The 2016 Filipino presidential race, and Rodrigo Duterte’s winning campaign, was widely considered to be won on social media. The centrality of these platforms, however, allowed for rampant mis- and disinformation.
The 2016 Filipino presidential race, and Rodrigo Duterte’s winning campaign, was widely considered to be won on social media. The centrality of these platforms, however, allowed for rampant mis- and disinformation.
Photo: Aaron Favila/AP/Alamy

When one thinks of disinformation, what first comes to mind? Many might imagine authoritarian governments – maybe Russia or China – running sophisticated troll farms, or perhaps fringe conspiracists warning of secret state plots to inject us with microchips through vaccines.

But in the Philippines’ bustling digital economy a hidden workforce toils away, shaping the nation’s information ecosystem. A far cry from sensationalized images of extremists or ideologues, the rarely-discussed young Filipino disinformation workers seek nothing more than a paycheck. Their story reveals a complex web of economic necessity and moral ambiguity that fuels one of the world’s most active hubs of online disinformation.

Likes to lies

Mark, not his real name, was editor-in-chief of his school newspaper before graduating from college in 2017. He always wanted to be a journalist, but with limited options in a competitive job market he found himself working as a content writer for a fast-growing ‘trending news’ agency: Twinmark Media.

Working for Twinmark was not without its perks. Its employees, mostly in their 20s, were given competitive salaries and attractive employment benefits, lavish parties and out-of-town trips.

But Mark’s ‘content writing’ team rarely seemed to write any original content. Instead, they worked with a ‘social media team’ who scoured the internet for posts they could rewrite with the aim of going viral. They picked stories that were emotionally engaging, without fact-checking or vetting any of the information. Between four writers, Mark’s team was expected to produce 25 articles per day. ‘The company didn’t look for writers with journalistic backgrounds,’ said Mark. ‘They only look for fast writers and quick thinkers.’

Twinmark’s portfolio included news sites covering technology, health, celebrity gossip and more. But its most successful brand, for which it had become known, was Trending News Portal (TNP). TNP had been active since 2014, but it was the 2016 general election in the Philippines that really pushed its online presence to grow. That year, TNP became one of the top sources of news about the then-mayor Rodrigo Duterte, who was the first to successfully run a Facebook-driven presidential campaign. Duterte, after all, was the hottest topic on social media at the time, and covering him almost always guaranteed engagement and website traffic. Without verification, however, TNP also helped spread disinformation against Duterte’s critics.

On 25 June 2016 TNP published a story reporting a viral photo of Duterte critic and then-vice president Leni Robredo, falsely claiming that she was once married to a ‘leftist’. The photo, however, was not of Robredo. At the same time, TNP also spread pro-Duterte propaganda. ‘President Duterte is really not afraid of the threats he has received because he has strong faith in our God. This why we love you so much, President,’ TNP wrote in a post a few months after the vote.

Twinmark’s distribution network was unmatched on social media, which made its amplification of false claims profoundly impactful. Not only did it have multiple ‘news websites’ under its wing, but hundreds of Facebook pages and groups, each with millions of followers to share their content.

Mark, who had a journalism background, had eventually grown wary of the lack of verification process in their workflow. ‘I was the editor-in-chief in my school’s newspaper, so I know how to operate [an editorial team],’ Mark told me in Filipino. ‘That’s why, when I worked there, I stayed away from political articles.’ Mark left the company in November 2017.

Exposés into Twinmark’s cash flows eventually revealed that the ‘trending news agency’ had earned millions of pesos through programmatic ads and by offering their advertising channels, including their social media assets, to any paying client.1 An investigation by Filipino online news site Rappler, published in February 2021, also showed that the company spent millions every year on paying celebrities to post their content.2

In 2019, years after the first investigations, Facebook finally announced that it was banning Twinmark for repeatedly violating the platform’s misrepresentation and spam policies.3 The violation included coordinated inauthentic behavior – a term Facebook uses to describe groups of pages or people working together to mislead the public – the use of fake accounts, and selling access to Facebook pages to artificially increase distribution and generate profit.

Twinmark folded almost as soon as their assets were taken down on Facebook, only to return incognito weeks later with a new name and network of websites and accounts.4

The architects

As we peel back the layers of the Filipino disinformation machine, we discover a world where digital skills meet desperation, where political operatives exploit a willing workforce and where the ripple effects of local disinformation campaigns can be felt across the globe.

A study published in 2018 showed that when it comes to the production of disinformation in the Philippines, the notorious political influencers and troll armies are merely small fry.5 The architects running the show – and making huge profits in the process – are in fact respectable leaders and faces from PR and ad agencies.

Experienced in launching online campaigns, these high-level strategists work with influencers and fake account operators to spread disinformation on behalf of paying clients – often politicians. According to the study, those at the higher echelons of this sophisticated disinformation network were primarily motivated by ‘proving their clout in the political arena’, while those at the bottom were mostly in it for the paycheck.

This carefully constructed architecture enables a trickle-down of blame, where the professionalized upper management are treated as expert strategists. In contrast, the menial workers who carry out the bottom-level tasks are the ones who are typically vilified as ‘trolls’ or ‘bad actors’. By obscuring the involvement of the strategic masterminds, this system allows the real architects of disinformation to evade accountability and maintain their influence within the political sphere.

Meanwhile other agencies have found a way to decentralize their operations, enlisting digital workers without formal employer-employee relationships to amplify social media posts.

I’ve met with one such agency which provides access to thousands of mid-size social media accounts with just over a thousand followers each.

With the agency’s help, a client could make any post go viral through a vast menu of services. For as low as 25 pesos ($0.45) you can get a social media user to share your post – double that, and you can get them to upload an image. For a digital worker, it’s an easy way to get an income without having an influencer-level following and professional background. After all, it takes only a few seconds to like or share a post.

High levels of social media use in the Philippines, combined with rising unemployment, have created a vast workforce of digitally-savvy young people willing to perform menial disinformation labour for pay.
High levels of social media use in the Philippines, combined with rising unemployment, have created a vast workforce of digitally-savvy young people willing to perform menial disinformation labour for pay.
Photo: Danilo Pinzon Jr/Alamy

Influencers-for-hire

The exponential rise in influencers is in part thanks to the growing popularity of short-form video platforms, like TikTok, which have new algorithms allowing videos to go viral even without millions of followers.

In 2023, however, an online disinformation campaign against a Filipino celebrity exposed an influencer-for-hire industry operating in the shadows.6 Maggie Wilson found her furniture and interior design business targeted by influencers on TikTok, who would ordinarily have no business making content about her company. Leaked conversations online showed that the influencers were paid to smear Wilson, and were supplied with scripts to follow including screenshots of posts and articles to cite.

Though the motive behind the disinformation campaign against Wilson is still unclear, the case exposed a more sinister use of these ‘mercenaries for hire’. Internet sleuths observed that many of these influencers were also actively posting about political candidates in the same templated manner as when they attacked Wilson, indicating they had also been hired for political campaigns.6

What’s more, a later study found that thousands of influencer accounts across social media platforms engaged in covert political campaigning in the 2022

Philippines elections. Published in July 2023, the study indicated massive investment in covert activities to manipulate public opinion through political influencers, with an estimated 600 million to 1.5 billion pesos ($10.7m to $26.9m) spent on the recent election alone.7

This represents a new norm in political campaigning, where the influencer economy is exploited to leverage disinformation. You don’t need to look far for an example – the winner of the 2022 presidential elections has repeatedly been tagged as a ‘beneficiary of disinformation’ and relied mostly on influencers, instead of journalists, for exposure throughout the campaign.8

Tried and tested

A unique confluence of factors has positioned the Philippines at the epicentre of the digital disinformation trade, making it what Cambridge Analytica whistleblower Christopher Wylie described as an ideal ‘petri dish’ for testing tactics that were eventually exported to the West.9

Firstly, the Philippines boasts one of the highest rates of internet and social media usage in the world. As of 2024, the country has almost 87 million active social media users according to Digital 2024’s annual report.10 This represents a whopping 73 per cent of our total population and 99 per cent of internet users. In its 2023 report, Filipinos also ranked fourth in terms of time spent on social media, spending an average of three hours and 43 minutes online a day – compared to a worldwide average of two hours and 31 minutes. This digital saturation creates an ideal environment for the rapid spread of information, including disinformation.

On top of this, the Philippines’ robust outsourcing industry has created a pool of young workers skilled in content creation, social media management and digital marketing – skills that are equally valuable in the disinformation industry.

The fight against disinformation is not just about fact-checking or content moderation but also creating a more equitable, informed and resilient digital society

The economic situation here also plays a crucial role. Despite its economic growth in recent years, the Philippines still grapples with high unemployment, particularly among the youth, with rates of 4.7 per cent.11 And, as seen with Mark’s story at Twinmark, the allure of well-paid online work, regardless of its ethical implications, can be strong for many struggling to make ends meet.

Lastly, the regulatory environment in the Philippines struggles to keep pace with the rapid evolution of digital media and disinformation industries. While there have been efforts to arrest the problem, enforcement remains a challenge.

These factors combine to create a perfect storm: a digitally connected population, a skilled workforce in need of employment and a regulatory framework still catching up to the digital age. And what happens here has a ripple effect elsewhere.9

Similar patterns from the Philippines’ experience have also emerged in other countries with rapidly expanding digital access, high youth unemployment and regulatory gaps. For example, Indonesia has seen the rise of coordinated ‘buzzers’ – social media influencers paid to shape online narratives, often with ties to political interests. In Myanmar, the military junta has been accused of operating ‘troll farms’ to flood social media with pro-government propaganda and demonize opposition voices.

However, the role of tech platforms and their engagement-driven business models in this ecosystem cannot be overstated. The incentivized structure of platform giants like Facebook, X (formerly Twitter) and TikTok, are designed to keep users engaged, not informed. Big Tech’s emphasis on user growth and screen time rewards addictive and sensational content, creating a fertile ground for misleading or controversial content, which can often outperform verified news and information. In a country as online as the Philippines, these platform dynamics have a particularly pronounced effect, amplifying the harm of disinformation campaigns.

Our history of strong-man rule and ongoing political tensions further compound the damaging impacts of platform-driven disinformation. The Philippines’ transition to democracy in 1986 has been fragile, with periodic backsliding towards authoritarian tendencies. As various factions vie for power and influence, the turbulent political landscape has fostered deep polarization and mistrust in traditional institutions and media.

These power struggles are now being fought increasingly on the digital battlegrounds of social media, and populist leaders have proved adept at exploiting platform algorithms to their advantage, drowning out critical voices and consolidating their grip on power.

It takes all of us

Herein lies a sobering reality. Contrary to popular belief, disinformation is not solely the domain of state-sponsored actors or fringe extremists, but also of ordinary people trying to make a living in a challenging digital economy. Understanding this is key to countering disinformation. While the Philippines is described as a ‘petri dish of disinformation tactics’, it’s also a microcosm of a global crisis in which economic pressures, tech impunity and platform dynamics converge to create a potent ecosystem of lies and falsehoods.

As we grapple with these challenges, it’s clear that any solution will need to take a whole-of-society approach to address not only the symptoms of dis-information but its root causes: economic inequality, inadequate digital literacy and the perverse incentives built into the algorithmically-governed public sphere. The fight against disinformation is not just about fact-checking or content moderation, but also creating a more equitable, informed and resilient digital society. As freedom-loving global citizens, we all have a stake in this fight – and the future of our democracy hangs in the balance.

Don Kevin Hapal is the data and innovation director for Rappler, investigating technology, disinformation and propaganda. His work has led to the take-down of disinformation networks in the Philippines.

  1. Warren De Guzman, ‘Exclusive: Twinmark Media earned…’, ABS CBN News, 26 February 2019, a.nin.tl/profits
  2. Camille Elemia and Gelo Gonzales, ‘Stars, influencers get paid…’, Rappler, 27 February 2021, a.nin.tl/celeb
  3. Gelo Gonzales and Paige Occeñola, ‘PH company banned…’, Rappler, 11 January 2019, a.nin.tl/ban
  4. Camille Elemia, ‘Cat-and-mouse game: Twinmark fake network…’, Rappler, 23 December 2020, a.nin.tl/return
  5. Jason Cabañes and Jonathan Corpus Ong, ‘Chief disinformation architects…’, Rappler, 11 February 2018, a.nin.tl/industry
  6. Ailla Dela Cruz, ‘How Maggie Wilson’s…’, Rappler, 4 October 2023, a.nin.tl/target
  7. ‘Political economy of covert…’, Internews report, July 2023, a.nin.tl/election
  8. Merinette Retona, ‘Marcos Jr. benefited…’, Vera Files, 28 December 2021, a.nin.tl/InfluencerEconomy
  9. Paige Occeñola, ‘Exclusive: PH was Cambridge Analytica’s…’, Rappler, 10 September 2019, a.nin.tl/petridish
  10. ‘Digital 2024: The Philippines report’, Data Reportal, 21 February 2024, a.nin.tl/WebUse
  11. ‘Unemployment Rate in March 2024’, Philippine Statistics Authority, 8 May 2024, a.nin.tl/jobless