have argued, repeatedly, that fact-checking
matters but is not enough. Fact-checking corrects individual claims; policy
reform targets the amplification systems that make lies profitable.
Fact-checking addresses content; policy addresses incentives. Fact-checking
answers the “what”; policy tackles the “why.”
Those who insist that fact-checking is the only or primary
weapon misunderstand the scale of the battlefield. Meanwhile, those who dismiss
fact-checking entirely fall into the same trap of binary thinking. We cannot
combat systemic, monetized disinformation with a single tactical approach. We
need a layered strategy:
- Journalistic investigation to expose networks.
- AI-powered analysis to map the flow of money, influence, and amplification.
- Legislative and regulatory reforms to penalize coordinated manipulation.
- Community engagement to build resilience where disinformation does the most damage.
This is not an either-or equation. It is a whole-of-society
fight.
AI is reshaping the terrain even further. Disinformation is
no longer just organized; it is scalable. It is no longer just funded; it is
automated. If fact-checkers once had difficulty keeping up with human trolls,
imagine the impossibility of countering algorithmically generated propaganda
without systemic solutions. The only viable path forward is policy reform
grounded in community experience and informed by technological insight.
But "journalists know that" as Arcega notes.
Again, the (over) self-reflectiveness eventually becomes an impediment here.
The truth: journalists are not the only party to this conversation. Policy
makers, law enforcement, the public at large, need to weigh in.
The irony is that the groups most threatened by
disinformation, journalists, educators, artists, are also the groups who could
be the most powerful allies in shaping these reforms. But that requires setting
aside defensiveness long enough to recognize that critiques of structure are
not attacks on individuals.
In the fight against disinformation, everyone has a role.
But no one is the hero. And the sooner we abandon the comfort of binary
thinking, the sooner we can build a strategy that matches the complexity of the
threat.
About Me:
Dominic “Doc” Ligot is
one of the leading voices in AI in the Philippines. Doc has been extensively
cited in local and global media outlets including The Economist, South China
Morning Post, Washington Post, and Agence France Presse. His award-winning work
has been recognized and published by prestigious organizations such as NASA,
Data.org, Digital Public Goods Alliance, the Group on Earth Observations (GEO),
the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), the World Health Organization
(WHO), and UNICEF.
If you need guidance
or training in maximizing AI for your career or business, reach out to Doc via https://docligot.com.
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