Paris, November 13, 2015. A European capital is struck cruelly by fundamentalists who justify their crimes in the name of something sacred—an event that shocked the entire world. It was neither the first nor, unfortunately, the last tragedy whose impact on the public has become a subject of analysis.
Before the arrival of cable television in the early 1990s, Romanian communities—especially in rural areas—lived lives shaped by firsthand experiences. For most people, those direct experiences did not inspire fear, outrage, or terror. As a result, they slept with their doors unlocked unless there was a known threat in the community.
The liberalisation of the information market came at a cost: we now know more, and that knowledge shapes how we relate to one another. It makes us suffer—or fear. After the introduction of cable TV and, in particular, the “5 o’clock news,” people began installing bars on their windows.
Today, Facebook, X, and other social networks connect us within seconds to the suffering of people caught in dramatic or tragic events. The way these media channels transmit emotion and influence our lives is unprecedented in this technological age of communication.
The virtual world has become an integral part of the real one. On Facebook, people express passionate opinions about terrorism or the migrant crisis, even though, in most cases, they have never met a terrorist or a refugee. The reason is simple: almost everything unfolds before our eyes, on our phone or computer screens. We feel, react, and judge alongside others to whom we are virtually connected.
The opinions voiced online are often emotional and impulsive. After the terrorist attacks in Paris, people around the world mobilised to help through prayer. Those nearby used Facebook to announce they would open their homes to anyone in need of safety. Emotion spreads as easily as opinion. In such moments, journalistic or scientific rigor is no longer the point. We are talking about effect—the ability to provoke emotion, to create sensation, and perhaps even to convey authenticity.
In another major topic back in 2015, it became clear that Romanians’ perception of the refugees expected to arrive in the country was deeply distorted compared to reality. Followers of ultranationalist Facebook pages suddenly saw refugees as dangerous fundamentalists coming to kill us. Those who followed left-leaning sources, on the other hand, tended to see them mainly as hungry, poor, and sick women and children. As always, the truth was far more complex.
Yes, refugees have mobile phones and may wear clean, decent clothes—but that doesn’t mean their streets back home aren’t stained with blood, or that staying there wouldn’t mean living every day in fear for their lives. And yes, it’s possible that among them are a few Islamic fundamentalists.
What’s really happening is that we work with the information available to us—information we often take uncritically from our Facebook feeds, where viral posts spread fastest. It’s easy to believe what you see when hundreds of thousands or even millions of people like you have liked the same article or video. Facebook and X use information as currency, and whether we like it or not, both platforms grow and evolve alongside the societies we live in. Television, meanwhile, is forced either to adapt—or to continue fading in the eyes of the public.
According to the two-step flow theory of communication, formulated by Paul Lazarsfeld in the 1940s, social groups—or circles—hold significant power in shaping communication and influence. A message received from a trusted communicator—whether a public figure one follows or a close acquaintance—is far more likely to be shared within one’s social circle than a message coming from unfamiliar sources.
That’s why, especially when it comes to sensitive topics such as the refugee crisis or terrorist attacks, it’s crucial to be mindful of which communicators we choose to trust and whose viewpoints we decide to share. There’s always a risk of adopting harmful ideas and hurting those around us. This is why, back in 2015, Barack Obama called for tolerance, emphasising that the fight is against terrorism, not against people. “Freedom is stronger than fear,” he said. “Our success won’t depend on tough talk, or abandoning our values, or giving into fear.”
This doesn’t mean we should ignore legitimate reasons for concern; it means we should remain aware of how difficult it can be to maintain balance, especially when dealing with acts of terror. Balance and moderation mean that, in times of tragedy—when we are already struggling to understand the bigger picture—our first “online imprint” should be one of humanity, as many internet users fortunately chose to demonstrate after the Paris attacks in 2015. Dozens of people used the hashtags #PorteOuverte and #PrayforParis to offer help and express solidarity with those who, through no fault of their own, found themselves caught in a conflict that was not theirs.
When it comes to understanding reality, moderation remains essential. Careful filtering of facts and information is key to forming an accurate picture of the world around us.
Ten years after the Paris attacks, the world doesn’t seem all that different. The year 2015 was marked by armed conflict, tensions among the world’s major powers, terrorist attacks, and the refugee crisis—all of which inevitably cause concern.
As we try to determine how to respond to such events, we can easily fall into the trap of manipulation—intentional or not—along with hatred and ignorance. Or we can choose to stay on the middle path. It’s healthy to care, to form and express opinions, but rather than giving in to fear, it’s more important to seek solutions in a spirit of tolerance and informed understanding.
Genuine awareness means consulting multiple sources, comparing them, and critically filtering the available information. Thousands of likes are not the best compass for anyone searching for the truth.