An anonymous Labour MP recently told the Guardian that they had spent a lot of time speaking to local farmers who incorrectly believed the new tax changes would affect their farms, when they were in fact exempt. The culprit of such “confusion”? Social media. “In part this is because we barely have any good local newspapers any more,” the MP said. “In the past, even if you disagreed on policy, there was a shared idea of what the basic facts were. That doesn’t exist now.”
A politician blaming social media for members of the public misunderstanding a policy announcement isn’t only patronising toward voters, it’s a stretch of the imagination. Social media isn’t the enemy here; it’s the party’s failure to harness it.
Labour made the critical mistake of not pre-empting how the policy would be met by opponents and farmers. It is designed to close a loophole that would allow the wealthy to buy farms and evade inheritance tax. Real farmers, instead, got caught in the crossfire as numbers were hurled between government and the opposition, resulting in cash-poor, hard-working families feeling as if they were being targeted.
The assurance from the environment secretary, Steve Reed, that only 500 farms would be affected in a single year lacked persuasive energy after thousands of farmers had already taken to the streets – and the idea that 70,000 farms would be affected across a 30-year period had already been disseminated. The National Farmers’ Union argued that 75% of commercial family farms would be affected, which seemed to contradict Rachel Reeves’s assertion that 75% would be unaffected. Both of these cannot be true – and Labour has not provided compelling enough evidence to debunk these criticisms. Poor explanations of policy can lead to an information vacuum, in which there is no established consensus and false claims can flourish.
We know that heightened emotions can make us more vulnerable to inaccurate information. Being told that there’s nothing to worry about when you have spent years dealing with a global pandemic, inflation, climate breakdown and cuts in subsidies is condescending. Labour should know that if it doesn’t emotionally engage a voter base, someone else with a viral TikTok video will. Saying “you’re wrong about the facts” might be true, but it doesn’t tell the person trying to wade through the information chaos “I hear you”.
Labour seemingly failed to communicate its policy in a way that would emotionally engage with audiences, or even reach them online. On 19 November, the party put out an Insta-friendly statement on all of its social media channels with “the truth about Labour’s budget and farmers”. Apart from it coming too late, it was too wordy, too faceless and, therefore, hollow. On Instagram, it got 3,000 fewer likes than Nigel Farage donning a flat cap and joining the protest for Reform UK’s account, which posted seven times that day. Is it really social media’s fault that Labour’s messaging isn’t landing? Or is it the fact that other parties have spent more time engaging with online algorithms, collecting data on what resonates and using it to their advantage?
We hear too much about debunking, which comes after the fact, and not enough about “prebunking”: forewarning audiences about falsehoods they may hear, and equipping them with the ability to refute such claims immediately. When social media companies have included “prebunks”, such as in pre-roll ads on YouTube, researchers have found they can work. In five controlled studies from Google, the University of Cambridge and the University of Bristol, people who had seen a video about disinformation tactics were significantly better at identifying them, and they were significantly less likely to say they would share manipulative content. Labour isn’t going to get companies such as YouTube to do prebunking ads on autumn budget revelations – but a more competent social media strategy from its own accounts would help stem the tide of confusion and misinformation.
If Labour is really so worried about social media, and is genuinely passionate about restoring the glory of “good local newspapers”, then as the party in power it is in the perfect position to act. It could read the recent Future of News report from the House of Lords communications and digital committee, which recommended tax breaks for hiring local journalists, training schemes and expanding the Local Democracy Reporting Service. And in the new year, the Local News Commission – of which I am a member – will publish its own detailed recommendations. One of my biggest learnings has been that big tech should be incentivised, or indeed forced, to better support the information and content it relies on from news organisations.
Downing Street has recently set up a new digital unit to work with influencers and creators in an attempt to promote the government on TikTok and Instagram – after an internal review found 70% of government content is still posted on X. It’s a step in the right direction, but neither parties nor politicians should be mistaken that content creators are the solution to reaching the public on social media. Ordinary people go viral every day with relatable, intelligent and compelling content because social media is often the one place they can bypass traditional gatekeepers and have their voices heard. Grassroots movements and fringe politicians exploit this masterfully. The bigger parties at the top of the pecking order have to work twice as hard to convince us that they, too, represent us.
Before Labour launches its next policy, it needs to think how it will germinate online, and do the work to make sure the online land is fertile.