The internet, if we’re being honest, is a carnival of half-truths, motivated reasoning, and people who think their aunt’s Facebook post counts as peer review. So when a website claims it fact-checks information, you’d better hope they’re doing more than just Googling stuff and calling it journalism.
Take Snopes, which started in 1994—back when the web was basically digital Wild West—debunking urban legends about alligators in sewers and kidney thieves in hotel bathtubs. Now it employs actual humans who read through scientific papers, interview experts, and track down original sources. Not sexy work. Definitely not viral. But turns out, boring rigor is what separates fact-checking from fan fiction.
When Algorithms Think They’re Smarter Than Context (Spoiler: They’re Not)
Here’s the thing about automated fact-checking: it’s seductive. Feed an AI system enough data, teach it to cross-reference claims against databases, and suddenly you’ve got a system that can process thousands of statements per second. FactCheck.org uses a combination of human researchers and computational tools to verify political claims, and they’ve caught everyone from presidents to pundits in demonstrable falsehoods. In 2020 alone, they published over 1,200 fact-checks during the election cycle.
But algorithms stumble when context matters—which is always.
A statement like “COVID vaccines change your DNA” is straightforwardly false. The mRNA never enters the cell nucleus where DNA lives, as confirmed by multiple peer-reviewed studies in Nature Medicine and The Lancet. Easy enough for a computer to flag. But what about “violent crime is rising”? Depends on the timeframe (down since the 1990s, up in certain years), the location (varies wildly by city), and what counts as “violent” (definitions differ across jurisdictions). Suddenly your algorithm is drowning in nuance, and nuance requires judgment calls that machines can’t make—at least not yet.
The Associated Press runs a dedicated fact-checking operation that published roughly 4,000 fact-checks in 2022. Their process involves multiple editors reviewing each claim, contacting original sources, and examining raw data rather than relying on secondary reporting. It’s methodical to the point of tedium, which is exactly why it works.
The Humans Behind the Curtain Who Actually Read the Fine Print
Wait—maybe the real story isn’t the technology at all. Maybe it’s the unsung researchers who spend hours tracking down decades-old congressional testimony or deciphering statistical methodologies that would make most people weep.
PolitiFact employs journalists with subject-matter expertise who rate claims on their Truth-O-Meter (a name that sounds silly but represents genuine investigative work). When they rated a claim about healthcare costs, they didn’t just check one source—they examined CMS data, interviewed health economists, and reviewed acturial reports. The final fact-check cited 17 separate sources. That’s not automation; that’s old-fashioned shoe-leather reporting applied to the digital age.
Full Fact in the UK has developed automated tools that flag suspicious claims in real-time during televised debates, but humans still make the final call. Because context isn’t just important—it’s everything. A statement can be technically accurate but wildly misleading depending on what’s left out.
The International Fact-Checking Network, founded in 2015 by the Poynter Institute, has certified over 100 organizations worldwide that meet rigorous standards: transparency about sources, transparency about funding, transparency about methodology. They’re not perfect—no human system is—but they’ve created accountability structures that didn’t exist a decade ago.
And here’s the kicker: good fact-checking websites admit mistakes. When Snopes gets something wrong (rare but it happens), they publish corrections prominently. When PolitiFact misjudges a claim’s rating, they revise it with explanations. That’s not weakness—that’s intellectual honesty, which is shockingly radical in an era where doubling down on errors has become standard practice.
The Guardian’s Reality Check team doesn’t just verify claims; they explain the underlying evidence in accessible language, walking readers through how they reached their conclusions. It’s fact-checking as pedagogy, teaching people not just what’s true but how to evaluate truth claims themselves.
So how does a website fact-check informaton? With humans who care about accuracy more than clicks, with transparent methodologies that can withstand scrutiny, and with the understanding that truth isn’t always simple but it’s always worth pursuing. The internet may be a carnival, but at least some people are checking whether the rides are safe before you get on.
