Mughalu
CTC, Aolijen
The recent revelation that a Naga youth falsely claimed to have sent approximately Rs 65,000 worth of Domino's pizzas to Jantar Mantar is disappointing—not simply because the claim turned out to be fabricated, but because it reveals a deeper crisis emerging within our digital culture. The incident is less about one individual's dishonesty and more about the kind of media environment that increasingly rewards attention over truth.
For generations, we Nagas have never been known as scammers. Our communities have largely been built upon trust, honesty, and accountability. While no society is immune to deception, fabricating stories merely to gain public attention has never been part of our cultural identity. That is why incidents like this deserve serious reflection. They are not isolated acts; they are symptoms of a changing communication environment.
Media scholar Marshall McLuhan famously argued that "the medium is the message." His point was that every communication technology reshapes human behaviour. Social media has created an environment where visibility has become a form of social currency. Success is increasingly measured not by character or contribution but by views, shares, likes, and comments. In such an environment, some people begin to believe that the fastest way to recognition is through sensational claims rather than genuine achievements.
Perhaps it is time we acknowledge that clickbait culture is no longer merely a media problem; it is becoming a social problem. Like other forms of addiction, the pursuit of online attention can gradually alter behaviour. The constant desire for notifications, viral posts, and public validation creates psychological dependency. While this is obviously different from alcohol or drug addiction, both operate on a similar principle—they stimulate reward systems that encourage repeated behaviour. When truth no longer attracts attention, the temptation to manufacture stories becomes increasingly strong.
Before rushing to condemn the young man, we must also ask whether our society has adequately prepared its youth for the digital world. Many social media users, including educated ones, do not understand how algorithms operate. They are unaware that platforms reward emotionally charged content, controversy, and sensationalism because these generate engagement. In media ecology, this is precisely how environments shape human behaviour. The platform quietly teaches users what kind of content gets rewarded, and many begin adapting themselves accordingly, often without realizing it.
This incident also presents an unfortunate contrast. At a time when many Naga youths are courageously speaking against corruption, unemployment, and governance failures despite enormous challenges, another segment appears more interested in chasing temporary online fame. The issue is not merely about one fabricated pizza donation. It reflects a generation that has inherited smartphones without necessarily receiving digital wisdom. Internet access has expanded rapidly, but media literacy has not kept pace.
The lesson, therefore, extends beyond one individual. Schools, churches, families, and civil society must begin treating digital literacy as an essential life skill. Young people need to understand the dynamics of algorithms, virality, digital footprints, and online ethics. Without such understanding, we will continue witnessing similar incidents—not because Nagas have suddenly become dishonest, but because many users have unknowingly become products of a media environment that rewards performance over integrity.
The pizza story will soon disappear from our newsfeeds, replaced by the next trending topic. What must not disappear is the conversation it has started. If we wish to preserve the values for which Nagas have long been respected, we must ensure that truth remains more valuable than virality and integrity more desirable than internet fame.
