Summative Free Inquiry Project

Today, I’m diving into a question that shaped my entire free inquiry project this term.
How does online news coverage influence what people learn, and ultimately believe, about pandemics and vaccines?
Over the past few weeks I have been researching everything from digital health literacy to parent vaccine decision making to what actually comes up when you Google “Should I get vaccinated?” Spoiler: it is not what you might assume.
I will also share some stories from my volunteer experience in a children’s vaccine clinic because seeing real parents make real decisions brings all this theory to life.

Let’s start with a big idea. Digital health literacy refers to how well someone can find, understand, and use health information online. In the age of TikTok epidemiologists and Facebook aunties, this skill has never been more important.
Vaccines save somewhere between 3.5 and 5 million lives every year according to the World Health Organization. They remain one of the most effective public health tools available. Despite this, vaccine hesitancy is still widespread, and the internet plays a major role in shaping it.
Research has tried to untangle the relationship between digital health literacy and vaccine acceptance. Ashfield et al. (2024) found that parents with higher digital health literacy were more likely to accept vaccines. Yet 60 percent of Canadians do not have the health literacy skills needed to make fully informed decisions.
Other researchers found similar results. Zhang et al. (2023) reported that better digital health literacy was linked with lower hesitancy.
But not all studies agree. Torun et al. (2025) found that improving digital health literacy can increase vaccine hesitancy because parents become more exposed to misinformation. Aharony and Goldman (2017) found that parents with the highest levels of digital health literacy were sometimes the most skeptical, especially those with strong critical analysis skills.
Digital health literacy cuts both ways. Being good at finding information online does not guarantee that the information is credible. It also does not protect someone from being influenced by emotional stories or persuasive misinformation.
This is where trust becomes the real deciding factor.

So where do parents actually get their information about vaccines?
The research is clear. Healthcare providers remain the most trusted source. One study found that 86 percent of parents consider doctors and nurses important sources of vaccine information.
But trust in medical institutions is not universal. When parents lose confidence in the healthcare system, they turn elsewhere.
And “elsewhere” usually means Google, Instagram, TikTok, parent forums, alternative health influencers, and sometimes anti vaccine organizations disguised as neutral websites.
A 2012 study found that parents who search for vaccine information online tend to be younger, more educated, and more skeptical. In the Web 2.0 era, this has only intensified. Online communities create echo chambers where misinformation spreads quickly.
This led me to run a simple experiment of my own.

For my project, I Googled the question that thousands of people type every day.
“Should I get vaccinated?”
I expected a mix of supportive and skeptical content. What I found surprised me.
The entire first page of Google was pro vaccination. All six top links came from reputable, government level organizations including the National Foundation for Infectious Diseases, the Mayo Clinic, and the Government of Canada.
Most websites emphasized evidence based benefits, risks, and recommendations. The Mayo Clinic even broke down adult vaccination by lifestyle, travel, and occupation.
It made me realize something important. If you stay on the first page of Google, the information is usually reliable.
But once you scroll further or switch to social media, everything changes.

Anti vaccine content is difficult to find on Google, but it is extremely easy to find on TikTok or Instagram.
You will find dramatic vaccine injury stories, religious arguments, political claims, and posts linking vaccines to autism or infertility. Websites such as Vaccine Choice Canada and OpenVAERS use emotionally charged stories and misleading statistics to appear legitimate.
OpenVAERS, for example, pulls unverified reports from the U.S. Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System and presents them as confirmed vaccine injuries. There is no context, no explanation, only frightening charts.
When someone with low digital health literacy encounters that type of content, it can be highly persuasive.
This is why digital health literacy is not a simple solution. It helps people find information, but not necessarily accurate information.

One of the most meaningful parts of this project has been my volunteer experience at a children’s vaccine clinic in Victoria.
I check in families, weigh babies, and help with forms, but what I really observe is decision making.
Most parents arrive confident and ready to vaccinate. Their information comes from nurses, and their trust in the medical system is strong.
Others arrive anxious. They have seen things online or watched TikToks. Some bring printed screenshots of posts and ask, “Is this true?” or “Should I be worried?”
The nurses calmly explain what is real, what is exaggerated, and what the actual risks are. They use clear language, reassurance, and evidence.
What I have learned is that trust matters more than almost anything else. If parents trust the nurse in front of them, they vaccinate. If they do not trust that nurse, they trust the internet instead.

On March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization officially declared COVID 19 a pandemic. With a single announcement, the world changed.
News outlets quickly released headlines such as “UK deaths rise as shutdowns begin,” “Painful weeks ahead,” and “At war with no ammo.”
These headlines shaped emotions as much as they reported facts. Research shows that fear based headlines increase perceived risk but can reduce preventative behavior when people become overwhelmed.
Tom Hanks’ announcement that he had COVID 19 also went viral. Because he is widely trusted, his message made the virus feel personal and real.
This demonstrates how digital narratives, whether from health authorities or celebrities, influence not just what we know but how we feel and act.

Early pandemic coverage was chaotic and fear driven. Within weeks, the tone shifted toward prevention.
The “flatten the curve” graphic became globally recognizable and demonstrated effective, empathetic science communication.
Then came community focused narratives such as frontline worker stories and mutual aid efforts.
Eventually, media fatigue set in. Coverage declined even as cases rose. Many people became exhausted and less willing to follow restrictions.
The news cycle did not just reflect the pandemic. It shaped it.

Here are five quick tips to help you navigate online health information.
Check who wrote it. Government, hospital, and university sources are the safest options.
Look for evidence, not personal stories. Emotional anecdotes are compelling but not scientific.
Watch for emotionally charged language. If something tries to scare you, be cautious.
Verify before you share. This prevents misinformation from spreading.
Ask a healthcare provider. Human expertise is more reliable than algorithms.

Digital health literacy is not just about searching the internet. It is about navigating a noisy world filled with conflicting voices, emotional headlines, and persuasive misinformation.
Online news coverage can mobilize communities or overwhelm them. It can encourage vaccination or undermine trust.
Ultimately, how we interpret information depends on our skills, our emotions, and the people we trust.
Thanks for tuning in. If you found this episode helpful, share it with a friend or continue the conversation with me. Stay curious, stay critical, and stay informed.