"Is Wordle getting harder?"

"Wordle sells out."

"What in the world is happening to our beloved Wordle?"

"How Wordle won over the world."

You may have heard of Wordle, where online players attempt to guess a five-letter word correctly in six or fewer tries. It now has millions of daily players and was invented by one person as a simple game for their partner to enjoy. 

In late January, The New York Times paid "low seven figures" to own the game, website and code exclusively. The website is vital for the game as there is no separate app or program, and the entire solution to the game is openly available on that single page. 

That purchase created a unique learning experience for people interested in how information and data shape our perceptions and reality. Three public conversations started almost immediately after the purchase:

1. New York Times has changed the game and made it worse /harder/ easier /American/elitist.

2. The acquisition means people no longer trust the game to be fair or the same.

3. The players no longer feel that they own the game and that others now own it.

Internet forums and panels have aggressively debated these points. People sought out like-minded thinkers to agree with them and shouted down those who didn't. 

Minimally, these conversations reflect more prominent topics and conspiracy theories shared across the internet. It allows us to watch an information narrative develop and evolve within a limited scope. 

Crucially, we can watch these stories develop with a fixed baseline of knowledge.

Here is why this story is a great reference point: nothing has actually changed in the game, it is all narrative and stories

The website contains all of the answers and underlying code, and it always has. The core data and game is still the same and openly available.*

Therefore, we can see if anything changes in the code and compare physical change with perceived difference. 

Currently, it's all perception and story rather than truth.

Since the acquisition, the New York Times has removed a handful of potentially offensive words, but the answers for each day remain the same and stay in the same order. Previously "Boozy" followed "Dozen", and at a specific point in the future, "S*a*e" will follow "R*r*l" (I'm trying to avoid spoilers for the answers in 2026).

So, if nothing has changed, why is this critical for information warfare? Why are people so excited and angry if it's still all the same?

The Wordle case shows us how narrative shapes and reinforces our opinions rather than data. 

People are always quick to blame anything else rather than their performance; that is usually human nature. Rather than having a poor day, we generate new narratives to blame factors outside our control. Whether it was not wearing a lucky item, the change in weather, or a sinister organisation, we tell ourselves that we are not at fault.

Our online lives make it simpler to accuse these outside influences and find other people who share our perspectives. These groups then reinforce our belief, becoming the oft-quoted "online echo chamber".

We can see these echo chambers form online around Wordle topics. Reddit communities have multiple threads about how Wordle changed, how to protest for the changes to be reversed, and even how to enter protest words in the game "as they are logging and ranking even incorrect words."

This last thread is pointless as the New York Times does not log the entries, and players cannot enter the proposed protest as they are not recognised words. Yet it is indicative of the sentiment**. 

We tell ourselves that free and inquisitive journalism will counter echo chambers. Yet the Wordle example is less convincing in this regard. Like the articles at the start of this piece, online stories significantly reflect the echo chamber more than counter it.

Even when people pointed out the freely visible answers, articles continue to question the data. 

"Ruining my day again... Some people believe double-letter words have appeared more frequently in the game since it was acquired by NYT and have accused the publication of adding them."

Even credible newspapers portray any counter-narrative as in the minority, openly questioned, or represented as an outside source. A typical example is, "if you believe one computer scientist, Wordle has not changed."

We now see people with an existing mistrust of The New York Times use this opportunity to reinforce and share their beliefs. Comments in articles reference other issues related to The New York Times or broader assumptions, such as "You can never trust the NYT" or "Of course, they changed it. It’s what they do".

This narrative expansion interlocks the Wordle story with other stories. If a reader believes that Worlde was changed, then it is plausible that other alleged cases must also be authentic, regardless of how fanciful.

It's just a game, so why does this matter for information warfare?

We see a few worrying trends in this simple story about a game. Verifiable facts and data are not trusted online. Questions are asked about data, the informed expert is placed in a minority, or shown as coming from outside the target audience and so cannot be trusted. An online narrative is repeated, often by the organisations that we trust to counter or test those narratives. 

The dominant narrative is often the first to gain traction online. Countering that narrative requires more than shooting it down with truth and facts or even people who are specialists. In some cases, knowing about the subject appears significantly more negative when countering the narrative. Readers are unlikely to follow a link and examine the answers within the code (the link is below) and instead continue to believe their preferred narrative.

The TV advert staple of a scientist in a white coat providing data is now actively mistrusted.

We learn from this example to tell a story rather than quote evidence and that merely sharing data is insufficient. Any data must be wrapped into the current narrative and shape a future one. Publishing data about deaths will not change opinion if the audience does not believe the story about the cause of death. It is probably better to use a report that does not directly confront your subject's prejudices before comparing the two cases to avoid instant rejection. 

Ideally, the dominant narrative is based on truth, facts, and data, and is adopted because it is both factual and compelling. Sometimes, this will win the information war, yet it is rare to see such a juxtaposition of truth, narrative and data.

The Ukrainian Government's current online narrative is compelling for these very reasons. They have an emotional story, expert opinion and personal witness, with clear evidence to support their campaign. It is a true story.

In contrast, the Wordle stories are regularly false yet compelling, playing to our prejudices and fears and countering evidence with further tales. Their purpose is unclear or genuinely malicious, and they become dominant with sufficient repetition by individuals and trusted organisations.

Wordle may be a game involving five-letter words invented by one person as a game for their partner. It also tells us how we use words rather than data to change our beliefs and that even simple stories are now regularly used to divide rather than unite us together.

Reference

*For reference, the latest version of the code, and all the answers, are here (WARNING this link may give you all the answers to Wordle): https://www.nytimes.com/games/wordle/main.4d41d2be.js

**Although some readers may read this last statement and still subconsciously be saying, "You only say that they do not log entries, but do they?

Is Wordle getting harder? You're not alone if you feel that way (nj.com)

Wordle Is Now Owned by the New York Times (gizmodo.com)

What in the world is happening to our beloved Wordle? | Puzzle games | The Guardian

How Wordle won over the world (telegraph.co.uk)

'Ruining my day again': Wordle 252 frustrates players (yahoo.com)