When the media becomes a party to disinformation

How a breakdown in editorial process can offer a sobering lesson about journalistic credibility in an age of eroding trust

By Tatiana Der Avedissian

No person or organisation is infallible; we all make mistakes or suffer from lapses in judgment. For an individual, it can be easy to recover from, but when you are a news organisation, the consequences can be much greater, especially at a time when trust in journalism is at an all-time low.  

The media industry has reduced costs exponentially to address the dramatic decline in advertising and other revenue. This has inevitably come at great cost to its journalism; slimmed down newsrooms, more freelancers, while dealing with increased demand for round-the-clock, multi-format content online. Far too often, the result has been an erosion of critical elements of the editorial process. 

There are many instances where I have encountered this, as an avid news consumer, but I will focus on two examples that relate to Armenians and illustrate how a poor editorial process can mislead readers. 

When CounterPunch, an independent left-wing publication known for hosting dissident and anti-establishment voices, published “Armenians, Kurds, Turks and Tolstoy” in February 2023, it did more than romanticize geopolitical tragedy. It recounted in detail a supposed 1893 meeting between Armenian university students and Leo Tolstoy — a dramatic encounter that, upon scrutiny, appears never to have happened.

In March 2025, a friend shared this with me. I was surprised,  as I had never come across this supposed encounter during my studies of Armenian history. In the article, the Armenians display some hostility toward Kurds, and Tolstoy is judgmental. I inquired with others, more knowledgeable than I, and no one could confirm the meeting ever took place. So I wrote a letter to the editor to check the writer's sources. In it I wrote: “The article itself links to a 1908 Tolstoy biography that does not mention Armenians, and certainly not the scene it claims to recount in detail.” 

I have yet to receive a reply, even after following up. Not even an acknowledgement.

This episode matters for two reasons.

First, the factual issue. This case is not merely a disputed interpretation of history — it is a likely fabrication or complete misrepresentation of what is the essay’s central premise. If the encounter never occurred, then the narrative it anchors becomes suspect, and the judgment it implicitly passes on Armenians — a community that faced near-eradication in the decades that followed — becomes profoundly unfair.

Second, the editorial failure. Journalism is built on credibility, not only in reporting but also as reflected in responsiveness to reader concerns. When editors do not respond  — especially about narratives involving mass violence — they erode not only their own publication's trustworthiness, but the broader public's faith in the media.

The second example is a news story that appeared in The Guardian in January 2023 under its sponsored project, The Age of Extinction, which is funded by various leading foundations. The article, which was clearly a repurposed press release, addressed Azerbaijan’s legal challenge against Armenia on alleged environmental damage and biodiversity loss under the Bern Convention in the Nagorno-Karabakh region. 

The original article contained no commentary from Armenian environmental groups or the government. And it makes no mention of the 2020 war in the region, instigated by Azerbaijan (ultimately leading to the 2023 ethnic cleansing of Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh). After publishing the article and posting it on X (formerly Twitter), Isabella Kaminski, a freelancer for the Guardian, received multiple tweets highlighting the imbalance in her coverage, which resulted in her seeking a statement from Armenia, which now appears in the updated article. 

Critically, she then shared on X an 11 post thread admitting she had no knowledge of the region and had been only interested in the legality of the topic. She acknowledged that the legal case, launched with “the help of top US lawyers & communications agencies,” was probably aiming to deflect attention from Azerbaijan’s crippling blockade of the region at the time. 

While I commend her for admitting her ignorance of the region and the situation, her decision to double down on the article and the Guardian’s decision to keep it under the current project banner are extremely problematic. 

While I am not suggesting the article should have been taken down, there are a few actions her editor could have taken to ensure the paper’s editorial standard was upheld. Firstly, the editor should have reviewed her piece thoroughly before allowing it to be published, and that includes fact-checking the information. Secondly, it should have been moved from its current section of the website, which is meant to focus on legitimate stories related to biodiversity loss, and moved to a more appropriate section where other press releases are published as news stories. Finally, an editor’s note should have been added at the end to state that the article had been updated with a response from the Armenian government, so readers are aware that it has been edited since it was published. 

Worth noting that it is especially concerning that the article appears underneath the Guardian’s donation appeal to readers. Until recently, the donation message mentioned protecting free journalism from dictatorships. As the Freedom House Index advises, Azerbaijan is one of the worst of those, so promoting what the freelancer admits is a PR effort by their government’s legal and communications team contradicts their own appeal message. 

According to Gallup's 2023 survey, only 31% of Americans say they trust the mass media “a great deal” or “a fair amount” –  a spectacular decline from a few decades ago. Much of this crisis is being driven by bad-faith actors: hyper-partisan cable networks, disinformation merchants, and algorithm-driven echo chambers. But it is precisely because trust is so fragile that responsible outlets must hold themselves to higher standards.

CounterPunch and the Guardian often position themselves as upholders of truth. That makes their integrity even more vital. If even such publications fall for disinformation and are uncompromising when challenged, where can readers turn?

There is perhaps no shame in publishing a flawed article, though, of course, it is regrettable and damaging. But there is great shame in refusing to engage with fair criticism —especially when the issue involves historical memory, genocide, war, and ethnic stereotyping.

The public should expect better. Editors should demand better from their staff. The quality of a paper’s journalism should not suffer because of cost cuts. And when errors or concerns are flagged, media outlets should see them as an opportunity to engage and to reestablish credibility.

This is not about ideology or opinion but about fact and fairness. Journalism is one of the few institutions that can hold power to account and help citizens make sense of the world. But when publications fail at the basics — historical grounding, balanced framing, responding to reader concerns — they feed a growing cynicism that threatens us all. So here’s my message to the media: You are needed, but you must do better. 

Tatiana Der Avedissian is a communications specialist and sustainability expert, board member, advisor, and co-founder of The Armenia Project.