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    Facebook leak reveals policies on restricting New York Post's Biden story

    Facebook moderators had to manually intervene to suppress a controversial New York Post story about Hunter Biden, according to leaked moderation guidelines seen by the Guardian.The document, which lays out in detail Facebook’s policies for dealing with misinformation on Facebook and Instagram, sheds new light on the process that led to the company’s decision to reduce the distribution of the story.“This story is eligible to be factchecked by Facebook’s third-party factchecking partners,” Facebook’s policy communications director, Andy Stone, said at the time. “In the meantime, we are reducing its distribution on our platform. This is part of our standard process to reduce the spread of misinformation. We temporarily reduce distribution pending factchecker review.”In fact, the documents show, the New York Post – like most major websites – was given special treatment as part of Facebook’s standard process. Stories can be “enqueued” for Facebook’s third-party factcheckers in one of two ways: either by being flagged by an AI, or by being manually added by one of the factcheckers themselves.Facebook’s AI looks for signals “including feedback from the community and disbelief comments” to automatically predict which posts might contain misinformation. “Predicted content is temporarily (for seven days) soft demoted in feed (at 50% strength) and enqueued to fact check product for review by [third-party factcheckers],” the document says.But some posts are not automatically demoted. Sites in the “Alexa 5K” list, “which includes content in the top 5,000 most popular internet sites”, are supposed to keep their distribution high, “under the assumption these are unlikely to be spreading misinformation”.Those guidelines can be manually overridden, however. “In some cases, we manually enqueue content … either with or without temporary demotion. We can do this on escalation and based on whether the content is eligible for fact-checking, related to an issue of importance, and has an external signal of falsity.” The US election is such an “issue of importance”.In a statement, a Facebook spokesperson said: “As our CEO Mark Zuckerberg testified to Congress earlier this week, we have been on heightened alert because of FBI intelligence about the potential for hack and leak operations meant to spread misinformation. Based on that risk, and in line with our existing policies and procedures, we made the decision to temporarily limit the content’s distribution while our factcheckers had a chance to review it. When that didn’t happen, we lifted the demotion.”The guidelines also reveal Facebook had prepared a “break-glass measure” for the US election, allowing its moderators to apply a set of policies for “repeatedly factchecked hoaxes” (RFH) to political content. “For a claim to be included as RFH, it must meet eligibility criteria (including falsity, virality and severity) and have content policy leadership approval.”The policy, which to the Guardian’s knowledge has not yet been applied, would lead to Facebook blocking viral falsehoods about the election without waiting for them to be debunked each time a new version appeared. A similar policy about Covid-19 hoaxes is enforced by “hard demoting the content, applying a custom inform treatment, and rejecting ads”.Facebook acts only on a few types of misinformation without involving third-party factcheckers, the documents reveal. Misinformation aimed at voter or census interference is removed outright “because of the severity of the harm to democratic systems”. Manipulated media, or “deepfakes”, are removed “because of the difficulty of ‘unseeing’ content so sophisticatedly edited”. And misinformation that “contributes to imminent violence or physical harm” is removed because of the security of imminent physical harm.The latter policy is not normally applied by ground-level moderation staff, but a special exception has been made for misinformation about Covid-19, the document says. Similar exceptions have been made to misinformation about polio in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and to misinformation about Ebola in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.Facebook also has a unique policy around vaccine hoaxes. “Where groups and pages spread these widely debunked hoaxes about vaccinations two or more times within 90 days, those groups and pages will be demoted in search results, all of their content will be demoted in news feed, they will be pulled from recommendation systems and type-ahead in search, and pages may have their access to fundraising tools revoked,” the document reads.“This policy is enforced by Facebook and not third-party factcheckers. Thus, our policy of not subjecting politician speech to factchecking does NOT apply here. If a politician shares hoaxes about vaccines we will enforce on that content.” More

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    Despair or denial – are these the only options in the run-up to election night? | Emma Brockes

    Four days out from the US election, and everyone is feeling tired and emotional. It is hard to focus, easy to agonise, and soothing – if the volume of pain on social media is anything to go by – to share with the group one’s inability to function. This is not limited to people living in the US, but – as with the recent death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg and ascent of Amy Coney Barrett to the supreme court – is felt by plenty of observers abroad as acute and very personal pain. People are, by their own admission, weeping, paralyzed, grief-stricken, terrified, frozen, nauseous and bingeing. You can’t turn it off. There is no escape.
    At least this is the impression one gets after spending too long online. How we live psychologically in relation to the news is something we are assumed not to have much control over. You can be an ostrich and happy or that guy trapped in a feedback loop of conspiracy theories on Facebook – but nobody wants to be him. Or you can be informed and miserable, on which count not feeling completely dismantled at the moment is a dereliction of civic duty. Who runs the US affects the rest of the world, and it is not outlandish for Brits – or, say, affluent New Yorkers, insulated from the worst effects of a Trump re-election – to be emotionally disturbed ahead of the election. What remains curious is whether the sheer levels of reported distress are to any degree optional, or entirely related to the trauma at hand.
    If I put down my immediate worries, I can, within about three mental leaps, get from Trump’s re-election to the ship sailing on climate breakdown, to the end of human civilisation, taking my descendants with it. The same goes for the domino run of panic around Coney Barrett’s confirmation on the supreme court, bringing with it the threat of reversals on abortion and marriage equality. These planes, always idling at the end of the runway, require a small amount of energy to get airborne, however, and with a bit of effort – staying off social media; narrowing my range of vision to the next 45 minutes – I can usually stop the thing taking off.
    The question is whether I should want to. Distress as a form of empathy is imagined to be a precursor to action, the necessary spur to political activity. Denial, meanwhile, is imagined only ever to foster apathy. I’m sure this is true in lots of contexts, and yet when we are powerless to do anything, as we are at this stage of the election, anxiety itself feels like a proxy for Doing Something, and a useless one at that. Fretting on Twitter might offer solace, but it risks exacerbating the very thing it seeks to remedy.
    And it’s an unreliable measure of anything much beyond one’s own temperature. The two sharpest responses I’ve had to an election were in 1997, when Tony Blair became prime minister, ending a Tory run that had lasted all but three years of my life, coinciding with the elation of graduating and the dawn of adult life, and seven years later, when George W Bush won a second term by defeating John Kerry. I was in Britain in 2004: the US election had nothing to do with me – or rather, it was less my concern than it would be in 2016, when Donald Trump became president of the country I lived in. But while Trump’s election was a terrible shock, I felt the disappointment of the Bush re-election more keenly. I was less politically jaded then, more inclined to believe things would turn out OK, and still recovering from the death of my mother. As in 97, my response to the election was more life than politics.
    There are broader injuries that perhaps can’t be dodged. For Americans, Trump has delivered a psychological blow in the form of besmirching the very idea of their country, an injury over-arching all others. And while, for reasons of self-preservation, it might make sense to skirt Twitter for a few days, you can’t entirely avoid these things. I used to sleepwalk – or sleep-bolt – something I haven’t done for 10 years. I am calm during the day, but one night this week, I woke up at 2.30am in my living room, eyes on the clock, heart racing, trying to figure out how I got there and why.
    • Emma Brockes is a Guardian columnist More

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    'I don't care': young TikTokers unfazed by US furor over data collection

    Mauren Sparrow downloaded TikTok in March to pass the time during lockdown. Since then she’s posted tutorials on crafting and videos of her two cats, Calcifer and Jiji, some of which have accrued millions of views and likes. But with the Chinese-owned app now under fire over data privacy concerns, Sparrow, 29, and other young users have reacted with a resounding shrug.I’m so used to all social networks having my data that I feel it’s just the price I have to pay to connect with othersMauren Sparrow, TikTok user“I don’t really care that these corporations have my data as long as I know they have it,” Sparrow says. “At this point, I’m so used to all social networks having all of my data that I feel it’s just the price I have to pay to connect with others.”TikTok’s future has been in flux for weeks after the US secretary of state, Mike Pompeo, hinted at a potential ban in early July. Most recently, Donald Trump approved of Microsoft’s efforts to acquire a part of TikTok’s business, but only if the deal was completed by 15 September. A price has not yet been arrived at but could top $10bn.Threats of action against the app – which some US authorities fear could share user data with the Chinese government – sent shockwaves through the TikTok community, with many content creators rushing to launch live streams to direct followers to alternative platforms. Videos reacting to the potential ban ranged from technical tips on how to evade it, to anger at Trump, to indifference over data privacy. “Am I the only one who doesn’t care if China collects my data?” a user in one viral video stated. “Let [the Chinese government] have my data. They know me better than I know myself,” another joked.TikTok is one of the world’s most popular apps and has been downloaded roughly 2bn times, meaning a ban would not be easy, or popular. Forty-seven per cent of millennials and 59% of Gen Z – the biggest demographic on the platform – said the app should not be banned. Meanwhile, 25% of Gen Z users said they would be more likely to use TikTok if the US banned it. Just 9% said a ban would make them less likely to use it, according to a US survey from the market research firm Morning Consult.“I think that there would be a riot if TikTok were somehow truly banned in this country,” Sparrow said.The debate over TikTok’s future has also underscored the generational divide between the lawmakers legislating technology platforms and the people who use them. For Gen Z, which has grown up on Facebook, Snapchat and Instagram, having their personal data collected is a given. TikTok in particular thrives on oversharing, with young people using music to share embarrassing stories and photos of themselves, to the tune of millions of likes and comments. “Some of you are too comfortable on here” is a common refrain in the comments of videos.On a more fundamental level, most do not believe they have the choice to opt out of data collection, said Josh Golin, the executive director of the non-profit Campaign for a Commercial Free Childhood. “If you gave most young people a choice between protecting their privacy by getting off social media or staying on social media, they will stay,” he said. “But what if you had a choice to be both on social media and have your privacy protected?”With a historic hearing involving big tech firms last month and new data privacy laws in California and Europe, there have been incremental steps towards that goal. But many users are not in a hurry to force companies to change their data practices. Studies show Gen Z is more tolerant of targeted advertising and less bothered by surveillance. While 46% of Gen X and 45% of millennials are concerned companies will use their data against them, just 37% of Gen Z is worried, according to a 2019 survey from the marketing firm Mobile Marketer.It feels ridiculous to worry about China when it seems everyone is literally recording us as we grow upAnnie, 19-year-old TikTok userAnnie, a 19-year-old TikTok user who downloaded the app to pass the time during quarantine and now uses it daily, said she finds the US government’s focus on China “ridiculous” when US companies “do the same”.“Our personal data is collected by endless amounts of private corporations who just sell our details to the highest bidder,” said Annie, who asked to use a pseudonym to protect her privacy. “It feels a bit ridiculous to worry solely about China when it seems everyone is literally recording us as we grow up.”A spokeswoman from TikTok told the Guardian the company’s security team was led by an experienced, US-based chief information security officer with “decades of industry and US law enforcement experience”. All US user data was stored in the US, she added, with strict controls on employee access. The company has also released a series of informational videos on the app about how to keep user data private and secure. More

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    Biden's path to the White House could hit a dead end on Facebook

    The Observer

    Facebook

    Biden’s path to the White House could hit a dead end on Facebook

    Mark Zuckerberg’s autocratic nature and fear of anti-trust legislation might see him plump for Trump in the race for president
    Q&A with Facebook whistleblower Yaël Eisenstat
    Q&A with early Facebook investor Roger McNamee
    Carole Cadwalladr: If you’re not terrified about Facebook, you haven’t been paying attention More

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    Yaël Eisenstat: 'Facebook is ripe for manipulation and viral misinformation'

    The Observer

    Facebook

    Interview

    Ian Tucker

    The ex-CIA officer on why she lasted only six months at the tech giant and her fears about its role in the forthcoming US election
    John Naughton on how Facebook could stop Biden’s progress to the White House
    Q&A with early Facebook investor Roger McNamee
    Carole Cadwalladr: If you’re not terrified about Facebook, you haven’t been paying attention More

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    The Guardian view on Facebook and democracy: real and present danger | Editorial

    In every political debate since Facebook began to dominate democracy, the company has placed itself on the wrong side of history. The social media firm cannot be reformed from within because its business model profits from hosting bomb-throwing circuses of hate, humbug and hogwash. The platform harvests users’ personal data to algorithmically recommend content but […] More