The poll is false. It does not belong to us.
In the weeks before Peru's presidential runoff, a fabricated poll bearing the name of respected firm Datum spread across Facebook and X, claiming Keiko Fujimori held a commanding lead over Roberto Sánchez. The image was a forgery — confirmed by Datum itself and exposed by fact-checkers who found it violated the JNE's mandatory disclosure standards and matched nothing in the firm's actual published work. It is a familiar episode in the longer story of how electoral seasons become fertile ground for manufactured certainty, and how quickly a credible name can be borrowed to dress a lie in authority.
- A poll image showing Fujimori at 59% and Sánchez at 27% spread rapidly on two of Peru's most-used platforms, carrying the visual weight of an official Datum publication.
- The forgery lacked the methodological disclosures — margin of error, confidence level, fieldwork dates — that Peruvian electoral law requires all published polls to include.
- Datum's communications team confirmed directly and without ambiguity: the survey does not belong to them, and they have published no runoff projections in May.
- Fact-checkers found Datum's most recent actual study dated to early April and addressed first-round voting intentions — an entirely different electoral question.
- The fake poll had already circulated through social networks before verification caught up, potentially distorting public perception of the race's momentum.
- With the runoff approaching, electoral misinformation risks intensifying — and the defense remains slow, effortful, and dependent on readers willing to pause and verify.
A poll image attributed to Datum, one of Peru's most recognized survey firms, began circulating on Facebook and X claiming Keiko Fujimori held 59 percent support against Roberto Sánchez's 27 percent in the presidential runoff. It looked official. The numbers seemed plausible. But it was entirely fabricated.
Fact-checkers at La República found no trace of the poll on Datum's website or verified accounts. The firm's most recent published study, from early April, had measured first-round voting intentions — not the runoff. The fake image claimed to do something Datum had not yet done at all.
The forgery also failed to meet the standards Peru's electoral authority, the JNE, requires of all published polls: sample size, margin of error, confidence level, fieldwork dates, and the name of the conducting firm. The fake included only a respondent count and a claim of national scope. The methodological backbone was absent — enough to look credible at a glance, not enough to withstand scrutiny.
When contacted directly, Datum was unequivocal: the poll was not theirs. They had published nothing about the runoff in May. The statement was brief and final.
What the episode reveals is how efficiently a fabricated poll can travel during an election season — borrowing a credible name, presenting familiar-looking numbers, moving through networks before verification can follow. As Peru's runoff draws closer, the conditions for this kind of disinformation only improve. The antidote — methodological transparency, direct source confirmation, and readers willing to pause — remains available, but it requires friction that the speed of social media rarely encourages.
A poll showing Keiko Fujimori commanding 59 percent support against Roberto Sánchez's 27 percent in Peru's presidential runoff has been circulating on Facebook and X, attributed to the respected polling firm Datum. The numbers looked clean. The image looked official. But the poll is entirely fabricated.
Fact-checkers at La República's verification unit traced the image back through social media and found no record of it anywhere on Datum's official website or verified social accounts. When they searched the firm's actual output, the most recent study Datum had published was from early April, focused on first-round voting intentions, not the runoff. The fake poll, by contrast, claimed to measure support for the second round—a race that hadn't yet taken shape in any of Datum's legitimate work.
The forged survey also violated basic standards that Peru's electoral authority, the Jurado Nacional de Elecciones (JNE), requires all published polls to meet. A complete poll must disclose the sample size, margin of error, confidence level, the exact dates fieldwork was conducted, and the name of the firm conducting it. The fake image included only a total number of respondents and a claim that the survey was national in scope. Everything else—the methodological backbone that would allow anyone to evaluate the poll's reliability—was missing. It was a shell, designed to look credible at a glance.
When La República's fact-checkers contacted Datum directly, the firm's communications department was unambiguous: the poll was not theirs. They had not published any studies or projections about the runoff during May. The statement was brief and definitive. The survey is false, they said. It does not belong to us.
What makes this case instructive is how easily a fabricated poll can spread during an election season. The image circulated on two of Peru's most-used platforms. It named a firm with genuine credibility. It presented numbers that seemed plausible enough—a lead for one candidate, a trailing position for another. Someone scrolling quickly might not notice the missing technical details. Someone sharing it might not think to verify it against the firm's actual output. By the time fact-checkers caught up with it, the image had already moved through networks, potentially shaping how people thought about the race.
The broader risk is clear: as Peru's electoral calendar advances and the runoff becomes imminent, the space for this kind of disinformation only grows. Voters rely on polling data to understand where the race stands. When fake polls circulate unchecked, they muddy that picture. They create false impressions of momentum, of inevitability, of settled outcomes. The antidote remains the same—verification, methodological transparency, and direct confirmation from the sources themselves. But it requires readers to pause, to check, to demand the evidence. In a media environment where images travel faster than truth, that friction matters.
Citas Notables
The survey is false and does not belong to us. During May we have not published any projections or studies related to the second-round presidential election.— Datum's communications department
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would someone go to the trouble of faking a Datum poll specifically? What's the strategic value?
A poll like this does two things at once. It creates a sense that one candidate is already winning—59 percent is a commanding lead. That can suppress turnout among supporters of the trailing candidate, or it can energize the frontrunner's base. It's not just information; it's a tool.
But Datum is a real firm with a real reputation. Wouldn't people check?
Some would. But on social media, most people don't. They see an image that looks official, a number that fits a narrative they already believe, and they share it. By the time anyone fact-checks it, it's already in dozens of conversations.
The fake poll was missing all the technical details—margin of error, confidence level, dates. Wouldn't that be obvious to anyone who knows polling?
To someone trained in reading polls, yes. But the average voter doesn't know what those fields mean or why they matter. The image looked complete enough. It had numbers. It had a firm's name. That was enough.
What does it say that Peru's electoral authority has to spell out these requirements in writing? That firms have to be told what to disclose?
It says that misinformation is predictable enough that it needs rules. The JNE knows people will try to fake polls. So they set a standard: if you publish a poll, you must include this information. It's a floor, not a ceiling. But it only works if people check.
And Datum—did they seem concerned when they found out their name was being used?
They were direct about it. False, not ours. But there's no sense they were surprised. This happens. Their job is to say so clearly when it does.