After much bickering with friends on a WhatsApp group over the inflammatory content of a forwarded message that seemed clearly manipulated, I exited the battle. It was clear they wouldn’t consider any evidence I presented if it stood in the way of the alternative “facts” they subscribed to. The version of events presented in the forward aligned with an ideology and came from a source that they considered infallible. Their minds had been manipulated. I realised I would need an altogether different toolkit to prove this to them.

A war had to be waged. But how was it to be won? It occurred to me that few stories carry greater credibility than those that appear in a newspaper. That settled it.

It took 10 minutes to look up an online tool that allowed me to create a news clipping. Another 10 minutes to compose a story that insinuated it had appeared in The New York Times. The final output stated that I’d been shortlisted for the Pulitzer Prize in journalism.

I sent it out on the WhatsApp group with the comment: “Feeling overwhelmed. Thank you for your support guys over the years. Love you all!”

A stunned silence greeted my post. This was going to plan. I was messing with their heads. Eventually, the first message came in. Grudgingly. “Boss! You’ve made us proud!”

“Thanks man! Will call. Fielding too many calls right now and juggling work.” I responded.

A deluge of congratulatory messages from members of the group followed.

What I hadn’t anticipated was how quickly this would backfire as well. Happy with the clip I’d created, I shared it with my wife, daughter and some close friends who understand the news business. I assumed they’d see through it right away. My family knows I try to pull a fast one every once in a while, and if anyone in the news business with a sharp eye looked at it closely, they’d spot it as a fake. But in this case, almost no one did.

As I stepped out of my room a little later, a teary-eyed wife hugged me tight and the older daughter looked all proud of her dad. She couldn’t wait to show off to her friends! Not just that, they’d shared it over WhatsApp with others in the family. I could see messages from friends trickling in on my phone now. They desperately wanted me to get on a call to begin celebrating.

It broke my heart to begin telling everyone it was a fake. And hard to see those around me struggle to hide their disappointment — at having nothing to celebrate, at having been so wrong, and now feeling foolish. That’s when it hit me. People see and hear what they want to see and hear not just because they’re stubborn or incapable of admitting error. It’s also because it’s so much easier to dig the self in deeper than dig the self out of a hole. As with so many things, take enough turns in the road, and it’s almost impossible to turn back.

Those who craft fake narratives understand this intuitively. That is why, as a thumb rule, I don’t take any narrative on social media platforms at face value, even if they originate in people I know.

Why did friends who are ideologically opposed to me, then, buy into my Pulitzer nominee story? And why have they started to consider my opinions on all things more seriously?

Let me put it this way. Humans have fickle memories, and minds that are easily swayed. The story I crafted didn’t attack their ideology. Instead, it was something they wanted to be a part of. Suddenly, what they could see was a friend they grew up with, not an ideological opponent.

I haven’t bothered to clarify with them that it is a prank. But I will, eventually. When we argue as we often do around ideology, and they decline to consider evidence that does not fit their worldview, this clipping will be deployed to demonstrate how easily minds can be manipulated.

This piece was first published in Hindustan Times. Copyrights vest with HT Media