In those terrifying early moments of last week's Los Angeles-area wildfires, I obsessively switched from one local station to another to get complete coverage. ABC 7, KTLA, KCAL (also on CBS 2), NBC 4, Fox 11... they are all on the front lines, sharing valuable information while documenting shocking images of our communities under siege.
When I have to be in the car, I'm locked into KNX NewsRadio, while also checking LAist 89.3 and KCRW. When I need some instant information like you all do, I download the Watch Duty app. I'm texting the news with friends and then checking our own messages type Workspace on Slack to see how my colleagues are doing.
But I'm too lazy to look for legitimate information on Twitter/X, or really any common social media site. Of course, I still visited these sites briefly and proudly share links to some type Stories we work hard to write amid the chaos. But a few years ago, I would have been posting on Twitter day and night while scrolling endlessly for any news.
However, this feels like a completely different era of social media. As twitter (oh sorry, I mean Last week, I had no interest in picking it up again. Until a user on Bluesky retweeted my story about local TV and said:
“The fires show how important local journalism is,” wrote @kristapor80.bsky.social. "Twitter used to be great for emergency reporting, but with the fires, it was more concerned with debating DEI than helping provide valuable information. Bluesky wasn't up to the task of breaking out of local coverage. Local stations stepped up their efforts."
In a nutshell, that's it. I remember the early days of Twitter, when it was a really useful resource for understanding what was happening globally and locally in real time. In Los Angeles, every time we feel an earthquake, we go straight to Twitter and can quickly tell if it's an earthquake or a heavy truck driving down our streets.
Perhaps most notably, the 2013 Boston bombings were a landmark moment when people began to describe Twitter as the "new public square." Instant photos and visuals of the attacks helped people quickly understand what was happening, while authorities used the platform to spread safety warnings.
It’s 2025, and now our social media leaders are moving away from fact-checking and their creations are filled with lies, fake photos, and outright fabrications. I don't go to X for news because I know I won't find it there, buried among MAGA propaganda, hate speech, and accounts I don't follow but are now clogging my feed. And then there are all the AI-generated lies, like the much-shared photo of Hollywood marking the fire, but we all know that didn’t happen. But I'm sure there are a lot of people across the country who saw that fake photo and thought it was real.
Mark Zuckerberg announced his withdrawal from the fact-checking business at this time, allowing more lies to spread unchecked. However, I must admit that in the days that followed, Meta's Instagram at least became a place for Los Angeles residents to share how to support people who lost their homes and where to donate. Local businesses are using the platform to let residents know where those most affected can get a free meal, a bag of toiletries, or even where to spend an afternoon taking a mental health break like LACMA or Vidiots Decompress and watch a movie or admire some art.
From a social perspective, this is useful information. But for real, journalistic concrete news about the fires and their aftermath, this week was another reminder of the importance of local media and what we lose when newspapers and TV stations downsize or even close.
Local TV news is often derided for being too focused on low-hanging fruit such as murders, car chases and fires—sometimes justifiably so. It takes a lot of effort and years of resource building to solve the labyrinthine bureaucratic conundrum of a city hall or school district; it's much easier to shine a helicopter camera on a speeding vehicle and let it rip apart.
But local TV can still shine, and with disasters like the Los Angeles fires, information is key — but so can a little humanity in it all. As I wrote in an article last week, this is personal for many reporters as they cover evacuations and fires in their own communities. Yet they worked 15 hours a day to cover this story, often dangerously close to the flames, to keep us all informed of what was happening. Some even put down their cameras to help when they saw fellow Angelenos in trouble.
“In times like this, we consider ourselves emergency responders,” KABC President and General Manager Wendy Granato recently told me. "If we don't go in and tell people what's going on, who will? That's the definition of local news and local journalism, especially when lives are at risk and information is critical. I'm always excited about what we do Things feel positive, but in times like this, I hope the public will once again recognize how hard we work, how hard we work, how much we care, and how much we are needed.
Local news outlets are there to cover important press conferences, share details about which specific communities are affected by the fires, and let us know about weather patterns and what to expect from Santa Ana winds. They were there to explain what was going on with the confusing evacuation warnings that were being issued. They walked us through the confusing details of insurance and rebuilding what would happen next.
Perhaps more importantly, they have begun fact-checking all the disgusting, vicious lies being spread on social media and right-wing networks like Fox News. Let’s think again: Just when we need the truth more than ever, Facebook and its ilk have decided to hand the keys over to propagandists.
As we enter a new presidential administration that seems to enjoy using social media to spread distortions and fabrications, I worry for all those who have been indoctrinated by these malign actors. The Los Angeles fires remind us more than ever why we need a vibrant news framework across broadcast, print and online. Because the once hopeful public square of social media has turned into a social media public hell.