“Look at the burnt tank. There are 10 dead soldiers there,” the taxi driver who picked me up in Tel Aviv said, handing me his smartphone. On the screen was a picture of an overturned tank going up in flames. It was the morning of July 20, and all of Israel was awash in rumors about dead and injured soldiers from the ground invasion of Gaza.

“Who sent you that?” I asked him. “Maybe it’s a fake? Maybe it’s Hamas’ attempt at psychological warfare?” The driver had a ready answer. “I have a friend at [Israeli news site] Ynet,” he told me. “He sent it to me with WhatsApp.”

I then tried to convince him that I am a journalist and that I am very familiar with that kind of information. I added that it would probably be best if he didn’t spread it any further, but he was convinced that he was in possession of an exclusive scoop, and most of all, that his information was correct. He couldn’t understand why I insisted on being such a party pooper about it.

I had met the taxi driver on a very busy day. I had been inundated with reports of Israeli casualties in Gaza since the early morning hours. The number of casualties ranged from seven to 17. Over time, I even started receiving what were alleged to be the names of the dead soldiers. Even when I informed the people who sent me such messages that they could well be wrong, and worst of all, that they could be causing unimaginable heartache for the parents behind those names, they couldn’t understand what was wrong with what they were doing.