Poundshop Propaganda

How AI and ideology swallowed the voice of a journalist I once admired.

I used to admire Iain Muir, his blog ‘Scotland Today Online’ was uncomfortable, but it was well argued.

I didn’t always agree with his takes — in fact, I often didn’t — but that was part of the appeal. He was one of those rare voices in journalism who didn’t seem to care whether his opinions were fashionable. He wrote with clarity, had broad interests, and stuck to his guns. You could tell he’d thought things through, even if you disagreed with where he landed.

His blog was unusual — part geopolitics, part aviation, part psychology — and I respected the way he laid out arguments and defended them in public. He was blunt but not cruel. His writing had a cadence to it. He engaged, even with critics. It was sincere, even when it was wrong.

I followed him because, in a sea of posturing, he seemed real. But a few months ago, something changed. The blog disappeared. When it returned, it wasn’t the same — not even close. It’s now called “globalviewpointx”.

It looked like him, sounded vaguely like him… but only if you squinted. Gone was the thoughtfulness. Gone was the balance. What replaced it was a flood of content — and I mean flood — bashing Ukraine, praising Putin, blaming NATO for everything, and calling Western leaders “venomous puff adders” and “globalist elites.”

At first I thought it was just a phase. Maybe he’d been radicalised by the online mess we’re all drowning in. Maybe something personal had happened. But then the tone shifted from just “angry” to inhuman. And I don’t mean cold — I mean synthetic.

Because here’s the truth: I don’t think Iain Muir is writing these articles anymore.
Not alone, anyway.

The Content Reads Like It Was Prompted, Not Written

I work in media. I write for a living. And I know what human writing looks like — especially from someone you’ve followed for years. This new stuff? It’s not that.

The current version of Iain’s blog reads like it’s AI-assisted — maybe even AI-generated from start to finish. The structure is too clean. The arguments too circular. The repetition too perfect. It’s like someone typed a prompt into ChatGPT — “Write a professional-sounding piece blaming Finland for provoking Russia” — and hit “Generate” five times in a row.

The same buzzwords appear in every piece: Russia is “resolute,” NATO is “encroaching,” Ukraine is “corrupt,” and Western governments are “puppets of Davos elites.” The posts are structured like press releases, full of fury but without any real evidence. They mimic the shape of journalism but none of the substance.

It’s not hard to see how it happens. Once you feed an AI the right ideological inputs, it will hand you back something that looks like an article. But it’s not reporting. It’s not analysis. It’s performance. Propaganda in a clean serif font.

Volume Over Value

Before, Iain posted when he had something to say. Now? The blog churns out dozens of articles in a week — some long, some short, some thinly rewritten clones of each other.

This isn’t journalism. It’s ideology fed through a content mill. It doesn’t matter what country the piece is about: the same phrases, the same villains, the same applause lines for Putin. It’s paint-by-numbers punditry, scaled up by a machine that doesn’t sleep.

What’s worse is how transparent it is. Some pieces read like someone asked ChatGPT to rewrite a Russia Today op-ed with better grammar. It’s not even good propaganda. It’s lazy. But that’s the point: this kind of spam isn’t meant to persuade critical thinkers. It’s meant to crowd out real debate. To flood the zone with nonsense.

And when people still trust the byline, they might assume the person behind it is still the same.

What Really Shocked Me

What really shocked me, though, wasn’t the tone — it was seeing my own publication targeted in a post that read like it had been cobbled together by an algorithm with a grudge.

The piece, titled “Anti-Russian Bias in Journalism: The UK Defence Journal as a Case Study,” accused us of pushing government talking points, failing to provide context, and contributing to the erosion of journalistic trust. It specifically cited one of our articles covering the Defence Secretary’s announcement of military aid to Ukraine.

The problem? It was all delivered with robotic fury, missing the core of what journalism actually is. It criticised the piece for being a “report” instead of an op-ed, as if reporting what a minister says — factually and clearly — is some kind of crime. It made no effort to contact us for comment. It didn’t flag concerns, didn’t seek dialogue. Just launched a fully-formed accusation with no warning.

It didn’t sound like someone who understood journalism. It sounded like a machine parroting propaganda, mimicking critique without grasping ethics. It was a classic LLM output: articulate, aggressive, and hollow.

The Personal Cost

I wouldn’t be writing this if it hadn’t turned personal. After I pushed back on a misleading piece that attacked a report we published at the UK Defence Journal, I reached out privately. I expected disagreement. Maybe a heated reply. What I got was abuse:

“You are such a PUSSY! You scream like a little bitch any time you are challenged.”

I was stunned. Not because I’d never been insulted online before — I have. But because this came from someone I genuinely respected. Someone I’d always tried to engage with in good faith. Someone who had once given me advice.

I never imagined that disagreeing with a blog post would lead to that. And that’s what truly unsettled me: not the content, but the contempt. The complete lack of empathy. The ease with which civility was discarded. It didn’t feel like I was talking to a person anymore. It felt like I was speaking to an account. A role. A function.

What This Really Is

This isn’t just about one man losing the plot. It’s about what happens when radicalisation and automation meet. This blog — whatever it is now — is part of something bigger. It’s what happens when you give someone an ideological cause, a language model, and a platform with no editorial guardrails. The result is content that looks professional, sounds convincing, and spreads fast.

It’s not trying to win arguments. It’s trying to overwhelm. To make it harder for truth to breathe. And it’s working.

This is how AI is already being used in disinformation — not through deepfakes or robo-voices, but through plausible-sounding text that mimics the style of journalism while hollowing out its purpose. It’s a Trojan horse. The headline says “Report.” The payload is poison.

The Real Loss

I don’t hate Iain. I still follow him. I still want to believe there’s a way back. But I can’t pretend this is normal. Watching someone you respected descend into this kind of content machine is painful. Watching their name become a vehicle for low-rent propaganda is worse.

Because I remember what his writing used to sound like. I remember the curiosity. The edge. The integrity. Now it’s just noise.

We should all be aware of how easily this can happen. The tools are here. The algorithms are here. The loneliness, the anger, the echo chambers — they’re here too. This could happen to anyone. That’s the terrifying part.

We need to talk about it before the bylines we trust become nothing more than the names on a feed of machine-written rage. Because what’s being published now under Iain Muir’s name isn’t journalism.

It’s poundshop propaganda. And it’s coming for all of us.