When Influence Turns Dangerous: The Real-World Fallout of Viral Lies and Vanished Posts

The internet has become the new courtroom of public opinion — where truth, lies, and reputation collide in real time. One viral tweet can define a life before breakfast, and one “delete” button can rewrite history by lunch. Every day, influencers and commentators shape narratives that spill far beyond the screen. But when that influence crosses into misinformation, prejudice, or outright defamation — and then disappears without accountability — we’re not talking about entertainment anymore. We’re talking about real people, real harm, and real consequences.

Social media was once marketed as a tool for connection and empowerment. Now, it’s a weapon often used to distort truth and manipulate perception. From political disinformation to targeted harassment, online influence can drive entire movements — for better or worse. What makes this moment especially dangerous is the illusion of impermanence. When a controversial figure deletes a post after it goes viral, it doesn’t erase the damage done; it merely hides the fingerprints.

We live in an era where the delete button has become a shield for the powerful. Influencers with millions of followers can ignite outrage, ruin reputations, or endanger lives, only to erase their digital trail hours later. And platforms — motivated by profit, engagement metrics, and politics — often enable that cycle.The question isn’t just what was said; it’s who gets to forget.

That’s the world we’re examining today: how major online figures like Matt Wallace and others have turned misinformation into a form of influence, exploiting the short memory of social media for clout — and how their actions ripple through real people’s lives.

Matt Wallace and the Weaponization of “Breaking News”

Matt Wallace isn’t a small creator. With millions of followers across X (formerly Twitter) and YouTube, his words reach audiences in seconds. But on January 29, 2025, he didn’t just go viral — he went too far.

After a devastating midair collision near Washington, D.C. killed 67 people, Wallace published a series of posts falsely identifying Jo Ellis, a transgender U.S. Army pilot, as the one responsible for the crash. He labeled it a “trans terror attack,” implying political motive and feeding into a long-running campaign of anti-trans disinformation. Within hours, the lie spread across social media, amplified by accounts with similar political leanings. Thousands believed it. Thousands attacked her online. And Jo Ellis — who had no connection to the crash — became a target of threats, doxxing, and fear.

When journalists and investigators began debunking his claims, Wallace quietly deleted his posts. Later, he claimed he was only “reporting what others were saying.” That small act of deletion became a massive act of erasure. No retraction, no apology, no correction that matched the scale of the damage. Just gone.

Ellis, however, refused to vanish with the lie. She filed a defamation lawsuit, alleging that Wallace deliberately “exploited tragedy for clicks and money.” Her statement, which resonated with thousands of marginalized people online, was simple: “You can’t delete what you’ve done to someone’s life.”

This case isn’t just about one influencer and one victim. It’s a symptom of a system that rewards outrage over accuracy and drama over dignity.

The Human Cost of Going Viral

What happened to Jo Ellis isn’t theoretical — it’s personal.She was forced to hire private security. She received death threats. She lived in fear that someone would confront her based on lies spread by people she’d never met. She became, unwillingly, a public figure in a hate-fueled media storm.

Researchers at the Pew Research Center report that 41% of American adults have faced some form of online harassment, with rates nearly doubling for women, LGBTQ+ individuals, and people of color. Studies by the University of Massachusetts Amherst (2024) found that false or misleading viral posts targeting marginalized people can lead to offline harassment within 24 to 72 hours of going viral.

When misinformation collides with bias, the results are catastrophic. In Jo Ellis’s case, one influencer’s recklessness transformed grief into hate.

Deletion as a Strategy — Not an Apology

Deleting content after causing harm isn’t accountability — it’s strategy.Influencers have learned how to weaponize ephemerality: say something outrageous, farm engagement, then erase it before platforms, advertisers, or courts can act. The damage remains, but the evidence disappears.

This is not accidental.

• Algorithms reward controversy. A post that provokes anger spreads faster than a factual correction.

• Deletion prevents moderation. If a post disappears before it’s reported, it avoids permanent strikes.

• Public memory fades fast. By the time a fact-check drops, the audience has already moved on to the next viral moment.

Researchers at Harvard’s Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society have called this “selective accountability” — a form of digital gaslighting that allows public figures to claim, “I never said that,” even when millions saw it.

Nick Fuentes and the Infrastructure of Influence

Matt Wallace may embody recklessness, but figures like Nick Fuentes represent the ideology behind it.Fuentes, a far-right commentator and self-described Christian nationalist, has long used social media to spread white supremacist and misogynistic content — then rebrand, reappear, and repeat after bans or deletions. Despite multiple deplatformings for hate speech, his network of supporters ensures that his ideas never fully disappear.

A 2024 report by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD) found that Fuentes’ online ecosystem — known as the “Groyper movement” — used reposting networks and anonymous backup accounts to evade moderation and maintain audience reach, even when his primary profiles were removed.

His influence strategy mirrors Wallace’s in one key way: both rely on provocation, deletion, and plausible deniability. They provoke outrage to fuel engagement. They delete content when called out. And they claim misrepresentation when accountability arrives.

This model isn’t limited to politics — it’s cultural, financial, and psychological. It’s the same model driving influencer scandals, disinformation campaigns, and coordinated harassment efforts.It’s the monetization of chaos.

The Data: Misinformation Has Real-World Victims

• The Anti-Defamation League (2025) estimates that one in three Americans have been exposed to targeted disinformation campaigns related to race, gender, or sexuality.

• According to Stanford Internet Observatory, misinformation posts are four times more likely to be shared than factual corrections.

• Reuters Institute (2024) found that 63% of people admit they’ve shared information online without verifying it first.

• And a 2025 Brookings Institution study revealed that post-deletion cycles — where content is posted, goes viral, then vanishes — are now a recognized tactic in political manipulation, dubbed the “Viral Vanish Effect.”

Translation: the more something is deleted, the harder it is to trace — and the easier it is to deny.

The Broader Implications: Speech Without Consequence

Freedom of speech is not freedom from consequence.We cannot allow public figures to profit from disinformation while hiding behind the mechanics of deletion. Social platforms must rethink their algorithms and preservation policies. Defamation law must evolve to address the velocity and impermanence of digital harm. And as everyday users, we must demand accountability before clicks.

This isn’t about silencing opinions. It’s about responsibility — the responsibility to speak truth without exploiting tragedy, to report news without inventing villains, and to understand that our digital footprints have real-world shadows.

Remember, Don’t Delete

As I often say, Shalena Speaks is not here for clicks it’s here for clarity. This isn’t tea. This is truth. And the truth is, when influence turns reckless, it’s not just reputations at stake — it’s democracy, empathy, and human safety.

So before you share that “breaking” post, before you quote that influencer, before you join that outrage thread pause. Ask who benefits. Ask what happens if it’s wrong. And most importantly, ask whether the person they’re targeting will still be standing when the timeline moves on.

Because when influencers delete their lies, it’s up to us the readers, the thinkers, the ones who remember to keep the record alive.

Sources

1. The Washington Post, “Trans pilot sues right-wing influencer who falsely blamed her for D.C. crash,” April 2025.

2. The Guardian, “Transgender pilot sues influencer after false accusations following fatal crash,” April 2025.

3. Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD), “A Groyper War: Struggles to Exert Influence,” 2024.

4. Pew Research Center, “The State of Online Harassment,” 2024.

5. Harvard Berkman Klein Center, “Selective Accountability and Digital Deletion,” 2024.

6. Anti-Defamation League, “Digital Hate Index Report,” 2025.

7. Reuters Institute Digital News Report, 2024.

8. Brookings Institution, “The Viral Vanish Effect: Post Deletion as a Tool of Influence,” 2025.

9. Stanford Internet Observatory, “How Falsehoods Spread Faster Than Truth,” 2024.

10. University of Massachusetts Amherst, “The Real-World Consequences of Digital Defamation,” 2024.