Defending Real History in the Age of AI

AI Nonsense

This post from the “90’s History” Facebook group might look convincing at first glance, but let’s call it what it is: a fraud.

As an author and historian who cares about truth and history, its hard to stay silent when I see my research and writing crudely copied and pasted onto an AI-generated image. That “90’s History” post is a blatant example of a larger problem plaguing our digital age – a clumsy counterfeit of history where someone chased clicks and shares by taking my research and writing and repackaging it as their own.

This isn’t just about one Facebook page posting a high-school level reworking of something I wrote; it’s about the disturbing trend of misinformation in online history, where photographs lie and you can't trust what you see.

Personally, I hate seeing history treated so carelessly. We’re confronting a stark new reality: in the age of AI, seeing is no longer believing. In this era of generative AI, a vivid Old West photograph no longer guarantees truth. A computer can create an image of three men who look vaguely western. It can generate the folds of their clothing, the shine of their leather shoes, the pattern of the carpet beneath them. The text accompanying it can swipe fragments of a real historian’s words (in this case, my words) and shuffle them around just enough to sound plausibly “authentic.”

It’s frightening because it works: plenty of folks were fooled by that fake post, believing they were seeing a legitimate 1873 image and write-up. This “90’s History” incident is a wake-up call. It shows how easily fiction can be dressed up as fact and spread to thousands of people in a matter of hours. When any random page can deploy AI to fabricate history, we have to fundamentally rethink our trust in what we see online.

What can we do about it? As readers and fans of real history, we must become more vigilant and skeptical in our online browsing. The responsibility falls on all of us to fight back against fabricated history and ensure truth prevails. Here are a few ways we can stay diligent in this new Wild West of information:

• Question what you see – If a viral post triggers a wow reaction from you, take a pause. Ask yourself if the image and story make sense. Remember that even photographs (and quotes or stories) can be faked today. A healthy bit of skepticism is your best defense.

  
  

• Check the source – Consider who is sharing this historical tidbit. Is it coming from a respected historian or museum, or just a meme page with a nostalgic name? Reliable historians provide context and credentials; click-chasing pages often do not. In this case, a page called “90’s History” had suddenly become an expert on 1870s legends overnight – that alone is a red flag.

  
  

• Look for evidence – Real history usually comes with receipts. Are there citations, archives, or prior publications backing up the story? In my original post I shared detailed context and even a direct quote from Buffalo Bill himself – the kind of depth a faker wouldn’t know or bother to include. Fakes tend to be surface-level, glossing over specifics or dates. If details are sparse and the language feels off (or oddly familiar from elsewhere), something’s probably wrong.

  
  

• Champion real historians – I remind people all the time that I'm Matthew Kerns, and I research and write these posts. I link to my book, which was fact-checked and edited by professionals at a well-known and reputable press. But there are so many other great researchers, historians, and writers out there. Support and share content from people who do the work. Follow historians, authors, and educators who have proven track records of research (and who clearly love it enough to spend years at it). They’ll give you the full story, the nuances, and the sources. By amplifying their voices instead of the knock-offs, you’re helping proper attribution win out. Real history is kept alive by these passionate folks who dig through archives and dusty records – they deserve the credit, not the imitators looking for easy engagement.

Actual picture with text by myself.

Let me be absolutely, abundantly clear: real history doesn’t need any AI embellishment to captivate us. The genuine 1873 photograph I shared of Wild Bill Hickok, Texas Jack Omohundro, and Buffalo Bill Cody standing together is proof that truth is more compelling than fiction. That image was captured by an authentic 19th-century camera, not concocted by a 21st-century algorithm, and it carries the weight of reality in every sepia-toned detail. I spent years researching and verifying the story behind that photo – digging into letters, memoirs, texts, and archives – so that when I finally posted it, I knew every word I was telling you was accurate.

The real story of these three larger-than-life characters meeting on the frontier was already incredible on its own. It didn’t need ChatGPT or MidJourney or Grok to make it compelling. The authentic legend of Hickok, Cody, and Omohundro is as thrilling and unlikely as anything AI could dream up, because it actually happened. Real history is full of moments and characters that don’t need improvement – they just need to be told truthfully.

To all of you who love history as much as I do, I want to say thank you. Thank you for caring about the facts, for asking questions, and for not letting the fakes fool you. I know many of you feel frustrated and/or confused seeing bogus posts like this circulate. I do too. But your engagement with real history (through this page and others like it) gives me hope. Together, we’ve built a community that values honesty about the past, reflections on what that past means, and a commitment to learn and grow from that past – and that’s something the fakers can’t steal.

This episode with “90’s History” is just another reminder of why its up to us to hold the line. History is not just fodder for viral content – it’s our shared story. And its a story that deserves respect. It deserves careful research, honest presentation, and proper credit to those who unearthed it.

And it is the incredible ease with which the fake versions are created that makes the responsibility of people who know and understand the truth all the greater. I refuse to let sloppy frauds muddy the stories of heroes and events that truly shaped our world. Going forward, I promise you this: I will continue to call out lies and the fakes when I see them, and shine a light on the real, riveting history that no fabricated image can ever replace.

More AI crap

Here's what I ask of you: hold me, and everyone else claiming to be presenting you with the facts to the highest standard of accuracy. Seeing is no longer believing, so let’s commit to verifying – and to supporting the truth-tellers over the tale-twisters. If you ever spot my work (or any historian’s work) being plagiarized or distorted, don’t let it slide. Speak up, point people to the original, set the record straight.

In the end, the truth is all we have. The Wild West, and every other chapter of our past, belongs to no one but the truth – not to AI, not to clickbait pages. Let’s celebrate the real stories, the real photographs, the real people who lived and breathed these adventures. We don’t need fake cowboys or AI-crafted legends; the genuine article is already so much more than enough.

Real history is richer, stranger, and more fascinating than any fiction – and it’s ours to protect. That’s a legacy worth fighting for. Let’s keep our history wild, but truthful, and let’s always give credit where it’s due. History matters – and together, we’ll make sure everyone remembers that.