Czech Healthcare Misinformation Study Reveals Deep Trust Gap and Urgent Need for Digital Health Literacy
PRAGUE – The Central European Digital Media Observatory (CEDMO) has released a major new study on misinformation in the Czech healthcare sector, offering one of the most detailed portraits yet of how ordinary citizens perceive, share and act upon false health information. The report, titled “Misinformation in the Healthcare Sector in Czech Republic: An Analysis of Users’ Perceptions and Behaviour”, comes after years of growing alarm about the impact of online falsehoods on public health. The researchers describe the study as a response to the “infodemic” that accompanied the Covid-19 pandemic, when misleading claims about masks, vaccines, medicines and treatment protocols spread more rapidly than the virus itself. Using a combination of a nationally representative survey, in-depth interviews and focus groups with patients, health professionals and media users, the CEDMO team wanted to move beyond the obvious question of whether misinformation exists. Instead, they asked how people encounter it, how they judge its credibility, and what they actually do with it. The result is a complex portrait of a society that is simultaneously suspicious of official information and strikingly overconfident in its own ability to spot a lie. The study highlights a central paradox: many Czechs say they are well-informed and careful, but only a small minority systematically verify the health information they read or share online. This gap between perception and behaviour, the authors warn, is one of the main reasons why misinformation in healthcare continues to flourish, even in a country with a highly educated population and a well-developed medical system.
At the level of perception, the CEDMO study finds that health misinformation is now widely regarded as a serious social problem. The vast majority of Czech respondents say they have seen false or misleading health information within the past year, and many believe the problem is getting worse. The most frequently mentioned sources include Facebook, YouTube, TikTok, and a host of unregulated websites that imitate the look of reputable health portals. At the same time, the report reveals a clear hierarchy of trust. Doctors, pharmacists, university hospitals and public health institutions remain at the top of the public’s confidence. Official state institutions, however, are viewed with more ambivalence, partly because of the sometimes bureaucratic style of Czech healthcare and partly because of a lingering historical distrust of official state communication. Social media influencers, celebrity-endorsed therapies and self-described alternative health experts are at the bottom of the trust rankings, yet they exert a disproportionate influence because the boundary between genuine information and commercial marketing is often blurred. The researchers note that many people do not consciously reject science; instead, they rely on a logic of personal experience. A relative who claims to have been healed by a herbal tincture, a colleague who blames a vaccine for a chronic complaint, or an emotional online testimonial from a cancer survivor who rejected chemotherapy can carry more weight than abstract statistical evidence. The authors call this “experiential bias” and argue that it makes individuals especially vulnerable when they are dealing with fear, chronic illness, or the illness of a loved one. The study also found that perceptions of credibility are heavily shaped by visual cues: clean design, official-looking logos, confident tone and professional production values can make misinformation appear more trustworthy than the plain, cautious pages produced by many public health authorities. In another important paradox, many respondents express deep concern about misinformation in general, but believe that they personally are not likely to be deceived. This “third-person effect” weakens the motivation to learn verification skills and leaves users more exposed than they realise.
The report identifies several demographic, social and psychological factors that increase vulnerability to health misinformation. Older people, those with lower levels of formal education, residents of smaller communities, and respondents who describe their own health as poor are more likely to believe and forward false medical claims. Financial insecurity also plays a role: people with low incomes are attracted to promises of cheap or miracle remedies, especially in a healthcare system where many citizens feel that dental care, mental health services and some medicines are expensive and difficult to access. The study describes the most widespread categories of health misinformation in the Czech environment: false claims about cancer prevention and “miracle cures,” anti-vaccination narratives, nutritional myths, misinformation about prescription drugs, and conspiracy theories about large pharmaceutical companies. A particularly pervasive category is the “natural is safe” fallacy – the belief that anything labelled herbal, organic, homeopathic or traditional is inherently harmless and therefore preferable to products produced by the pharmaceutical industry. This belief is often reinforced by celebrities and wellness influencers who sell supplements alongside their advice. The report also documents misinformation about the healthcare system itself, such as allegations that hospitals deliberately exaggerate diagnoses for financial gain, that health insurers secretly control the treatment options of doctors, or that medical associations hide effective cheap cures from the public. These claims are especially damaging because they corrode trust in the entire healthcare sector, not just in one treatment or vaccine. The study stresses that there is no single demographic profile of a “disinformation spreader.” Many respondents who shared false content during the pandemic did so out of a desire to protect family members; they genuinely believed the information was accurate. This finding shifts attention away from individual irrationality and toward the social mechanics of sharing. Misinformation travels fastest when it triggers strong emotions – fear, anger, hope, or a sense of injustice. In healthcare, hope is a particularly dangerous emotion, as it can lead people to accept claims that contradict overwhelming medical evidence, simply because the promise of a cure is comforting.
The heart of the CEDMO study is its analysis of user behaviour. It shows that the path from seeing a false post to acting on it is rarely straightforward, but several common patterns emerge. First, many people do not actively search for health information; they encounter it passively while scrolling through social media, often in the form of sponsored posts, memes, personal stories or short videos recommended by algorithms. At that moment of passive exposure, they tend to judge a message by its emotional appeal or by the identity of the person who shared it, rather than by its original source. If the message arrives from a trusted friend, a family member or a well-known public figure, it is very often accepted without further scrutiny. Second, only a minority of users verify health information before passing it on. Some attempt to check it through an internet search, but this frequently leads to confirmation bias, because search engines and social platforms tend to show content that matches the user’s pre-existing beliefs. Very few respondents said they consult the websites of the State Institute for Drug Control, the Czech Health Ministry, or established medical fact-checking platforms. Third, the behavioural consequences of misinformation are real and sometimes dangerous. The survey recorded cases in which respondents refused a medically recommended vaccination, stopped taking prescribed medication, tried unverified alternative treatments, or delayed seeing a doctor because of information they had encountered online. The report also points to the economic damage caused by false health content: people spend significant sums on useless dietary supplements, bogus diagnostic tests and overpriced “miracle” products sold through anonymous e-shops. Perhaps the most striking finding is the gap between what people say they believe and how they actually behave. Even respondents who said they strongly distrust social media still continued to use it as their main source of health information. And many who recognised that a particular piece of content was false did not correct others or report the post. When asked why, they explained that it was not their responsibility, or that they did not wish to argue with relatives. This silence allows misinformation to appear widely accepted, especially within tightly knit family and community groups. The researchers emphasise a moral dimension: sharing health advice can be an act of care, while correcting someone else’s health belief can feel hostile and invasive. For this reason, misinformation in the healthcare sector is even more difficult to combat than political disinformation, because it penetrates the most intimate spheres of human life.
For policymakers, healthcare professionals and communication experts, the CEDMO study offers a clear set of lessons. The first is that debunking alone is not enough. The authors recommend a shift toward “prebunking” – teaching people to recognise manipulative argumentation techniques before they encounter false content. This can be done through health literacy programmes in schools, public awareness campaigns, and direct involvement of doctors and nurses in community education. Second, the healthcare system itself needs to become more proactive and more human. Physicians should be trained in empathic communication with patients who have absorbed misleading claims. Dismissing them as stupid or uneducated only deepens their distrust. The report suggests that clinical encounters should include simple, non-patronising conversations about where patients find health information and why a particular source may be unreliable. Third, digital platforms have a responsibility to reduce the algorithmic amplification of health misinformation. The Czech Republic cannot rewrite the algorithms of global tech companies on its own, but the state can demand greater transparency and collaborate with platforms to make verified health information clearly visible. The report recommends that public health institutions create more appealing digital content – short videos, infographics, question-and-answer sessions with doctors – so that reliable information can compete with entertainment-driven misinformation. Fourth, media literacy should be embedded in healthcare policy. The Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Education should work together to train journalists, public librarians and teachers in how to detect and avoid spreading false health claims. The researchers also call for stronger cooperation between fact-checkers, medical institutions and civil society groups. CEDMO, which operates as a cross-border observatory with partners in the Czech Republic, Poland and Slovakia, argues that such international cooperation is necessary because many health misinformation campaigns are organised across countries and use identical narratives in several languages. Finally, the report warns against placing the entire burden on individuals. It is unfair, the authors argue, to blame patients for their vulnerability when they are systematically targeted by sophisticated manipulation, funded by actors who profit from pseudoscience, clickbait or political polarisation. The problem is embedded in the information environment itself, where the business model of social media rewards outrage, and health misinformation is one of the most reliable ways to provoke it.
In the end, the CEDMO study is both a diagnosis and a warning. It diagnoses an information landscape in which trust is unevenly distributed, verification skills are underdeveloped, and false health content is deeply woven into the routines of online life. It warns that if the Czech Republic does not act decisively, the consequences will become far more expensive than prevention: more vaccine-preventable outbreaks, more antibiotic resistance, more avoidable deaths, and a healthcare system overwhelmed by patients whose conditions have worsened because they were persuaded to reject evidence-based medicine. Yet the authors do not believe the situation is hopeless. They point to encouraging signs: Czech citizens retain strong confidence in their doctors, and many respondents in the study said they want to learn how to evaluate health information more effectively. This openness is the foundation on which a sensible national strategy can be built. But the strategy will require investment, political will and patience. It will require a public communication system that treats misinformation not as a temporary nuisance but as an ongoing environmental threat that must be continually monitored and cleaned. It will require teachers who are equipped to discuss propaganda and manipulation in the classroom, and physicians who are willing to ask their patients a simple question: “Where did you read that?” The report reminds the public that fighting misinformation is not a war on personal beliefs; it is a defence of the right of every person to make health decisions on the basis of honest and accurate information. As the CEDMO researchers put it, the best antidote to a bad story is not another story, but a healthcare system that is transparent, reliable, respectful and close to the people. In a country that has lived through decades of political propaganda and now faces the chaos of a digital Wild West, the path forward is clear: build trust through action, not only through proclamation. Only then will Czech patients feel safe enough to put their faith in medicine, rather than in the seductive promises of false healers.