I don’t know who’s telling the truth about the Liberal refugee plan.

On the one hand, there’s Paul McLeod, BuzzFeed‘s political editor, who published an article on November 25, 2015, titled “Someone Gave The Media A Bunch Of False Info About Canada’s Syrian Refugee Plan.” McLeod takes issue with a CBC report by Rosemary Barton that, days before the Liberals revealed their official refugee plan, stated “unaccompanied men seeking asylum will not be part of the (refugee) program.”

McLeod quotes an anonymous senior Liberal member who “said they don’t know where the information came from, but they suspect it was from someone who did not have their best interests at heart. In other words, someone trying to screw them.”

There’s one word being interpreted and responded to differently in the Liberal government’s Syrian refugee plan: “prioritize.”

Other reports also counter the CBC reports on the claim to exclude single male Syrian refugees. As a Vice article states:

Initial reports had suggested that the government would not be allowing in any unattached single men in under the program, unless they are a sexual minority.

Government officials confirmed Tuesday that wouldn’t be the case. While the government will “prioritize” families, women at risk, LGBTQ minorities, and those who are accompanying elderly parents, it will not be disqualifying any would-be refugee on the basis of gender.

The Toronto Star also made this clear: “Officials say [the plan] does not preclude men — including gay men and single men accompanying their parents — from admission.”

Leigh Stein’s boyfriend Jason threw her against the refrigerator and didn’t believe she was hurt until she showed him the bruises. They had moved to New Mexico together so she could write her book while he worked—it was the most romantic plan she had ever heard. She recounted her relationship in a BuzzFeed story about how she investigated Jason’s arrest for a stabbing incident 11 days before his death in a motorcycle accident. “I thought I’d be able to draw a clear, straight line between our visit, his crime and the accident,” she wrote, “and then the story of our lives together would finally make sense.” In the comments section, many women shared their own stories of abuse.

Stein’s story is evidence that personal journalism, which is increasingly accessible online, allows writers to explore important topics such as mental health and domestic violence in a way that has a powerful effect on readers. They’re like getting hooked on someone else’s pain. While critics of first-person narratives say they are self-indulgent and get published only when they tell a painful story, the articles resonate with readers.

Personal journalism has always been around, says BuzzFeed Canada’s Lauren Strapagiel, but the difference now is that there is so much more content out there—people can always find an experience that speaks to them. “People are going to ask for it and go looking for it, and people are going to write to meet that need.”

In an August Vice story about surviving Hurricane Katrina and living with the guilt, Megan Koester took readers through her evacuation to the present, describing how lucky she is compared to those who didn’t escape. A January piece on The Huffington Post blog by Abby King was written in the form of an apology to her children for divorcing their father: “I will forever feel guilty that we broke your home and world apart.”

These articles give readers going through the same experiences validation by showing that other people feel the same way. “On a fundamental level, we connect with stories that have a strong human component,” says Craig Silverman, Buzzfeed Canada’s editor. “From a strategic perspective, first-person stories can do well online—people share them if it’s an experience that they can relate to.”

The Huffington Post opened a Canadian office in 2011, and blog, which publishes many first-person pieces, now has 5,000 contributors. Blogs editor Sadiya Ansari says the posts contribute to the public conversation from the perspective of an individual. Although personal narratives are found most notably on the Living and Parents pages, they are in every section—even on the Business page. A tale of a woman’s miscarriage on Huffpost Parents attracted a lot of readers, and Ansari can see why: “It’s very powerful in first person because it wasn’t about what miscarriage looks like from the outside.”

But some people see these pieces as self-indulgent and an easy out for writers. Janice Tibbetts, a journalism instructor at Carleton University, says she has nothing against first-person narratives and doesn’t call herself a critic of them, but doesn’t see much growth in them for a journalist. “It’s the kind of thing I don’t see as a skill that takes a lot of time to develop.” This is the main reason she doesn’t allow her first-year students to use the first person. Writing about yourself can simply be “the path of least resistance.”

In an article attacking first-person journalism in September, Laura Bennett, a senior editor at Slate, argued that websites such as xoJane, Buzzfeed Ideas and Gawker are turning any thought or experience a writer has into a meaningless article. But, she noted, personal stories are often the only way for young journalists to get a response from publications. And the ones that gain traction are those that describe something terrible that a writer had to go through.

For freelance journalists, the personal essay is a quick way to make some cash—no research or fact-checking required. Writers who can’t afford to spend much time on each of their stories in order to make enough money to survive know they need to give a good pitch or they won’t be published. The stories that grab attention are ones about sad and painful events. Bennett quoted Jia Tolentino, Jezebel’s features editor, who says, “Writers feel like the best thing they have to offer is the worst thing that ever happened to them.”

Meanwhile, Hamilton Nolan, who wrote “The ‘Writing About Yourself’ Trap” on Gawker, wants journalists to remember that getting published doesn’t have to mean writing “sexy, salacious, crazy, wild, demeaning, shocking, depressing or self-glorifying stories.”

Despite the critics, websites find value in these stories, under the right circumstances. Souzan Michael, associate digital editor of Fashion Magazine’s online site, says she carefully decides when a first-person story will speak to a topic better than it can be told otherwise. She wants stories that are true and relatable, which can only be done “by being yourself.”

After all, first-person narratives use something we do all the time—storytelling about ourselves—to explore difficult and uncomfortable subjects. Good journalism, in other words.

Almost everything exciting for journalists starts with an information leak. An off-the-record tip from an inside source. A comment overheard in what the speaker thought was a private conversation. An unverified claim made by a whistleblower. Right away, it’s the journalist’s job to prove that rumour true.

Often we’re incapable of proving these rumours, at least at the moment. For each Rob Ford crack scandal, Kevin Donovan must have a dozen half-stories lying dormant. When a video could end a mayor’s tenure, fact checking is going to be a top priority, but what about when something like an unconfirmed letter—penned by a disappointed father to his daughter, who kicked out her own son because he came out as gay—lands in your inbox?

In his recent study published by the Tow Centre for Digital Journalism—Lies, Damn Lies, and Viral Content: How news websites spread (and debunk) online rumors, unverified claims, and misinformation­—Craig Silverman looks at the infighting this letter caused between Gawker owner Nick Denton and the editor who posted it, Neetzan Zimmerman. Denton argued that he didn’t believe the letter was true, thus it shouldn’t be up on Gawker. Zimmerman countered, writing, “People don’t look to these stories for hard facts and shoe-leather reporting. [People] look to them for fleeting instances of joy or comfort. That is the part they play in the internet news hole. Overthinking internet ephemera is a great way to kill its viral potential.”

This type of public debate is rare, and private ones about potentially viral content probably are too. As Simon Houpt writes, “Journalism’s financial and cultural incentives, which used to support the search for facts, now favour the search for eyeballs. If truth is the first casualty of war, it is also one of the first casualties of the war for web traffic.”

Indeed, Silverman’s study found that unverified claims attract more attention than corrections or updates online, and fake news articles generate far more shares than ones debunking them. He also realized that publications pushing out these unverified stories usually only point to where the story was initially posted, without trying to figure out who was behind it. In the letter case above, both Gawker and Buzzfeed pointed only to the original Facebook post.

Potentially viral posts are somewhat like a large unfolding story—they connect with people on a personal level. During the Ottawa shooting, numerous rumours swirled throughout the day and many news organizations put a hold on publishing anything until they had confirmed facts. The same could be done for content like the grandfather’s letter, which, if authentic, wouldn’t lose its virality if it was held for a day. It would, however, put the organization in danger of losing valuable hits—whether it’s because the story turns out to be fake, or a competitor jumps on it first. Is anyone going to hand this story over to be fact checked before publishing? Likely not, especially because the consequences of posting a fake, but heart-warming letter are far less severe than being wrong about how many armed attackers are on Parliament Hill.

Online success for today comes when an organization is able to balance this type of possibly fake viral content and “shoe-leather” reporting. Because funds for in depth reporting have to come from somewhere.

Thanks to Tim Franklin for the image.