Kathrine Nero
Apparently, nobody in politics disagrees anymore.
They SLAM. They BLAST. They RIP into their opponents. Sometimes they even DESTROY them.
At least, that’s what the headlines and teases tell us.
Spend a few minutes scrolling through political news and you’d think every disagreement was a full-blown confrontation. A candidate questions a policy and suddenly they’re “on the attack.” A lawmaker responds to criticism and they’re “firing back.”
Those verbs do a lot of heavy lifting.
They’re designed to get our attention, and they often succeed. But they can also make a fairly routine political exchange sound like an all-out war.
And in an election year, when we’re already divided, and every click, comment and share counts, there’s plenty of incentive to turn up the volume.
Welcome to the world of ragebait, where anger drives engagement and engagement can translate into money, influence or both.
I’ve spent more than two decades in television newsrooms, where writing headlines and teases was part of the daily routine. The goal was pretty straightforward: Give people a reason to watch.
Let’s talk about the TV news tease. It’s a 15-30 second promise of what’s to come, with as much salacious spin as you can jam into those precious seconds, while still staying on the right side of the truth. The whole idea is to keep someone from changing the channel during the commercials. So you find the best, the craziest, the most head-turning nugget of the story that will make the viewer go, “I have to stick around for this.”
But there was – and is – always a line between getting someone’s attention and misleading them about what they were about to see.
That line seems increasingly blurry in today’s media landscape.
Think about how we consume news now. We scroll through headlines on our phones, see snippets of stories on social media and encounter information from sources we’ve never heard of. Often, we make a judgment about a story before we’ve read a single paragraph.
And the people creating that content know it.
A headline, a story or a tease doesn’t even have to be false to be misleading. It can emphasize one detail, leave out another or frame a relatively ordinary development as a five-alarm emergency.
Consider an August headline from Cleveland.com: “GOP fears data center backlash could sink Husted’s Senate bid.”
The story concerns an internal Republican memo warning that public concerns about data centers could affect Ohio’s U.S. Senate race.
But look at the language. Fears. Backlash. Sink. Those are powerful words, especially when they’re attached to an election.
And to be fair, the reporting supports the headline. That’s an important distinction. Still, it’s worth considering how differently we might react to a headline that simply read “Republicans concerned about data centers.” It gets you to click. It gets you interested. And in this case, it also gets you good reporting you might not have otherwise found.
That’s the power of a headline. And it’s a power journalists have a responsibility to use carefully.
Language makes a difference.
Consider the difference between these two hypothetical headlines:
“Lawmakers debate proposed changes to Ohio education funding.”
“Ohio lawmakers under fire over controversial school funding plan.”
Both could describe the same legislative discussion. But the second one creates an expectation of conflict before we’ve learned what the proposal actually does.
Now imagine that headline appearing in your social media feed alongside a dramatic photograph and a comment from someone you trust.
Are you more likely to click? Comment? Share?
Researchers have found there’s a good chance you might.
A 2024 study published in Science examined how outrage influences the spread of misinformation online. Researchers found that misinformation sources generated more outrage than trustworthy sources and that people were more willing to share outrage-provoking misinformation without reading it first.
Let that sink in.
We’re sometimes sharing stories we haven’t read because the headline made us mad enough to react.
And during an election year, that presents an opportunity for anyone trying to influence public opinion.
Here in Ohio, voters are navigating high-profile races for governor and U.S. Senate. Coverage of the contests between Amy Acton and Vivek Ramaswamy and between Sherrod Brown and Jon Husted competes with campaign advertising, commentary, social media posts and partisan messaging.
It’s increasingly easy for all of it to blend together. Was that an ad I saw? Or a new story?
Political campaigns have always used emotional appeals. Attack ads are built around carefully selected words, images and sound bites. But those same tactics now show up in content that looks like ordinary news coverage.
In fact, some of it is designed to look exactly like local journalism.
They’re sometimes called “pink slime” websites, a rather unpleasant name for online publications that present themselves as independent local news outlets while advancing political interests.
In 2024, the media watchdog NewsGuard identified 1,265 of these sites nationwide, more than the 1,213 daily newspapers it counted in the United States at the time.
And Ohio has been a target.
NewsGuard has documented partisan news operations on both sides of the political spectrum, including a publication called The Ohio Independent, which it identified as part of a network distributing politically favorable content ahead of the 2022 midterms.
The concern is fairly obvious. A website with a familiar-sounding name, local headlines and a professional layout can appear credible at first glance. Readers may have no idea who’s funding it or what political interests are behind it.
As someone who spent years working to build trust with a local audience, I find that particularly troubling.
Credibility is earned through reporting, verification, transparency and accountability. A convincing website design can be created in an afternoon.
And then there’s the role of legitimate news organizations.
We have to acknowledge that traditional media outlets are competing for attention, too. Digital traffic matters. Ratings matter. Headlines matter.
There are legitimate reasons to write a compelling headline. A major policy decision, a public official’s misconduct or a consequential court ruling may deserve urgent coverage.
But there’s also a responsibility to make sure the headline accurately reflects the story beneath it.
When every disagreement becomes a “firestorm” and every criticism becomes a “brutal takedown,” we risk losing our sense of proportion.
And when readers begin to distrust the headlines, they may start distrusting the reporting, too.
So what can we do?
For starters, read past the headline. Look at who’s publishing the story. Check whether the information comes from original reporting, a campaign statement or somebody’s social media post.
And if a headline makes you immediately furious, consider that a reason to slow down.
Anger can be a perfectly reasonable response to news. Sometimes it’s even the appropriate one.
But it shouldn’t be the only thing determining what we read, believe or share.
Because every time we click, comment or forward a story, we’re helping decide what gets attention next.
And in a democracy, that’s a responsibility worth taking seriously.
Before you share the outrage, make sure you’ve read the story.
Apparently, nobody in politics disagrees anymore.
They SLAM. They BLAST. They RIP into their opponents. Sometimes they even DESTROY them.
At least, that’s what the headlines and teases tell us.
Spend a few minutes scrolling through political news and you’d think every disagreement was a full-blown confrontation. A candidate questions a policy and suddenly they’re “on the attack.” A lawmaker responds to criticism and they’re “firing back.”
Those verbs do a lot of heavy lifting.
They’re designed to get our attention, and they often succeed. But they can also make a fairly routine political exchange sound like an all-out war.
And in an election year, when we’re already divided, and every click, comment and share counts, there’s plenty of incentive to turn up the volume.
Welcome to the world of ragebait, where anger drives engagement and engagement can translate into money, influence or both.
I’ve spent more than two decades in television newsrooms, where writing headlines and teases was part of the daily routine. The goal was pretty straightforward: Give people a reason to watch.
Let’s talk about the TV news tease. It’s a 15-30 second promise of what’s to come, with as much salacious spin as you can jam into those precious seconds, while still staying on the right side of the truth. The whole idea is to keep someone from changing the channel during the commercials. So you find the best, the craziest, the most head-turning nugget of the story that will make the viewer go, “I have to stick around for this.”
But there was – and is – always a line between getting someone’s attention and misleading them about what they were about to see.
That line seems increasingly blurry in today’s media landscape.
Think about how we consume news now. We scroll through headlines on our phones, see snippets of stories on social media and encounter information from sources we’ve never heard of. Often, we make a judgment about a story before we’ve read a single paragraph.
And the people creating that content know it.
A headline, a story or a tease doesn’t even have to be false to be misleading. It can emphasize one detail, leave out another or frame a relatively ordinary development as a five-alarm emergency.
Consider an August headline from Cleveland.com: “GOP fears data center backlash could sink Husted’s Senate bid.”
The story concerns an internal Republican memo warning that public concerns about data centers could affect Ohio’s U.S. Senate race.
But look at the language. Fears. Backlash. Sink. Those are powerful words, especially when they’re attached to an election.
And to be fair, the reporting supports the headline. That’s an important distinction. Still, it’s worth considering how differently we might react to a headline that simply read “Republicans concerned about data centers.” It gets you to click. It gets you interested. And in this case, it also gets you good reporting you might not have otherwise found.
That’s the power of a headline. And it’s a power journalists have a responsibility to use carefully.
Language makes a difference.
Consider the difference between these two hypothetical headlines:
“Lawmakers debate proposed changes to Ohio education funding.”
“Ohio lawmakers under fire over controversial school funding plan.”
Both could describe the same legislative discussion. But the second one creates an expectation of conflict before we’ve learned what the proposal actually does.
Now imagine that headline appearing in your social media feed alongside a dramatic photograph and a comment from someone you trust.
Are you more likely to click? Comment? Share?
Researchers have found there’s a good chance you might.
A 2024 study published in Science examined how outrage influences the spread of misinformation online. Researchers found that misinformation sources generated more outrage than trustworthy sources and that people were more willing to share outrage-provoking misinformation without reading it first.
Let that sink in.
We’re sometimes sharing stories we haven’t read because the headline made us mad enough to react.
And during an election year, that presents an opportunity for anyone trying to influence public opinion.
Here in Ohio, voters are navigating high-profile races for governor and U.S. Senate. Coverage of the contests between Amy Acton and Vivek Ramaswamy and between Sherrod Brown and Jon Husted competes with campaign advertising, commentary, social media posts and partisan messaging.
It’s increasingly easy for all of it to blend together. Was that an ad I saw? Or a new story?
Political campaigns have always used emotional appeals. Attack ads are built around carefully selected words, images and sound bites. But those same tactics now show up in content that looks like ordinary news coverage.
In fact, some of it is designed to look exactly like local journalism.
They’re sometimes called “pink slime” websites, a rather unpleasant name for online publications that present themselves as independent local news outlets while advancing political interests.
In 2024, the media watchdog NewsGuard identified 1,265 of these sites nationwide, more than the 1,213 daily newspapers it counted in the United States at the time.
And Ohio has been a target.
NewsGuard has documented partisan news operations on both sides of the political spectrum, including a publication called The Ohio Independent, which it identified as part of a network distributing politically favorable content ahead of the 2022 midterms.
The concern is fairly obvious. A website with a familiar-sounding name, local headlines and a professional layout can appear credible at first glance. Readers may have no idea who’s funding it or what political interests are behind it.
As someone who spent years working to build trust with a local audience, I find that particularly troubling.
Credibility is earned through reporting, verification, transparency and accountability. A convincing website design can be created in an afternoon.
And then there’s the role of legitimate news organizations.
We have to acknowledge that traditional media outlets are competing for attention, too. Digital traffic matters. Ratings matter. Headlines matter.
There are legitimate reasons to write a compelling headline. A major policy decision, a public official’s misconduct or a consequential court ruling may deserve urgent coverage.
But there’s also a responsibility to make sure the headline accurately reflects the story beneath it.
When every disagreement becomes a “firestorm” and every criticism becomes a “brutal takedown,” we risk losing our sense of proportion.
And when readers begin to distrust the headlines, they may start distrusting the reporting, too.
So what can we do?
For starters, read past the headline. Look at who’s publishing the story. Check whether the information comes from original reporting, a campaign statement or somebody’s social media post.
And if a headline makes you immediately furious, consider that a reason to slow down.
Anger can be a perfectly reasonable response to news. Sometimes it’s even the appropriate one.
But it shouldn’t be the only thing determining what we read, believe or share.
Because every time we click, comment or forward a story, we’re helping decide what gets attention next.
And in a democracy, that’s a responsibility worth taking seriously.
Before you share the outrage, make sure you’ve read the story.
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