And every time, people copy, paste, and hit “post” like they’ve just outsmarted a billion-dollar tech company with a paragraph written in ALL CAPS. I usually scroll past with a little eye roll and maybe a muttered, “Oh honey… no.” But this week, I heard something that stopped me mid-scroll. A librarian told a friend it was true.
A librarian.
Now, if there’s anyone I trust to know the difference between fact and fiction, it’s a librarian. These are the keepers of the Dewey Decimal System. The guardians of quiet. The people who can find anything if you give them three vague clues and a last name that might be spelled wrong. And yet… here we are. In 2026, here’s the uncomfortable truth: Smart people believe questionable things all the time. Not because they’re not smart. Because they’re human.
We want things to be true — especially when they make us feel a little more in control. That copy-and-paste post feels like action. Like we’ve drawn a line in the sand. Like we’ve told Big Tech, “Not today, sir.” It takes five seconds. It feels official. It even sounds a little legal-ish. And best of all? No research required. That’s the magic trick of misinformation. It doesn’t show up looking ridiculous. It shows up looking just believable enough — especially when someone we trust nods along and says, “Yes, I think that’s right.”
We’re all tired. The internet is loud. There’s always something new to worry about, fix, click, update, verify, or reset (preferably after turning it off and on again).
Sometimes it’s just easier to copy, paste, and move on with your day. But here’s the thing: Facebook does not care about your paragraph. Not even a little. They didn’t pause their board meeting. No one in Silicon Valley said, “Wait… JB has posted a declaration. Shut it all down.”
The only thing that post really does… is spread. And the more it spreads, the more it feels true. Which is how smart people — even librarians — get caught in the loop. So maybe the goal isn’t to never be fooled. That’s probably unrealistic. Maybe the goal is just to pause.
To hesitate for half a second before hitting “share.”
To wonder, “Is this actually how this works… or does it just feel like it should?” Because in the age of information, the real skill isn’t knowing everything. It’s knowing when to question something.
To wonder, “Is this actually how this works… or does it just feel like it should?” Because in the age of information, the real skill isn’t knowing everything. It’s knowing when to question something.
And here’s the part that truly leaves me… flabbergastational. Even after people find out it’s false — they don’t delete it. It just… sits there. Quietly. Incorrectly. Living its best little misinformation life.
I’m not saying we all need to issue formal retractions and hold press conferences on Facebook.
But a quick delete? A tiny “Oops, this isn’t true”? That seems reasonable, doesn’t it? Apparently not. Because deleting it would mean admitting we got it wrong. And for some reason, that feels worse than leaving something inaccurate floating around for Aunt Linda and the entire neighborhood watch group to absorb as fact.So instead, we scroll on… stepping neatly over our own digital footprints like they don’t belong to us.
A disclaimer we really need is this: I promise to fact check before I post… and delete any post once I find out it is not true.




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