UK launches counter-disinformation agency as 'poisonous tide' of state-backed falsehoods spreads

Russia finds points of tension and creates more content around them
Experts warn the problem isn't false narratives themselves, but how coordinated networks exploit genuine grievances.
Mark

So the UK is creating this new agency. What's actually changed that made this necessary now?

Mimi

The scale and sophistication have become impossible to ignore. We're not talking about a few viral hoaxes anymore—it's coordinated campaigns using deepfakes, AI poisoning, fake media outlets, all working together to amplify divisive narratives.

Luke

But how much of this is actually new versus just more visible? The Southport riots happened in 2024, and the government already created a monitoring unit then. What does this new agency actually do differently?

Mimi

The monitoring unit focuses on immediate public safety threats. This new centre is supposed to tackle the infrastructure—the networks, the tactics, the coordinated campaigns themselves.

Mark

And who's behind it? Just Russia?

Mimi

Russia is the most systematic, but it's also China, Iran, far-right influencers, and people just making money off divisive content. That's what makes it so hard to address.

Luke

The study said a quarter of news-related posts on X are misinformation. That's a huge number. But how much of that is deliberate disinformation versus just people sharing things they think are true?

Mimi

That's the distinction the government makes—misinformation is inadvertent, disinformation is deliberate. But they intertwine. Russia finds real tensions in society and amplifies them, so it's not always clear where the line is.

Mark

What about the free speech question? Won't people argue the government is just censoring things it disagrees with?

Mimi

Almost certainly. And the experts I read said malign networks will deliberately amplify those concerns to undermine the agency's credibility.

Luke

So the agency has to prove it's not just policing speech, but actually disrupting coordinated networks. That's a much harder thing to do transparently.

Mark

Is there any evidence this approach actually works? Sweden and France have similar agencies.

Luke

The reporting doesn't say. That's worth watching.

  • Deepfakes bearing the logos of trusted broadcasters and AI systems quietly poisoned with fabricated stories have made the boundary between fact and fiction genuinely difficult to locate for millions of ordinary people.
  • The scale of the operation is industrial: posts describing London as dangerous and lawless surged from under a thousand in 2008 to over a quarter of a million by 2024, a trajectory that did not emerge from nowhere.
  • Far-right influencers and content creators chasing engagement revenue have fused with state-sponsored networks, turning every social flashpoint — Southport, Belfast — into raw material for coordinated amplification.
  • The UK government is betting that targeting the infrastructure of disinformation, rather than individual viral posts, is the only strategy with any hope of working at scale.
  • Experts warn the new agency must tread carefully: the grievances that make people receptive to false narratives are often real, and a heavy-handed response risks validating the very free-speech concerns that hostile networks will eagerly amplify.

In an age when fabricated videos and phantom news reports can reach millions before the truth has laced its boots, the United Kingdom has moved to establish a National Centre for Information Defence — a formal acknowledgment that the battle for shared reality is no longer a fringe concern but a matter of democratic survival. The threat is not merely foreign: Russia, China, and Iran operate alongside far-right influencers and profit-driven creators in a vast, interlocking ecosystem that finds the fractures in a society and widens them. Deputy Prime Minister Andy Burnham's announcement reflects a hard-won understanding that policing individual falsehoods is futile — it is the machinery behind them that must be confronted.

The deepfake of Tom Cruise denouncing the Paris Olympics never happened. The BBC report blaming Ukraine for a missile strike on its own citizens in Kramatorsk was a fabrication. Millions encountered both anyway — and that gap between what occurred and what was believed is the problem the UK government is now formally mobilising to address.

Russia, China, Iran, and a sprawling coalition of far-right influencers and profit-seeking creators have constructed something resembling an industrial operation for manufacturing false narratives. The methods vary: deepfakes stamped with the logos of reputable outlets, floods of divisive content targeting existing social tensions, and a subtler tactic of seeding the internet with invented stories — Ukrainian soldiers' remains processed as food, bedbug infestations in France blamed on Ukrainian refugees — in the hope that AI systems will absorb and repeat them. A Social Market Foundation study found more than a quarter of news-related posts on X were misinformation, a third of them centred on anti-immigration or Islamophobic themes.

Deputy Prime Minister Andy Burnham has announced the creation of the National Centre for Information Defence, describing the situation as a 'poisonous tide.' The agency reflects expert consensus that hunting individual viral posts is a losing strategy; the real target must be the coordinated networks and platforms that manufacture and distribute them at scale. The Doppelgänger network, which impersonates outlets including Le Monde, the Guardian, and Der Spiegel, illustrates how sophisticated this infrastructure has become. The UK sanctioned Russian entities including the Social Design Agency in May, identifying them as instruments of Kremlin interference.

The ecosystem, however, extends well beyond state actors. Analysts describe a layered system in which Russian amplification, far-right opportunism, and simple commercial incentive reinforce one another — each riot or social rupture becoming content, and content becoming revenue. Sweden's Psychological Defence Agency and France's equivalent body have offered models; British MPs had been calling for something similar for some time.

The announcement is widely welcomed, but it arrives with complications. Malign networks will weaponise free-speech arguments against the agency itself. And scholars caution that the people drawn to disinformation are not simply being deceived by outsiders — Russia succeeds in part because it finds genuine grievances, real feelings that institutions are failing, and builds upon them. The new centre will need to disrupt the machinery of falsehood without dismissing the legitimate frustrations that make that machinery effective.

The deepfake of Tom Cruise criticizing the Paris Olympics never happened. Neither did the BBC report blaming Ukraine for a missile strike on its own citizens in Kramatorsk. But millions of people saw them anyway, shared them, believed them—and that is precisely the problem the UK government is now trying to solve.

Russia, China, Iran, and a sprawling network of far-right influencers and profit-seeking content creators have built what amounts to an industrial operation for manufacturing and distributing false narratives across the internet. The campaigns are systematic and varied. Some deploy obvious deepfakes stamped with the logos of trusted news organizations. Others flood social platforms with divisive content designed to exploit existing tensions. Still others poison artificial intelligence systems by seeding the internet with fabricated stories—tales of Ukrainian soldiers' bodies being processed into meat, of bedbug infestations in France blamed on Ukrainian refugees—in the hope that chatbots will absorb and regurgitate them to millions of users.

The scale is staggering. A study by the Social Market Foundation found that more than a quarter of posts on X relating to news were misinformation, with a third of those focused on anti-immigration or Islamophobic themes. Analysis of Reddit accounts by King's College London showed posts describing London as dangerous and lawless rose from 874 in 2008 to 258,444 in 2024. Russia did not necessarily invent these narratives, but it amplified them relentlessly, finding points of genuine tension in British society and creating more content around them.

Andy Burnham, the UK's deputy prime minister, has announced the creation of the National Centre for Information Defence to confront what he calls a "poisonous tide." The new agency represents a recognition that the problem is not individual false claims—those are nearly impossible to police—but the infrastructure that enables coordinated networks to function at scale. Experts have long argued that chasing isolated TikTok videos or X posts is a losing game. The real work lies in understanding and disrupting the systems that manufacture and distribute them. Ned Mendez, head of research at Alliance4Europe, a nonprofit analyzing these destabilizing threats, put it plainly: "You can spend all your time looking for a TikTok or a post on X but it's not an effective use of your day. It's the infrastructure that is the problem."

The ecosystem is more complex than state actors alone. Sophie Williams-Dunning, a cyber analyst at the Royal United Services Institute, describes a "sophisticated ecosystem which exists to exacerbate provokable users for one reason or another." Russia amplifies divisive content, yes, but far-right influencers immediately seize on social flashpoints like the Southport and Belfast riots. Individuals produce highly engaging content riffing on disruption simply because it makes money. The Doppelgänger network, for instance, imitates the appearance of established media organizations including Le Monde, the Guardian, Der Spiegel, and Fox News. The UK government sanctioned Russian entities including the Social Design Agency and ANO Dialog in May, identifying them as tools the Kremlin uses for large-scale interference campaigns.

The British government has been aware of the threat for some time. In May, the Starmer administration warned that Britain was "confronting an industrial-scale attack on the UK's and our allies' information environment, aimed at undermining our security and democratic systems." After the Southport disturbances in 2024, the government launched the National Internet Intelligence Investigations unit, operated by the police, to monitor social media and help local forces manage public safety threats. MPs on the foreign affairs select committee had called for a dedicated national counter-disinformation centre, pointing to models like Sweden's Psychological Defence Agency and France's Vigilance and Protection against Foreign Digital Interference service.

Burnham's announcement is, as Williams-Dunning notes, "welcome, if overdue." But it will inevitably trigger a debate about free speech and the appropriate level of government intervention. Malign networks will amplify those free-speech concerns themselves, she warns. Robert Topinka, a reader in digital media and rhetoric at Birkbeck, University of London, cautions that counter-disinformation efforts should not assume people are simply being fooled by outside actors. Rather, Russia tends to find genuine points of tension—the real feeling that Britain is run-down, that institutions are failing—and then create more content around them. The new agency will have to navigate that distinction carefully, addressing the infrastructure of disinformation without dismissing the legitimate grievances that make people vulnerable to it in the first place.

We're talking about an insidious campaign that reaches into people's homes and twists what they feel about their own country and community—creating a narrative of decline, stoking division and sowing despair.
— Andy Burnham, UK deputy prime minister
It's the infrastructure that is the problem, so this is a step in the right direction, going after the networks.
— Ned Mendez, Alliance4Europe
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