Opinion | Miracle Cures and Magnetic People. Brazil’s Fake News Is Utterly Bizarre.

SÃO PAULO, Brazil — Hydroxychloroquine is not effective against Covid-19. No. Definitely not. But Brazilians still aren’t sure. After all, just the other day a friend’s cousin forwarded a headline on WhatsApp claiming that all I.C.U. beds in the city of Miracatu are empty because the mayor adopted President Jair Bolsonaro’s “early treatment” — consisting of hydroxychloroquine, ivermectin and azithromycin — for Covid-19. OK, Miracatu does not have a hospital. But still: How can we be sure?

That’s just one of dozens of fake news stories about Covid-19 treatments circulating on social media — including one that advocates “nebulized” hydroxychloroquine, Mr. Bolsonaro’s new obsession. Well over a year into the pandemic, false claims still swirl. Is it true that face masks reduce the flow of oxygen to the lungs and can cause cancer? Is the coronavirus a biological weapon created by China? What about the involvement of Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg and George Soros? (Fact-checkers have been very busy.)

Even now, after the death of half a million citizens, Brazilians are forwarding delirious claims that hospitals are empty and people are being buried alive to inflate coronavirus statistics. Last year, as daily deaths soared, stories about empty coffins and staged burials abounded. It’s almost as if Brazilians couldn’t — wouldn’t — accept that things could really be so bad and took refuge in paranoia, suspicion and conspiracy. In this, of course, they had a guide: Mr. Bolsonaro, at every turn, has sought to spread mischief and misinformation.

Perhaps this sounds familiar. After all, aren’t fake news and Covid denial global problems? But there’s something special about Brazil. An interdisciplinary group of Brazilian researchers found not only that the country has among the most false claims in the world — only India and the United States have more — but also that Brazil’s disinformation is remarkably isolated from other countries. This might be, the researchers conclude, “strong evidence that the country is distancing itself from the ongoing scientific debate.”

Sounds about right. In Brazil, some falsehoods have prevailed over common sense, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Every time you enter a supermarket, a store or even a doctor’s office, for example, someone will measure your temperature with a forehead thermometer — but will point it to your wrist. This is the crushing triumph of a fake news story that claimed infrared thermometers can damage the brain’s pineal gland.

If that’s official policy, you can imagine what goes on at home. My father, early in the pandemic, tentatively shared a video — “I wonder if it is true” — claiming that vinegar was better at stopping the virus than hand sanitizer. (I thought that at least we would be able to smell the denialists coming.) Another relative swore by gargling with salty water after attending social events because it supposedly prevents the virus from lodging in the mouth and then going down the lungs. Some Brazilians wondered whether the coronavirus could be treated with aspirin. Others avoided popping Bubble Wrap made in China, denying themselves one of life’s great pleasures, on the grounds it would release virus-ridden air.

For the past few months, rather predictably, misinformation about vaccines has proliferated: Apparently, vaccines can cause 10 types of cancer, infertility, autoimmune diseases, suicidal thoughts, heart attacks, allergic reactions, blindness and “homosexuality.” They could alter our genetic code. They come with a microchip (or nanobots) to collect our biometric data. And they are often made using the cells of aborted fetuses.

Personally, I love the claim that fully vaccinated people can connect to Wi-Fi networks or pair with Bluetooth devices — or that vaccines make people magnetic. (The proof? Videos of people sticking coins to their arms.) As a matter of fact, the word “Covid” might actually be an acronym for International Certificate of Vaccination With Artificial Intelligence. (It doesn’t work in any language.)

“It’s like choosing from which side of the flat Earth we’re going to jump off,” said Dr. Luana Araújo, an infectious diseases physician, during the parliamentary inquiry into the government’s handling of the pandemic. She could have been describing any number of our bizarre beliefs. But she was referring to our government’s persistent promotion of ineffective drugs to prevent or cure Covid-19. And that’s the core of the problem: When the president himself — with the help of the state apparatus — is consistently sharing false information about the pandemic, you can’t really expect people to be skeptical when they’re told that boldo tea can cure Covid in three hours.

In the absence of a public information campaign about the virus — there’s no need for it, Mr. Bolsonaro recently said, because “everybody knows what’s happening” — many Brazilians are forced to rely on the partial information available on social media platforms. That gives those who peddle fake news enormous power.

I often hear, for example, that vaccines and hydroxychloroquine are basically the same because neither has been scientifically proven. Mr. Bolsonaro even said it a few times. It is, of course, false. But the deception works. Recent research revealed that almost one in four Brazilians — following the example of their president, whose response to testing positive was to reach for hydroxychloroquine — took some drug “as an early treatment” for Covid-19. By comparison, only 13 percent of Brazilians are fully vaccinated.

Yet there are limits to Mr. Bolsonaro’s powers of suggestion. He might be able to make people believe in a miracle cure or lethal Bubble Wrap. But despite his best efforts, there’s one fact he cannot erase: The virus has taken the lives of over 520,000 Brazilians.