The Rise of Fake Influencers and Rumours After Tragedy
- Renee Spencer

- 3 days ago
- 3 min read
PART 3 OF 4

In the days following the Bondi Beach attack, the internet became a mirror for both the best and worst of human behaviour. On one hand, there were stories of bravery, solidarity, and genuine mourning. On the other, a predictable — and deeply troubling — pattern reasserted itself: fake influencers, rumour-mongers and online opportunists flooding angry and grieving spaces with misinformation.
This phenomenon isn’t new, but a recent development on X has highlighted just how pervasive and organised it has become.
The ‘Location Transparency’ Revelation
Late in 2025, social media platform X rolled out a feature called “About This Account,” designed to show where an account was based, when it joined the platform, and how often it changed usernames. As users around the world began to explore this tool, they uncovered a startling pattern: many influential accounts, especially those spreading politically charged or sensationalist content, were actually operated from overseas — often far from the audiences they claimed to represent.
Accounts presenting themselves as patriotic commentators from the United States, for example, were found to be based in Eastern Europe, Africa, South Asia, and Southeast Asia. Some of those accounts had amassed hundreds of thousands or even millions of followers before their true locations were exposed.
This revelation didn’t just shake political corners of social media — it exposed a broader truth:
There’s an economic incentive in attention — and for some, that incentive overrides accuracy, ethics, and empathy.
A Global “Rumour Economy”
Many of the accounts that came under scrutiny weren’t simply sharing commentary — they were amplifying misleading or false narratives, often tied to polarising issues or tragedies. Whether it’s sensationalising conflict, politicising violence, or churning out conspiracy theories about catastrophic events, these accounts benefit when emotions run high — and when people click, share, and engage.
Unfortunately, this isn’t limited to any single region. While some of the most visible accounts exposed were based in places like Nigeria, Eastern Europe, and South Asia, the pattern reflects a globalised digital economy where:
influencers in poorer countries monetise engagement from wealthier audiences,
bot farms and coordinated networks inflate reach and visibility,
and sensationalism often pays better than truth.
The term “influencer” once meant someone who authentically connected with a community around shared interests. But in the age of algorithmic amplification, influence can be manufactured, outsourced, and monetised without real expertise, accountability, or integrity.
Why the Rise of Fake Influencers Matters After a Tragedy
In the wake of an event like the Bondi attack, many people are grieving and searching for explanations. That emotional openness creates fertile ground for disinformation to spread. Rumour-peddlers know that:
emotionally charged content spreads faster,
controversial claims generate more comments and shares,
and fear and confusion keep users online longer.
If an account that looks authoritative or popular shares a false claim — even about a tragic event — it can be replicated millions of times before anyone verifies it. It is important to take note of this rise of fake influencers after a tragedy.
That’s not just an abstract internet problem. We’ve already seen the real-world harm of misidentifying innocent people and throwing them into the spotlight as alleged perpetrators — with severe psychological and safety consequences.
The Broader Pattern: Misinformation Becomes a Business Model
What we’re seeing online isn’t random chaos — it’s a structured, algorithm-driven economy where engagement equals revenue. Sensationalism sells. Outrage generates traffic. And in that environment:
misinformation becomes profitable,
tragedy becomes content,
and attention becomes more important than accuracy.
That’s why, as individuals and communities, we need to be not just cautious but critical and compassionate information consumers.
Resisting the Rumour Economy
Here are a few guiding principles that help counter this trend:
Don’t assume popularity equals credibility. A large follower count or viral post doesn’t prove reliability — especially when locations and identities can be obscured.
Verify before you share. Take an extra moment to check established news sources, fact-checking outlets, or original reporting.
Be mindful of emotional triggers. Posts designed to provoke anger or fear are often engineered to maximise engagement — not truth.
Support accurate journalism and humane discourse. Tragedies deserve care, not clickbait. Victims deserve facts, not factional spins.
Conclusion: Humanity Before Virality
It’s understandable that people want answers in the wake of violent events. But that desire can’t come at the cost of truth. When fake influencers and misinformation networks exploit grief for views and money, they don’t just distort reality — they deepen suffering, sideline justice, and turn compassionate people into unwitting amplifiers of harm.
Our collective response to tragedy must be grounded in empathy, responsibility, and truth-seeking — not algorithms, ad revenue, or viral notoriety. Only then can we honour those affected with the dignity they deserve.
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