On Assignment by The Assignment Desk

In this special bonus episode of On Assignment, guest host Dr. Leona M. Rios explores one of the most urgent issues in journalism today: the collapse of local news and the rise of informal digital ecosystems filling the void.

From the closure of hundreds of newspapers to the surprising role Facebook groups and WhatsApp chats now play in rural America, this episode uncovers how social media has become both the villain and the unlikely hero in the information landscape. With nuance and wit, Dr. Rios examines the anatomy of a “news desert,” the viral power of misinformation, and the unexpected resilience of community-run news efforts in places like Trinidad, Colorado.

Along the way, she breaks down:
  • How local news collapsed—and what took its place
  • Why misinformation spreads faster than truth
  • The psychological roots of why we share what we share
  • How partisan outlets mimic local journalism
  • And what we can do—from media literacy to policy reform—to reclaim an informed public
This isn’t just a story about media—it’s a story about democracy, identity, and what it means to stay connected in an age of fragmented truth.

On Assignment is produced by Robert Sterner.

Stay tuned for our next episode: Civic Navigators: Identifying and Supporting Trusted Community Messengers

What is On Assignment by The Assignment Desk?

On Assignment is a podcast about the people, practices, and ideas shaping the future of journalism. Produced by The Assignment Desk, each episode dives into the evolving world of local media, journalism education, news innovation, and the urgent fight against disinformation. From conversations about newsroom funding and emerging technologies to rebuilding public trust and reimagining community storytelling, On Assignment explores the challenges and possibilities facing today’s news landscape. Whether you’re a journalist, student, educator, or simply someone who cares about credible information, this podcast is your place to listen, learn, and stay connected to the mission of public-interest journalism.

Welcome to "On Assignment," where we explore the complex and ever-evolving landscape of how we get our news and shape our understanding of the world. I'm Doctor Leona Rios. I'll be your guest host today for this bonus episode.

Today, we're diving deep into a topic that's hitting nearly every community in America: the crisis facing local news and the surprising—often contradictory—role that social media is playing in this unfolding drama.

Let me paint you a picture. For decades, local newspapers were the heartbeat of our communities. They were our civic watchdogs, keeping us informed about city council meetings, school board decisions, and local elections. They helped us understand our shared values and gave us a sense of common purpose. But over the past twenty years, we've witnessed something devastating: a mass extinction of local news organizations.

Penelope Abernathy's research tells us just how dire things have become. Two hundred counties in the U.S. don't have a local newspaper at all. Nearly half have only one—often a weekly that's struggling to survive. More than 6% lack any dedicated news coverage whatsoever. This isn't just numbers on a page; it's a systemic crisis that's been building for years.

Here's what happened: the newspaper industry built its entire business model around stable advertising revenue. But when online platforms came along—platforms that could leverage vast amounts of user data—they siphoned away that advertising money, leaving local news organizations scrambling to survive.

The result? What researchers call "news deserts"—communities with very limited access to credible, comprehensive information. And the impact goes way beyond just missing the local sports scores. We're talking about decreased voter participation, less competitive elections, and increased political polarization. When people can't find local news, they often turn to social media instead, which leaves them vulnerable to misinformation and makes those political divisions even worse.

But here's the paradox we're going to explore today: the very digital platforms that many blame for killing traditional news are also becoming the de facto news sources for these underserved communities. It's a fascinating contradiction—these platforms can spread misinformation and create echo chambers, but they're also filling a vital community need.

Let's start by looking at the darker side of this shift.

When local news disappears, it creates what I like to think of as an information vacuum. And nature abhors a vacuum, right? Unfortunately, what rushes in to fill that space isn't always reliable information.

Social media platforms are designed in ways that can actually accelerate the spread of false information. Their algorithms modify what you see in ways that aren't transparent, often prioritizing content that gets extreme reactions from users. When you combine that with our natural tendency to seek out information that confirms what we already believe, you get what researchers call "homogeneous, polarized clusters"—echo chambers that make misinformation spread even faster.

Now, let me be clear about terminology here. Misinformation is false information that spreads without people realizing it's wrong. Disinformation is false information that's deliberately spread with malicious intent. Both thrive in these environments, but for different reasons.

A fascinating 2018 MIT study looked at how false news spreads on Twitter, and the results were pretty shocking. False news stories "diffused significantly farther, faster, deeper, and more broadly than the truth." We're talking about falsehoods traveling six times faster than accurate information. False stories often reached between 1,000 and 100,000 people, while true stories rarely reached more than 1,000.

Why does this happen? Brian Southwell from the Research Triangle Institute explains it comes down to human psychology. We tend to accept new information at face value before we evaluate whether it's true. And here's the kicker—we often share information not because it's accurate, but because it connects us with others. It's about social bonding, not truth-seeking.

The problem gets worse when you try to correct misinformation. Corrective information rarely gets the same attention as the original false story. And our legal tradition generally favors allowing information to spread before preventing its distribution. As Southwell puts it, "vacuums are really problematic because people need to try to reconcile and to provide certainty for themselves."

There's another layer to this problem that's particularly insidious: partisan media outlets that masquerade as local news sources. A 2020 report by Philip Napoli identified over 400 such outlets, mostly owned by a handful of conservative-leaning corporations. These sites present opinion-heavy coverage as seemingly objective news, which can dramatically increase political polarization within communities.

The challenge for platforms like Facebook and Google is that they struggle to differentiate genuine news from misinformation. And sometimes, disinformation can be so sophisticated that it fools even professional journalists. A 2019 Buzzfeed investigation uncovered an Iran-linked disinformation campaign that produced over 100 fake articles on websites impersonating real news outlets. Some were so convincing that Reuters covered one of them, and other legitimate news outlets spread it further.

If professional journalists can be misled, imagine how vulnerable regular social media users are. And this shift is diminishing what we call "institutional journalism" while supercharging a fragmented alternative media environment filled with podcasters, YouTubers, and TikTokers. Some of these personalities and influencers are becoming major sources of false or misleading information worldwide.

But here's where the story gets interesting. Despite all these challenges, these nontraditional information sources are also stepping up to meet crucial community needs. In many news deserts, community-run Facebook groups, newsletters, and other digital initiatives are becoming the actual local news sources.

Let me tell you about Trinidad, Colorado. This town lost its local paper over a decade ago. Karen Jo Agnello, who founded "The Voice of Trinidad" Facebook page, puts it perfectly: "Trinidad is a Facebook town." These groups share everything from local events and police updates to school announcements and weather warnings. It's become the digital town square.

In Cheyenne County—one of Colorado's first news deserts—there's a Facebook group called "Cheyenne Wells, Kit Carson, and Arapahoe Memories, NEWS, ADVERTISMENTS!" It's run by volunteers like Patty Hevner, who's also the county's deputy clerk. This group has around 1,400 members in a county of about 1,700 people. Think about that—most of the county is getting their local information from this Facebook group.

Now, these moderators are quick to point out they're not journalists. They curate posts, check sources for local relevance, and try to weed out spam, but they don't have the capacity for original investigative reporting. Still, they're filling a crucial role.

This connects to something researchers call "Identity Driven Information Ecosystems"—the idea that who we are, where we live, and who we know influences where we get our information and how we process it. For many people in these communities, social media groups provide a space where they feel supported and heard, where information is shared within a trusted network.

This is particularly important in rural areas where internet access isn't always reliable, and print media remains necessary for less tech-savvy populations, especially older residents who "don't get that news" online. As Betsy Barnett, owner of the Kiowa County Independent, points out, maintaining a physical presence where people can come in and talk is crucial for community cohesiveness and countering what she calls "rumor wells."

Beyond these informal groups, other nontraditional sources are trying to fill the news void:

Digital startups are emerging, though many focus on population-dense areas. Some sector-specific nonprofit outlets have had limited success, like NC Policy Watch and Carolina Journal in North Carolina. But these startups are often heavily reliant on social media to distribute their stories, which perpetuates the business model where platforms hold all the advantages.

Ethnic media outlets play a crucial role that often gets overlooked. They provide essential news to various ethnic groups, especially those ignored by mainstream press. They offer what researchers call a "counter-narrative" and critical information on issues like scholarships, medical insurance, and voting. These outlets often run on shoestring budgets with small staffs, making it difficult to fully cover a region. But in areas with low broadband penetration, ethnic media can be vital.

There's also growing potential for public broadcasting—PBS and NPR—to provide local news coverage, especially in underserved communities. Historically, many public media outlets relied on non-original content, but advocates are pushing for changing funding priorities to encourage more local news reporting. Some public radio stations are now actively producing original local news and have sustainable, member-supported business models.

News podcasts are becoming increasingly influential, especially among younger, better-educated audiences. People value them for providing "depth, insight, analysis, understanding" that helps them comprehend issues more deeply. While they're not typically a primary news source, they play a complementary role in people's news diets. Shows like The Daily from the New York Times and NPR's Up First are examples of established brands finding success in this space.

Then there's the rise of video-first content and influencers. Platforms like TikTok and YouTube have fueled the growth of personality-driven news creators. In France, young news creators like Hugo Travers reach a significant portion of younger demographics through YouTube and TikTok. In Kenya, creators like The News Guy and Crazy Kennar are challenging traditional brands. While these can blur the lines between journalism, activism, and entertainment, they also offer innovative ways to tell stories and build community, potentially re-engaging younger audiences who might otherwise avoid news.

Even AI chatbots are emerging as news sources, though usage is still relatively small—7% use them for news weekly globally, 15% for under-25s. As search engines integrate real-time news, audiences show mixed views. Some appreciate the relevance and efficiency of personalized news selection, perceiving algorithms as "less biased than human editors." Others worry about missing important stories or the accuracy and trustworthiness of AI-generated news.

So what do we do about all this? The challenges we face in this transformed information environment require a multifaceted approach. There's no magic bullet solution—we need to integrate legal, social, journalistic, and economic principles to address the harm to democracy if we just keep going as we are.

First, we need to educate the public. People need to understand the value of local news and develop strategies for evaluating the information sources they use. This is where media literacy becomes crucial—it's "more important than ever in today's world of media saturation."

There are practical tools we can teach people, like "lateral reading"—when you encounter an unfamiliar online source, you leave that webpage and open a new browser tab to see what trusted websites say about the unknown source. We're teaching students to be more skeptical and become more discerning consumers of online information. The goal is to create more demand for high-quality journalism and cultivate better-informed news consumers.

At the same time, we need to empower journalists and ensure local news organizations have the resources to hire enough reporting staff and provide necessary tools and training. This support could range from direct government funding—a concept that's gaining acceptance due to the dire financial situation of local news—to indirect regulatory or tax changes. Student journalists are also increasingly stepping in to fill gaps in news deserts.

We also need to address the immense power of what some call the "data oligarchy"—Google, Facebook, and Amazon. These platforms leverage user data as a key source of power, influencing user behavior and micro-targeting advertisers while sidelining traditional news sources. Proposed solutions include data portability and interoperability legislation, comprehensive federal privacy legislation, and stronger antitrust enforcement.

This could involve allowing news organizations to jointly negotiate licensing fees with platforms, or instructing federal agencies to presume certain acquisitions and mergers by dominant platforms are anticompetitive. Some experts even suggest breaking up dominant platforms entirely. Interestingly, platforms themselves have acknowledged difficulties with content moderation and called for additional federal regulation, viewing themselves as lacking the legitimacy and capacity to be "arbiters of truth."

But here's some encouraging news: despite all the fears and challenges, there's emerging evidence that following news accounts on social media can actually boost users' current affairs knowledge, awareness of true and false news, belief accuracy—the ability to discern between true and false news stories—and trust in news media. This happens without significantly increasing feelings of being informed, political polarization, or interest in news or politics.

This suggests that strategically enhancing users' exposure to "good" content in their online ecosystems can disrupt informational silos and strengthen democratic resilience. Even small changes, like increased following of news accounts, can lead to cumulative benefits over time, signaling to algorithms that users are interested in public affairs and potentially promoting future recommendations for relevant content.

It's a nuanced landscape. While platforms have been accused of facilitating harmful content, news media organizations have also integrated platforms into their communication strategies. The fact that users report wanting more educational and informative content, and that increasing news exposure on platforms doesn't necessarily decrease user engagement, challenges the notion that platforms should minimize news dissemination. Instead, it suggests there is a demand for free, reliable news, even on social media platforms, and that news can indeed help people discern fact from fiction.

The road ahead requires continued cross-disciplinary research and collaboration to develop a comprehensive understanding of information environments, particularly concerning misinformation, partisanship, polarization, propaganda, and political institutions. It demands creativity and adaptation from public leaders, journalists, and educators.

As we wrap up today's deep dive, it's clear that our current information environment presents both immense challenges and critical opportunities. The decline of traditional local news has left a void that's being filled, paradoxically, by the same digital platforms often implicated in its demise. These nontraditional avenues—from community Facebook groups to podcasts and news influencers—are proving capable of both spreading misinformation and serving vital community information needs.

The solution isn't about rejecting these platforms entirely, but about understanding their dynamics and leveraging their potential. It's about empowering citizens with media literacy, supporting journalists in new and innovative ways, and holding powerful tech companies accountable for their role in the information ecosystem.

Ultimately, the survival of informed communities and a healthy democracy depends on our collective ability to navigate this complex terrain, discern truth from falsehood, and champion quality local news, no matter where it originates.

Thank you for joining me for this bonus episode of "On Assignment." I'm Doctor Leona Rios, and I look forward to our next conversation.