How Generation Z Earned the Title of Being Highly Credulous
The powerful algorithm is driving conspiracy theories among youth and undermining their capacity to distinguish between fact and fiction online.
TroibNews 
The video opens with striking red letters declaring: “2016 Democrat Primary Voter Fraud CAUGHT ON TAPE.” It features a series of blurred security footage showcasing clear instances of ballot stuffing. The catch? These clips actually show voter fraud occurring in Russia.
Would you have fallen for it?
A simple Google search could have swiftly uncovered the questionable origins of the video, along with news articles debunking its assertions. Yet, when Stanford researchers studying media literacy showed the video to 3,446 high school students, only three were able to pinpoint the Russian connection.
“There is this myth of the digital native, that because some people have grown up with digital devices, they are well equipped to make sense of the information that those devices provide,” says Joel Breakstone, who led the 2021 study. “The results were sobering.”
This fact about Gen Z is alarming, supported by various studies and observations: The generation most immersed in online activity is also the least adept at distinguishing fact from fiction on the internet.
This issue escalates as the internet—and specifically social media—emerges as the primary news source for younger individuals. Approximately three in five Gen Zers, aged between 13 and 26, report utilizing social media for news at least once a week. Specifically, 45 percent of those aged 18 to 29 say they are regular news consumers on TikTok.
While social media makes news more accessible, it offers minimal quality control over the information shared. Although individuals of all ages struggle to identify misinformation—and this challenge is only intensifying due to the rise of AI—Gen Z is notably more susceptible to deception. This vulnerability stems from a troubling feedback loop: Many young people grow increasingly skeptical of institutions, gravitating towards conspiracy theories, which pushes them away from mainstream news. As they delve deeper into niche online communities, they encounter fabricated information directed by powerful algorithms, further fueling their distrust. This pattern markedly contrasts older generations, who typically engage more with mainstream media, resulting in grim consequences.
I’ve witnessed this firsthand among friends in their 20s, who often recite information gleaned from TikTok as if it were factual. My peers and I frequently ask whether the source of someone’s information is a TikTok video and if they have taken the time to research it on Google afterward. The answer is usually no.
The misinformation circulating on TikTok and similar platforms varies from the sinister to the ludicrous: At one point, a segment of the app’s young users seriously questioned the life achievements of Helen Keller, who triumphed over the challenges of being deaf and blind. Similarly, last year during Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton in North Carolina and Florida, unfounded theories suggesting that the government was “geo-engineering” the weather proliferated online, with claims that Democrats targeted Republican-dense regions. Recently, a trend emerged where teens, relying on dubious advice, began using beef tallow as skincare, despite dermatologist warnings about its safety.
The underlying factor unifying these viral conspiracy theories is a pervasive distrust of institutions—ranging from schools to the medical community. This sentiment extends to the media: only 16 percent of Gen Zers express strong confidence in news sources. It's unsurprising that many young people dismiss traditional outlets in favor of social media platforms, often following unverified accounts with little regard for fact-checking.
The implications for American politics could be significant. If this trend continues unchecked, an increasing portion of the electorate risks falling prey to fake news and fringe conspiracy theories online, possibly exacerbating the hyperpolarization in politics.
When it comes to fact-checking, Gen Z exhibits a unique approach: they often head straight for the comment sections.
“They tend to feel comfortable relying on aggregate trust, so they’ll rely on Yelp reviews or Amazon reviews,” notes Daniel Cox, a pollster who studies young people. “This sounds like a very similar thing, right? They’re seeing what other people are saying about an article or a product and basing their decisions on that.”
In the context of algorithms, however, these comment sections can become echo chambers where few opposing views exist. The algorithm promotes videos to like-minded users sharing similar perspectives, regardless of accuracy.
“[The algorithm] helps segregate people in ways that are profoundly concerning to me,” Cox adds. “We’re not sharing the same experiences online—we’re having very discrete, different experiences by our gender or sexual orientation or politics… Everything that you’re experiencing, you can find some kind of validation online for it.”
This phenomenon is not limited to one political group: Both supporters and detractors of former President Donald Trump are equally susceptible to falling for fake information that aligns with their beliefs.
An illustrative instance of this dynamic features a fabricated viral soundbite of Trump allegedly suggesting that the District of Columbia should be renamed the District of America. While the audio has been debunked as AI-generated, viewers of the reaction videos remain unaware of this fact. In one video that amassed over 250,000 likes, the comments express disbelief and horror without questioning the audio's origin. “Why do we have the dumbest president in American history??” reads the most popular comment. Only after scrolling significantly through the comments might one find a clarification from the video creator stating, “I’m thinking it is AI.”
These echo chambers help clarify Gen Z’s increasing attraction to conspiracy theories. The image of the solitary individual in a basement wearing a tinfoil hat has evolved; today, it’s the TikTok enthusiast encased in a political bubble, particularly vulnerable to misinformation.
Young individuals cannot shoulder the blame entirely for their digital literacy deficiency. In educational settings, students learn to read closely and critically—a practice that, according to misinformation researchers, may inadvertently reinforce the notion of scrutinizing a single video for accuracy rather than encouraging them to seek further information online. Misinformation technology is advancing rapidly, making it challenging to differentiate truth from falsehood through mere viewing. In contrast, older generations, who engaged with the internet later in life, often maintain some degree of inherent skepticism about online content. For younger people, this critical thinking must be explicitly taught.
Gen Z's heightened susceptibility to misinformation compared to older generations arises not just from their social media habits, as behavioral scientist Rakoen Maertens from the University of Oxford points out, but also from their relatively limited life experiences and knowledge. Maertens, who assisted in developing a test assessing susceptibility to fake headlines, expresses optimism that Gen Z will enhance their ability to identify falsehoods over time, similar to previous generations.
Conversely, a troubling alternative looms—a scenario where the broader public may also adopt the disinformation patterns characteristic of Gen Z.
As the internet becomes increasingly embedded in daily life and more platforms embrace silo-enforcing algorithms, older generations, who previously maintained skepticism, might start to mimic the media consumption behaviors of youth—thus becoming just as vulnerable to AI-generated conspiracy theories and misinformation.
“It is a systematic issue,” concludes Breakstone. “The evidence is clear that folks of all ages struggle to make sense of the overwhelming amount of information that they encounter online, and we need to figure out ways to support people, to find better ways to make sense of the content that streams across their devices.”
Ramin Sohrabi for TROIB News
Would you have fallen for it?
A simple Google search could have swiftly uncovered the questionable origins of the video, along with news articles debunking its assertions. Yet, when Stanford researchers studying media literacy showed the video to 3,446 high school students, only three were able to pinpoint the Russian connection.
“There is this myth of the digital native, that because some people have grown up with digital devices, they are well equipped to make sense of the information that those devices provide,” says Joel Breakstone, who led the 2021 study. “The results were sobering.”
This fact about Gen Z is alarming, supported by various studies and observations: The generation most immersed in online activity is also the least adept at distinguishing fact from fiction on the internet.
This issue escalates as the internet—and specifically social media—emerges as the primary news source for younger individuals. Approximately three in five Gen Zers, aged between 13 and 26, report utilizing social media for news at least once a week. Specifically, 45 percent of those aged 18 to 29 say they are regular news consumers on TikTok.
While social media makes news more accessible, it offers minimal quality control over the information shared. Although individuals of all ages struggle to identify misinformation—and this challenge is only intensifying due to the rise of AI—Gen Z is notably more susceptible to deception. This vulnerability stems from a troubling feedback loop: Many young people grow increasingly skeptical of institutions, gravitating towards conspiracy theories, which pushes them away from mainstream news. As they delve deeper into niche online communities, they encounter fabricated information directed by powerful algorithms, further fueling their distrust. This pattern markedly contrasts older generations, who typically engage more with mainstream media, resulting in grim consequences.
I’ve witnessed this firsthand among friends in their 20s, who often recite information gleaned from TikTok as if it were factual. My peers and I frequently ask whether the source of someone’s information is a TikTok video and if they have taken the time to research it on Google afterward. The answer is usually no.
The misinformation circulating on TikTok and similar platforms varies from the sinister to the ludicrous: At one point, a segment of the app’s young users seriously questioned the life achievements of Helen Keller, who triumphed over the challenges of being deaf and blind. Similarly, last year during Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton in North Carolina and Florida, unfounded theories suggesting that the government was “geo-engineering” the weather proliferated online, with claims that Democrats targeted Republican-dense regions. Recently, a trend emerged where teens, relying on dubious advice, began using beef tallow as skincare, despite dermatologist warnings about its safety.
The underlying factor unifying these viral conspiracy theories is a pervasive distrust of institutions—ranging from schools to the medical community. This sentiment extends to the media: only 16 percent of Gen Zers express strong confidence in news sources. It's unsurprising that many young people dismiss traditional outlets in favor of social media platforms, often following unverified accounts with little regard for fact-checking.
The implications for American politics could be significant. If this trend continues unchecked, an increasing portion of the electorate risks falling prey to fake news and fringe conspiracy theories online, possibly exacerbating the hyperpolarization in politics.
When it comes to fact-checking, Gen Z exhibits a unique approach: they often head straight for the comment sections.
“They tend to feel comfortable relying on aggregate trust, so they’ll rely on Yelp reviews or Amazon reviews,” notes Daniel Cox, a pollster who studies young people. “This sounds like a very similar thing, right? They’re seeing what other people are saying about an article or a product and basing their decisions on that.”
In the context of algorithms, however, these comment sections can become echo chambers where few opposing views exist. The algorithm promotes videos to like-minded users sharing similar perspectives, regardless of accuracy.
“[The algorithm] helps segregate people in ways that are profoundly concerning to me,” Cox adds. “We’re not sharing the same experiences online—we’re having very discrete, different experiences by our gender or sexual orientation or politics… Everything that you’re experiencing, you can find some kind of validation online for it.”
This phenomenon is not limited to one political group: Both supporters and detractors of former President Donald Trump are equally susceptible to falling for fake information that aligns with their beliefs.
An illustrative instance of this dynamic features a fabricated viral soundbite of Trump allegedly suggesting that the District of Columbia should be renamed the District of America. While the audio has been debunked as AI-generated, viewers of the reaction videos remain unaware of this fact. In one video that amassed over 250,000 likes, the comments express disbelief and horror without questioning the audio's origin. “Why do we have the dumbest president in American history??” reads the most popular comment. Only after scrolling significantly through the comments might one find a clarification from the video creator stating, “I’m thinking it is AI.”
These echo chambers help clarify Gen Z’s increasing attraction to conspiracy theories. The image of the solitary individual in a basement wearing a tinfoil hat has evolved; today, it’s the TikTok enthusiast encased in a political bubble, particularly vulnerable to misinformation.
Young individuals cannot shoulder the blame entirely for their digital literacy deficiency. In educational settings, students learn to read closely and critically—a practice that, according to misinformation researchers, may inadvertently reinforce the notion of scrutinizing a single video for accuracy rather than encouraging them to seek further information online. Misinformation technology is advancing rapidly, making it challenging to differentiate truth from falsehood through mere viewing. In contrast, older generations, who engaged with the internet later in life, often maintain some degree of inherent skepticism about online content. For younger people, this critical thinking must be explicitly taught.
Gen Z's heightened susceptibility to misinformation compared to older generations arises not just from their social media habits, as behavioral scientist Rakoen Maertens from the University of Oxford points out, but also from their relatively limited life experiences and knowledge. Maertens, who assisted in developing a test assessing susceptibility to fake headlines, expresses optimism that Gen Z will enhance their ability to identify falsehoods over time, similar to previous generations.
Conversely, a troubling alternative looms—a scenario where the broader public may also adopt the disinformation patterns characteristic of Gen Z.
As the internet becomes increasingly embedded in daily life and more platforms embrace silo-enforcing algorithms, older generations, who previously maintained skepticism, might start to mimic the media consumption behaviors of youth—thus becoming just as vulnerable to AI-generated conspiracy theories and misinformation.
“It is a systematic issue,” concludes Breakstone. “The evidence is clear that folks of all ages struggle to make sense of the overwhelming amount of information that they encounter online, and we need to figure out ways to support people, to find better ways to make sense of the content that streams across their devices.”
Ramin Sohrabi for TROIB News
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