Noise, Not News: How Social Media Hijacks National Crises

Every time India and Pakistan engage in a standoff across borders, military or diplomatic, a parallel confrontation erupts online. This isn’t merely commentary; it’s chaos. The moment tension builds, clarity vanishes. Information collapses into a sea of noise, distortion, and performative patriotism, driven by the very platforms meant to inform us.

Crisis and war communication used to be a discipline. Editors waited for facts. Newsrooms verified before publishing. Strategic silence was not cowardice but protocol. In a high-stakes environment, misinformation was seen as a weapon that could backfire. Today, we’ve traded that prudence for virality.

In the current ecosystem, the first responder isn’t the government or military spokesperson. It’s an influencer with 800k followers. Before a single official word is released, our screens explode with visuals, some genuine, most doctored, and often stripped of context. An unrelated missile test from another country might be repurposed as “breaking footage” from Kashmir. A video from a military drill in Eastern Europe suddenly becomes evidence of Pakistani aggression or Indian retaliation.

It is the gamification of geopolitics. Platforms reward speed over accuracy. Algorithms push engagement, not verification. The louder, angrier, and more visually dramatic a post is, the more likely it is to trend. In such moments, fake news isn’t the outlier; it’s the headline.

This digital wildfire spreads fast because it’s fuelled not just by bots or propaganda networks but also by well-meaning citizens, celebrities, and even seasoned journalists. In a crisis, everyone wants to be seen, to have a say, and to “stand with” someone. But in that urgency, caution is cast aside. A click becomes complicity. A share turns into signal distortion.

And when the line between verified journalism and performative nationalism blurs, credibility suffers. Traditional newsrooms, once bulwarks of verification, have succumbed to the same pressures. In an attention economy, accuracy feels slow. So, news channels amplify the chaos: primetime panels morph into digital battlegrounds, complete with graphics that mimic military command centres, music that mimics urgency, and guests who mimic expertise.

The result is dissonance. And in the national security context, dissonance is dangerous.

Information warfare is no longer a theory; it’s a daily reality. False claims, repurposed content, and coordinated hashtag campaigns are strategic tools. And yet we, the consumers, remain ill-equipped to navigate them. Misinformation is not only spreading faster, but it is also becoming harder to detect.

This is not merely a media problem. It is a societal one.

A digitally literate society must understand that patriotism is not measured in retweets or decibel levels. It is reflected in restraint. In moments of tension, the most constructive act may not be amplification but discretion. Sharing an unverified video, however well-intentioned, can unintentionally support adversarial narratives or compromise operational secrecy.

At the same time, in the binary world, where everyone has to take a side, be with us or against us, we need to stop equating critical thinking with disloyalty. Asking questions, seeking clarity, and waiting for verification are not signs of being “anti-national”. They are signs of being responsible.

What is needed is a new framework that blends national security with media literacy. We must recognise that platforms, by design, reward what’s emotive, not what’s accurate. They are built for virality, not veracity. And without education, regulation, or at least guardrails, they will continue to amplify the loudest, not the wisest.

Before you call for censorship, let me propose a possible solution: capability-building. We need scalable media literacy campaigns embedded in our educational system, journalism training, and even civil service programmes. Crisis literacy must become as integral to public engagement as financial literacy or health awareness.

Likewise, the government must improve the clarity, timeliness, and accessibility of its communication during such events. Let there be strategic briefings, not reactive statements, that drive the narrative. And media organisations must invest in real-time fact-checking infrastructure, not just for optics, but as a core editorial function.

Finally, we, the public, must embrace a new digital etiquette for crisis moments: Pause before posting. Verify before amplifying. Reflect before reacting.

In tense situations, silence is not always a sign of cowardice. It can be the strategy. And sometimes, the most patriotic thing to do is nothing. Don’t post. Don’t share. Just stop, listen, and think.

Because the real war today is not just on the ground, it is for control over perception, narrative, and truth. If we can’t win it, we risk losing far more than credibility. We risk destabilising the very fabric of informed democracy. Narayan, Narayan.

Sanjeev Kotnala is a brand consultant, innovation facilitator, columnist, author and speaker.