1. Overlapping markers for disinformation and satire

Satire, deepfakes and disinformation can look similar, using exaggeration, impersonations and even distortion of visual and textual content online, to make a point or convey a message. Examples of this overlap were apparent with regard to the COVID-19 vaccination debate, where disinformation about the vaccine was spread using several means, including memes. Even if the purpose of those memes was to spread a humorous picture on social media, they could contribute to already existing disinformation campaigns.Footnote ¹⁴ Memes are an easy way to quickly create and share content, but because they are images rather than text, they are harder for automated moderation systems to detect. Since memes keep it short, and preferably funny and witty, there is no room for a nuanced message, allowing them to be (intentionally or unintentionally) misleading.Footnote ¹⁵

Memes and other satirical content have also been used to influence elections, using humour to evoke emotional responses from those who interact with them.Footnote ¹⁶ In political and electoral contexts, political satire has always been an important tool for delivering critique in a humorous way, but social media has amplified the reach and spread of this content.Footnote ¹⁷ This can also serve malicious purposes, such as using memes to disseminate disinformation.Footnote ¹⁸

To complicate matters further, deepfakes have in a real way entered our social media feeds. Deepfakes, now addressed in the Artificial Intelligence ActFootnote ¹⁹ (the AI Act), are understood as depictions or portrayals of a real person – so realistic that they could fool someone watching – created by using AI to manipulate content.Footnote ²⁰ Deepfakes can be used to impersonate political figures, sometimes fooling parts of the public into believing politicians have said or done things they have not actually said or doneFootnote ²¹ Due to the many available pictures and videos of politicians, they are an easy target of deepfakes, which rely on available content in order to replicate someone’s voice, movements or mannerisms.Footnote ²²

On the AI Act’s four-step scale, ranging from unacceptable and high risk, down to limited or minimal risk, deepfakes are classified as limited risk. This classification affects what measures must be taken, and in the AI Act, Article 50 (4) it is now stated that when a deployerFootnote ²³ creates a deepfake, they have to disclose that it is manipulated or artificially generated. However, such labels can easily be lost as images or videos are shared and spread online, causing confusion or misconceptions.Footnote ²⁴ This has even been called a legal loophole or grey area, especially when parody and humour are used as a shield when spreading deepfakes with malicious intent.Footnote ²⁵ Concerns have also been raised regarding this classification, with some advocating for a higher level of risk classification due to the potential harms of deepfakes.Footnote ²⁶

Hence, the line between disinformation and satire in the form of text, memes, or deepfakes can be blurred, but obviously satire and disinformation are different things. Satire can be obvious parody, which is needed in any open and democratic society to add political or societal commentary. Disinformation, on the other hand, must be understood as aiming to cause harm.Footnote ²⁷ The difference is the intent. Where satirical memes or deepfakes are aimed at entertaining and provoking the recipient, this is simply satire, whereas similar content aimed at deceiving or strongly swaying the receiver can be disinformation.Footnote ²⁸ These similarities can render the distinction between them opaque, particularly in a digital context where content is rapidly disseminated and often consumed without much scrutiny by the average user of social media.Footnote ²⁹

Similar difficulties can face moderation systems, both algorithmic systems, often based on AI or machine-learning, and human-based moderation. The sheer volume of content requires VLOPs to use automatic detection and sometimes removal of certain content, but humour or irony is hard to program into such systems, which can have trouble identifying, for instance, satire.Footnote ³⁰ Here, human moderators have an advantage, since humans are generally better at understanding intent, nuance, irony, and contextual factors such as cultural jargons and expressions.Footnote ³¹ Algorithmic moderation, on the other hand, can handle volume and notice patterns, like disinformation campaigns, in a way impossible for humans. It can also help spare humans of the emotional impact of content moderation.Footnote ³² According to the DSA Transparency Centre, 52% of all decisions on VLOPs were fully automated during the first half of 2025.Footnote ³³ Ensuring a safe space online requires that both human and algorithmic systems can distinguish protected satire and parody from disinformation presented under the guise of humour or satire. Mislabelling content can lead to both undue restrictions of expressions online and the fuelling of harmful disinformation campaigns.

2. Moderating harmful content and actions under the DSA

Under the DSA, disinformation is not defined. However, given that the Code is now a formal Code of Conduct under the DSA – and therefore plays a significant role in determining DSA compliance – its definition provides useful insight into how disinformation is to be understood under the DSA.Footnote ³⁴ As mentioned in the introductory background, the Code explicitly excludes satire from the definition of disinformation, as does the Commission’s Communication on tackling online disinformation. Apart from the clear exclusion of satire, the Code provides a broad definition of disinformation, and it is defined as spreading false or misleading information in order to cause harm. Misinformation is also included here, and it is differentiated from disinformation by intent. When people spread false information in good faith, it is considered misinformation; when there is a deceitful intent, it is classified as disinformation. Both mis- and disinformation fall within the scope of the Code. Disinformation is also understood as more severe acts with a certain specific goal, often some form of political gain, by actively deceiving the public. This could be done in forms of disinformation campaigns, both foreign and domestic, as well as other efforts to influence or disrupt the free political will of individuals by foreign state actors.Footnote ³⁵

Under the DSA, disinformation is framed as harmful but not necessarily illegal. Satire is not mentioned at all. The Commission has an objective not to censor content or decide that platforms should ban any legal expressions from their platforms by using terms and conditions. Doing that would exceed the scope of the Commission’s legal authority under EU law.Footnote ³⁶ Hence, being watchful about imposing obligations that could target content like satire or parody is therefore understandable and reasonable. However, the DSA imposes a firm risk mitigation regime to manage risks on platforms, and disinformation can be such a risk.

In the DSA, disinformation is mentioned as a potential risk throughout, a societal risk that can cause societal harm.Footnote ³⁷ Under Articles 34 and 35 in the DSA, VLOPs must conduct risk assessments and mitigation actions, to counter risks stemming from their platform or the use of the platform. The risk assessment regime under the DSA is very broad, and systemic risks relating to – for example – the negative effects on fundamental rights, and “actual or foreseeable” negative impacts on civic discourse, electoral processes, and public security, are all included in Article 34. Hence, VLOPs will have to conduct systemic risk assessments in a wide range of situations related to different types of contexts.

Throughout the DSA, a focus distinct from societal risks is also prominent, namely, the protection of individual fundamental rights. For instance, the importance of not infringing on freedom of expression is mentioned numerous times.Footnote ³⁸ The extent of this obligation is not yet clear, nor is it certain whether this means that VLOPs must factor in the protection of their users’ fundamental rights alongside those of the surrounding society. This would require assessing, for example, whether their service amplifies content that could negatively affect fundamental rights in general.Footnote ³⁹ These demands are also highlighted in regard to Article 35, and any mitigating actions under that Article should be tailored to risks identified under Article 34, and particular care must be paid to whether and how that action impacts fundamental rights.

The mitigating measures listed in Article 35 contain a variety of actions, including adapting content moderation processes, and VLOPs must make sure they have a well-functioning moderation system, with enough allocated resources.Footnote ⁴⁰ As of now, the best clarification of the weight of the demands for enough resources can be found in inquiries from the Commission. The Commission launched a formal investigation against the social media platform “X” for not managing risks relating to illegal and harmful content on the platform, like curbing disinformation, in 2023. The outcome is still pending, leaving unanswered what the real consequences are for failing to adhere to these demands, but central to the inquiry is whether X’s risk mitigation is genuinely effective – for example, whether it allocates enough human and technical moderation resources and whether its moderation systems are robust enough to meet regulatory expectations in order to counter risks.Footnote ⁴¹

As mentioned, a great deal of the risk assessment and mitigation processes remain indeterminate and are yet to be clarified, which results from much in the DSA being handled in dialogue with VLOPs and through voluntary actions, like codes of conduct, with formal enforcement by the Commission as a last resort.Footnote ⁴²

Notwithstanding the challenges inherent in the DSA’s risk assessment regime, its broad, yet somewhat vague, focus on systemic risks is designed to ensure the regulation’s longevity by avoiding dependence on specific types of content or technology. The assessment under the DSA concerns not the content or individual expressions themselves, but rather the potential harm they may pose to democratic values and society. Be that as it may, it is worth noting that some aspects relating to specific types of disinformative or satirical content – such as the mentioned AI generated deepfakes – are normally regulated under the AI Act and not the DSA. The obligation to label AI generated or manipulated content, like deepfakes, to avoid the risk of it being misinterpreted as authentic, is, as mentioned, regulated in the AI Act. The DSA does not specifically reference deepfakes at all. For the purpose of this article, however, the intertwining regulation in the DSA and AI Act becomes apparent. The specific risks of deepfakes relating to the content moderation process of VLOPs – making moderation decisions on manipulated content – are in fact still placed under the risk assessment regime of the DSA. This responsibility is further clarified by the fact that under Commitment 14 of the Code, it is stated that Signatories to the Code are expected to address and review various harmful actions and behaviours, such as malicious deepfakes.

There are, however, important links between the transparency requirement for generative AI (including deepfakes) in the AI Act and the demands for risk assessment and mitigation for VLOPs under the DSA. The demands to label content, such as deepfakes, and how that relates to the DSA, are highlighted in recital 136 of the AI Act, stating that:

Taken together, this shows that the demands on VLOPs to assess and, if necessary, mitigate risks of disinformative political content, including deepfakes, are part of the obligations under Article 34 and 35 in the DSA. This indicates that VLOPs and their moderation systems should – or indeed must – distinguish between, on the one hand, satire and parody, which are entirely excluded from the scope of disinformation, and, on the other, harmful disinformation that may also take satirical or humorous forms but has the potential to cause societal harm.

When discussing the DSA, previous research has also highlighted the need for regulation on disinformation that is fine-tuned enough to target the societal risks of disinformation while leaving room for satire protected under freedom of expression.Footnote ⁴³ The fact that this potentially difficult task is not addressed in the DSA nor the Code could mean that this is not perceived as a situation that would ever occur or that would ever be difficult for VLOPs and their content moderation systems to handle, and therefore is not worth discussing. It could also be an oversight in the Code and the Communication from the European Commission. In light of the current development, where disinformative memes, deepfakes and other forms of humour or satire can easily be mistaken for facts, all forms of satire might not be possible to simply exclude if VLOPs are also to diligently assess and mitigate risks. Or, at the very least, the moderation systems of VLOPs must be fine-tuned enough to classify speech as political satire – not a small task in itself, considering that content moderation in general is particularly challenging around elections when platforms are flooded with content.Footnote ⁴⁴

In understanding this, the case law from the ECtHR on the protection of satire under Article 10 of the ECHR might provide normative guidance into how to understand and identify satire, and how to differentiate that from disinformation.

1. Protecting (dis)informative expressions in political contexts?

Understanding how satire relates to disinformation first raises the question of whether the ECtHR has addressed that issue directly. It has not. However, the Court has decided cases relating to false, exaggerated or simply disinformative expressions in political contexts over the years, more or less directly. From the Court’s case law, it is apparent that the context, the political sphere, is of great importance when understanding its protection under Article 10. This is a context where the Court has stated that even in situations where untrue or unsubstantiated claims have been made, restrictions on them could be in violation of Article 10, something that can be exemplified by Kwiecień v Poland and Kita v Poland.Footnote ⁴⁵ In both cases, the Court placed emphasis on the fact that the intent of the applicants was not malicious. Even if the statements made in these cases were untrue, the aim was to shed light on specific aspects of either misconduct or suitability to hold public office. The fact that domestic courts deemed the statements untrue without looking into the motive of the applicants made both cases a violation of Article 10.Footnote ⁴⁶ As will be shown, these aspects will prove relevant in the Court’s case law on satire as well.

Another similar example is Brzeziński v. Poland. Under Polish election law, a court may decide – within 24 hours – whether a message constitutes disinformation and, if deemed false, prohibit its further dissemination. Brzeziński, a political candidate, released a booklet as part of his political campaign. The domestic court immediately deemed some statements in the booklet false and demanded that the applicant publish corrections in two local newspapers, and he was also fined. This was the first (and only) time that the ECtHR mentioned, the not uncontroversial term, “fake news” in their case law,Footnote ⁴⁷ and the Court highlighted the urgent nature of mitigating the effects of false statements damaging the reputation of election candidates.Footnote ⁴⁸ Nevertheless, the Court at the same time stated that exaggerated and provocative statements were not out of the ordinary for local political debates, and that the interference with freedom of expression under Article 10 was disproportionate.Footnote ⁴⁹ Here, one can also be reminded of the more general understanding of the Court that expressions made by politicians (and journalists) are especially protected in relation to their contributions to the public debate.Footnote ⁵⁰

To contrast, Sanchez v. France Footnote ⁵¹ is a good example of liability for expressions made (or allowed) in a political or electoral context. This case is not best known for its connection to disinformation, but for marking the first time that placing criminal liability on a Facebook user for third-party comments was found not to constitute a violation of article 10.Footnote ⁵² In Sanchez a politician had not deleted Islamophobic comments from his Facebook wall, and, for this, he was fined. The Court stated that:

Here the Court highlights the importance of not exempting producers from accountability, in order to avoid misuse, such as not only hate speech or incitement to violence, but also other harmful actions, like disinformation. Generally, the Court is adamant on allowing political expressions and debate on matters of public interest so as not to cause a chilling effect.Footnote ⁵⁴ But again Sanchez v. France is interesting since it shows a delineation of the protection of the “political sphere” as the political component did not prevent imposing liability for allowing hateful speech on the politician’s Facebook page.Footnote ⁵⁵ Also worth mentioning is that other types of false and hateful expressions, like holocaust denial, can be completely excluded from the protection of Article 10, through Article 17, and its prohibition of actions aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms in the ECHR.Footnote ⁵⁶ Disinformation that is hateful or discriminatory in nature can therefore, more easily, be restricted.Footnote ⁵⁷

But what about political or electoral content that is not per se hateful or inciting violence, but still false and potentially misleading? This is something that has been touched upon by the Court, especially in a pre-election context. Here, the case of Staniszewski v. Poland Footnote ⁵⁸ brings us back to the relevant aspects of intent and good faith. In this case, a journalist claimed that the local mayor had only chosen a certain village for a festival in order to gain support in an upcoming election. The applicant had not contested that the statements were not true and had not provided any evidence for a factual basis other than that they came from the public domain or public sources. Here the Court expressed the importance of free elections and sharing different information and opinions, but also went on to state that:

It is particularly interesting that the Court found no violation in this case, given that the applicant was a journalist and therefore enjoys greater protection under Article 10. Here the Court highlighted that the politician must endure scrutiny as part of his role, and the protection of journalistic coverage of politics and politicians. But the journalist in question had not acted in good faith and done his due diligence to make sure he presented correct information.Footnote ⁶⁰ Therefore, no violation of Article 10 was found.

This brief overview of the ECtHR’s case law shows that disinformative content can be addressed and restricted without infringing the protection provided under Article 10. In other words, the case law does not, in itself, conflict with the DSA’s aim of countering disinformation. At the same time, the Court recognises that, in electoral and political contexts, even false statements can have value, which strengthens the protection afforded to such expressions. The intent and nature of the statements must therefore be considered. This raises the question: how should satirical political content be treated in this context? Understanding that requires clarifying the ECHR’s reasoning regarding the protection of satire.

2. Clear and intentional satire?

In the landmark case Vereinigung Bildender Künstler v. Austria in 2007 satire was for the first time specifically defined in the Courts case law. The case concerned an art exhibition portraying public figures in different sexual contexts, and with four votes to three, the Court found that the injunction and the protection of personal rights constituted a disproportionate interference with the right to freedom of expression in a democratic society, given that the paintings were satirical in nature and contributed to public discourse. The Court specified here that satire is part of artistic expressions under Article 10:

In a previous case from the ECtHR, Alinak v. Turkey in 2005, the Court clarified that artistic expression is included in the protection of Article 10, stating that art is part of the right to exchange cultural, social and political ideas and information of all kinds, and must be proportionately met by signatory States.Footnote ⁶² However, artistic expressions in general does not warrant the same scrutiny as political expression discussed above,Footnote ⁶³ but artistic satirical expressions, by contrast, will require a more careful balancing in line with the case Vereinigung Bildender Künstler v. Austria.

The stronger protection of satire can be exemplified with Yevstifeyev and Others v. Russia. The case concerned a video portraying gay adopting parents as a response to an anti-gay video posted by the pro-government media website FAN. The video posted by FAN was part of a political campaign to urge voters to vote for amendments to the constitution. The Court stated that the video in question before the Court was clearly a parody of and response to this anti-gay video by FAN, and that the purpose was not to propagate against homosexuality, but to mock the original video. The Court also emphasized that “[…] the contested video could be seen as a contribution to a political debate about the proposed constitutional amendments, expressed in a satirical form.”Footnote ⁶⁴ Here, the intent is undoubtedly a large part of the Courts reasoning. The intention was to mock and bring attention to the matter at large, not to spread hate. This mirrors similar reasoning as in both Kwiecień v Poland and Kita v Poland discussed above, where the intention of the expressions – to highlight issues in relation to elections or politicians – was important for the protection under Article 10, more so than the factual basis. The Court also takes into account the context of the expression, the content, and tone of the message, described as humorous. Taken together, the Court could not perceive the video as actually hateful. The intent behind the video and contextual factors therefore suggested that it “clearly” was parody.Footnote ⁶⁵

Similar reasoning can be found in Vereinigung Bildender Künstler v. Austria. The depiction of thirty-four public figures in sexual positions and situations was described by the Court as “unrealistic and exaggerated,” and the painting of the applicant, one of the thirty-four depicted, “obviously did not aim to reflect or even to suggest reality.” This also led to the conclusion that the portrayal could not be seen as commenting the applicant’s personal life, but his role as a politician.Footnote ⁶⁶

This shows that the Court emphasises both the intent of the message, but also the tone, context and content itself, and whether it is obviously exaggeration and parody, not to be taken literally. Two sides of the message – intention and perception – are therefore important in understanding the Court’s reasoning.

To develop this further, the case of Nikowitz and Verlagsgruppe News GmbH v. Austria should be mentioned. In this case, the publication of a satirical article about an injured athlete had been ruled as defamation by the Austrian courts, with a penalty. This was viewed by the Court as an infringement of the freedom of expression under Article 10. The interesting aspect of this case, in this context, is that is that the Court discusses the understanding of the readers. The Court reacted to the domestic court’s suggestion that an unfocused reader might not understand that the message was satirical, and expressed that:

This indicates that the Court trusts even a slightly “unfocused” reader’s ability to distinguish satire from fact.

It has already been demonstrated in the discussion above that political satire has a strong protection. Going back to Yevstifeyev and Others v. Russia the Court also highlighted that satirical forms of expression are a crucial part of a democratic society when relating to topical issues, as part of an open public debate.Footnote ⁶⁷ This is also reiterated in Alaves da Silva v. Portugal where a politician was portrayed as corrupt in a puppet show during a festival. The Court here again stated that it was clear from the context that this was satire, and even if the politician himself had taken it literally, he must tolerate criticism in his position as a politician.Footnote ⁶⁸ This is interesting in relation to the case law presented above, showing that politicians’ expressions have stronger protection under Article 10, and that this stronger protection is, in a way, a double-edged sword. Their political expressions receive strong protection, but they are also supposed to tolerate more criticism. This plays into the field of satire, where politicians are expected to endure criticism, especially in the form of mockery, parody and satire.Footnote ⁶⁹ In Yevstifeyev and Others v. Russia the ECtHR further highlighted that […] in the context of an election campaign, a certain vivacity of comment may be tolerated more than in other circumstances” with reference to the Sanchez case, and others.Footnote ⁷⁰ This shows the high protection for political satire and its role as part of the public political debate.

The Sanchez case is relevant for other reasons as well in understanding satire, even if it does not in itself deal with satire. In setting the limits of the protection of political speech or the political sphere, the Court notes that hateful comments can become more impactful and harmful in a political context.Footnote ⁷¹ The Court has not ruled in a case that combines overtly hateful comments with satire, but in light of other case law, it is reasonable to assume that hateful or violent content would, at the very least, diminish the level of protection afforded to expressions, even in a political context.

This conclusion is further strengthened by case law on humorous content under the ECHR, where, in the case of Z.B. v. France, the Court ruled that there was no violation in convicting the applicant for putting a t-shirt on his three-year-old nephew with terrorism slogans on it, to wear to nursery school. The applicant said it was done in a humorous manner, but the Court argued that preventing the “glorification of mass violence” was a legitimate aim under Article 10.Footnote ⁷²