
Happy 2014, the year after The Year We Broke the Internet.
Last week, in a gloomy essay in Esquire, Luke O’Neil wrote that publications old and new have abandoned basic reporting—and worse, their basic concern for the truth—for the sake of speed and splash. “Big Viral, a Lovecraftian nightmare … has tightened its thousand-tentacled grip on our browsing habits with its traffic-at-all-costs mentality—veracity, newsworthiness, and relevance be damned,” he wrote.
Big Viral is real—though the exact number of its tentacles has yet to be confirmed—and though it can be used for good or evil, its destructive potential is enormous. But juicy stories, real or fake, have always traveled faster than boring facts. They’ve always rewarded their tellers. They’re just traveling faster and further than ever before.
While Big Viral can’t be stopped, it may be possible to housebreak it. Journalists have suggested several excellent strategies for correcting viral errors, and clever apps such as Retwact help users chase down bogus social-media posts.
For such tools to work, though, we tweeters and retweeters need to learn—or relearn—some respect for the facts. And for that, journalism already has a pretty good hack. We just need to repurpose it for the rest of us.

23 – 27 December

The Ramsay family has lived at the 