Over the years, the Scope team has written hundreds of news articles. You trust us, we hope, to craft stories for you that are accurate and true. 

We take your trust very seriously. Our articles are the results of weeks and sometimes months of research.

But how would you feel if you found out that much of what you read in Scope was inaccurate, wildly exaggerated, or outright lies? You would probably be outraged. 

Scope editors would never intentionally publish a fake or misleading story, but right now, that kind of content is increasingly common on social media. Your feed is full of posts designed to lure you into clicking and sharing, often by using shocking headlines (“Man Survives 10 Lightning Strikes!”) or appealing to strong emotions, like fear (“Is Your Toothbrush Poisoning You?!”). 

And it works.

In fact, experts warn that America is facing a growing information crisis. More and more people are getting most of their news from social media sites like TikTok and YouTube. At the same time, “it’s never been more difficult to figure out what’s real and what’s credible online,” says Hannah Covington of the News Literacy Project, an organization devoted to training students to think critically about the news.

 That’s a serious problem because what you consume online shapes how you see the world. It influences the products you buy, the causes you support, and the way you understand major events. When false or misleading information spreads, it can distort reality—for you and millions of others.  

Every day, you scroll past posts, videos, and headlines all claiming to be true. Many of them are. But some of them aren’t. So how do you know who and what to trust?

Over the years, the Scope team has written hundreds of news articles. We hope you trust us to write stories that are accurate and true. We take your trust seriously. Our articles are the results of weeks and sometimes months of research.

But what if you found out that what you read in Scope was inaccurate, wildly exaggerated, or outright lies? How would you feel? You would probably be outraged.

Scope editors would never intentionally publish a fake or misleading story. But that kind of content is common on social media. Your feed is full of posts designed to get you to click and share. They use shocking headlines, such as “Man Survives 10 Lightning Strikes!” Or they appeal to strong emotions, like fear, such as “Is Your Toothbrush Poisoning You?!” 

And it works.

Experts warn that America is facing an information crisis. More and more people are getting most of their news from social media sites like TikTok and YouTube. And “it’s never been more difficult to figure out what’s real and what’s credible online,” says Hannah Covington. She’s with the News Literacy Project. It trains students to think critically about the news.

Not being able to figure out what’s real online is a serious problem. That’s because what you consume online shapes how you see the world. It influences the products you buy, the causes you support, and the way you understand major events. When false or misleading information spreads, it can distort reality—for you and millions of others.

Every day, you scroll past posts, videos, and headlines all claiming to be true. Many of them are. But some of them aren’t. So how do you know who and what to trust?

When your parents and grandparents were your age, most people got their information from reputable newspapers like The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal and from nightly news broadcasts by major TV networks. Media companies employed professional journalists who did thorough research and composed fact-based articles about important events and issues. But these days, you don’t need to be a long-established news source to get a big audience. All you need is a smartphone, a Wi-Fi connection, and a social media account. 

Consider Dylan Page, who calls himself the “News Daddy” and recaps current events in clips with titles like “USA & Europe Break Up?!” His TikTok account has 19.6 million followers—nearly as many as The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and CNN combined. As Page’s success shows, the ways people get information are changing. 

According to a 2025 report from Reuters and the University of Oxford, the majority of Americans now get their news mainly from social media. It’s hardly surprising—platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook offer an easy way to stay up-to-date. But the information they provide can be unreliable. For example, in a 2022 study, fact-checking experts found that 20 percent of TikTok’s suggested videos about major news events contained misinformation—incorrect or misleading information. (When false information is spread on purpose to confuse or deceive people, it’s called disinformation.) 

And that was before the rise of generative AI (artificial intelligence). A wave of powerful, simple-to-use tools such as ChatGPT, Midjourney, and DALL-E have made it possible for just about anyone to manipulate photos and videos—or generate realistic-looking fakes—using AI. Today people’s feeds are full of “breaking news” reports of events that never took place: images of an earthquake devastating the Pacific Northwest or footage of a world leader announcing their country has been attacked. 

People engage with these legitimate-seeming posts—clicking, commenting, reposting. The content gets viewed and shared hundreds of thousands of times.

That means big bucks for the people who created them.

When your parents and grandparents were your age, most people got their information from reputable sources. They read newspapers like The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. They watched nightly news broadcasts by major TV networks. Media companies employed professional journalists. They did thorough research. They composed fact-based articles. The articles were about important events and issues. But these days, you don’t need to be a long-established news source to get a big audience. You just need a smartphone, a Wi-Fi connection, and a social media account.

Consider Dylan Page. He calls himself the “News Daddy.” He recaps current events in short clips. They have titles like “USA & Europe Break Up?!” His TikTok account has 19.6 million followers. That’s nearly as many as The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and CNN combined. This shows that the way people get information is changing.

Now, most Americans get their news mainly from social media. That’s according to a 2025 report from Reuters and the University of Oxford. It’s hardly surprising. Platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook offer an easy way to stay up-to-date. But the information they provide can be unreliable. In a 2022 study, fact-checking experts found that 20 percent of TikTok’s suggested videos about major news events contained misinformation.That’s incorrect or misleading information. (Sometimes false information is spread on purpose to confuse or deceive people. That’s called disinformation.)

And that study was done before the rise of generative AI (artificial intelligence). Now, simple-to-use tools such as ChatGPT, Midjourney, and DALL-E make it possible for just about anyone to use AI to manipulate photos and videos. They can also make realistic-looking fakes. Today people’s feeds are full of “breaking news” about events that never took place. It could be images of an earthquake in the Pacific Northwest. Or it could show a world leader announcing their country has been attacked.

People think the posts are legitimate. They click, comment, and repost. The content gets viewed and shared hundreds of thousands of times.

That means big bucks for the people who created them.

When you click on or share a post or video on social media, the person or company that published it can make money. That’s why content often contains shocking or outrageous claims. Creators know that sparking strong emotions—such as fear or anger—makes users more likely to click and share. The more people who do, the more money the creator earns.

In other words, there’s a strong incentive for dishonest companies and creators to post exaggerated (or downright false) news reports. That’s a key reason there is so much unreliable information out there. 

To make matters worse, social media platforms are designed to reward engagement, boosting posts that get a lot of clicks, shares, and comments. That means when sensationalized news reports are posted on social media, they often get promoted more than cautious, truthful reporting. This can lead to a dangerous cycle.

What we see in our feeds shapes our view of the world. If our minds are filled with misinformation, our sense of reality can become skewed.

When you click on or share a post or video on social media, the person or company that published it can make money. That’s why content often contains shocking or outrageous claims. Creators know that strong emotions—such as fear or anger—make users more likely to click and share. The more people who do, the more money the creator earns.

So there’s a strong incentive for dishonest companies and creators to post exaggerated (or false) news reports. That’s a key reason there is so much unreliable information out there.

To make matters worse, social media platforms are designed to reward engagement. They boost posts that get a lot of clicks, shares, and comments. So sensationalized news reports on social media are often promoted more than truthful reporting. This can lead to a dangerous cycle.

What we see in our feeds shapes our view of the world. If our minds are filled with misinformation, our sense of reality can become skewed

In a small village lived a boy named Yankel who loved to tell stories. Not his own stories, mind you. Yankel found other people’s stories more interesting. And because his father owned the village store, and the store was where everyone gathered to trade news, Yankel overheard many stories, which he took pride in repeating.

One day in his father’s store, Yankel heard the baker Reb Wulff laughing. “Can you believe what I did? I lost my glasses!” And so Reb Wulff let out a thunderous whoop. “I put salt in the rugelach, not sugar! Salt! Like stones those rugelach would have tasted!”

Everyone erupted in laughter. 

Yankel slipped out to tell his friends, so he never heard Reb Wulff tell how his wife discovered his mistake and made him throw away the dough. “Even the chickens would not eat it,” Reb Wulff had said.

At the schoolyard, Yankel told his friends his latest story. “Reb Wulff put salt in the rugelach. Not sugar! Salt! Imagine that!” Yankel said. “Those rugelach tasted like stones!”

“Yech!” said Yankel’s friends. “We’ll never eat anything from Reb Wulff’s bakery again!”

And then Yankel’s friends ran off to repeat the story.

In a small village lived a boy named Yankel. He loved to tell stories. Not his own stories, mind you. Yankel found other people’s stories more interesting. His father owned the village store. Everyone gathered there to trade news. Yankel overheard many stories. He took pride in repeating them.

One day in his father’s store, Yankel heard the baker Reb Wulff laughing. “Can you believe what I did? I lost my glasses!” Then Reb Wulff laughed. “I put salt in the rugelach, not sugar! Salt! Like stones those rugelach
 would have tasted!”

Everyone laughed.

Yankel slipped out to tell his friends. So he never heard Reb Wulff tell how his wife discovered his mistake and made him throw away the dough. “Even the chickens would not eat it,” Reb Wulff had said.

At the schoolyard, Yankel told his friends his latest story. “Reb Wulff put salt in the rugelach. Not sugar! Salt! Imagine that!” Yankel said. “Those rugelach tasted like stones!”

“Yech!” said Yankel’s friends. “We’ll never eat anything from Reb Wulff’s bakery again!”

And then Yankel’s friends ran off to repeat the story.

Later that day, as Yankel hurried back to his father’s store, he did not notice that the bakery was empty—except for the rabbi, who was biting into rugelach so sweet and tender it melted in his mouth.

 “Yankel!” the rabbi called. “I have a job for you. Come with me.”

Yankel followed the rabbi to his house. There, the rabbi presented a brown sack to Yankel.

Yankel peered inside. “This sack is full of feathers.” 

“I want you to put one feather on every doorstep in the village,” the rabbi said.

“On every doorstep? Why?”

“You will see soon enough.”

Yankel laid a feather on the doorstep of his father’s store. He dropped the feather, not bothering to see where it landed. He did the same thing at the houses of Levi the tailor, Mendel the butcher, and Reb Wulff the baker. Yankel did not feel the gust of wind that sent a cloud of feathers swirling behind him. He kept dropping feathers until he’d gone to every house in the village.

As Yankel hurried back to his father’s store, he did not notice that the bakery was empty—except for the rabbi, who was biting into rugelach so sweet and tender it melted in his mouth.

“Yankel!” the rabbi called. “I have a job for you. Come with me.”

Yankel followed the rabbi to his house. There, the rabbi gave a brown sack to Yankel.

Yankel peered inside. “This sack is full of feathers.”

“I want you to put one feather on every doorstep in the village,” the rabbi said.

“On every doorstep? Why?”

“You will see soon enough.”

Yankel put a feather on the doorstep of his father’s store. He dropped the feather, not bothering to see where it landed. He did the same thing at the houses of Levi the tailor, Mendel the butcher, and Reb Wulff the baker. Yankel did not feel the gust of wind that sent a cloud of feathers swirling behind him. He kept dropping feathers until he’d gone to every house in the village.

As he made his way home, Yankel knew what stories he would tell his schoolmates the next day. 

First, the story of Reb Wulff the baker, whose wife made him throw out the salty dough and who then baked the sweetest rugelach Yankel had ever tasted. Then he would tell his own story, the story of a boy who went looking for feathers that blew away in the wind.

As he made his way home, Yankel knew what stories he would tell his schoolmates the next day.

First, the story of Reb Wulff the baker, whose wife made him throw out the salty dough and who then baked the sweetest rugelach Yankel had ever tasted. Then he would tell his own story, the story of a boy who went looking for feathers that blew away in the wind.