From the perspective of reputation management, Vingroup’s recent litigation campaign—specifically the lawsuit against Lê Trung Khoa—bears the hallmarks of a potential “SLAPP” phenomenon.
SLAPP (Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation) refers to legal actions designed not to seek justice, but to suppress, intimidate, and chill public criticism.[1] These lawsuits are typically offensive maneuvers intended to exhaust a defendant's financial resources, morale, and resolve.
They are most effective in situations with a clear power imbalance, preventing the defending party from contesting the case on an equal legal footing.
The reputational risks of SLAPP tactics are best illustrated by the lawsuit McDonald’s initiated in the 1990s against two environmental activists, Helen Steel and David Morris. Accusing them of libel for claims regarding environmental harm, child labor, and public health risks, the fast-food giant pursued what became one of the longest legal battles in English history. [2]
Although McDonald’s secured a partial legal victory and a small damages award, the immense reputational damage it suffered far outweighed the court's decision.
Similar hallmarks of SLAPP are now visible in Vingroup’s recent litigation campaign against critics.
In September, Vingroup announced lawsuits against 68 individuals and organizations accused of disseminating false information. Days later, the group stated that 65 social media channels had removed content in response. [3]
While the announcement was forceful, the execution remains opaque. To this day, the identities of the 68 targets are unknown. Even those who voluntarily removed content remain unsure if they are on the list, and it is unclear if the 65 channels that capitulated are the same entities as the 68 defendants.
Meanwhile, prominent commentators who critique Vingroup daily, such as Hoàng Dũng or Phương Ngô, appear unbothered, with Phương Ngô even publicly challenging the threat.
This discrepancy leads observers to question the true motive behind these legal threats. Vingroup’s strategy appears reminiscent of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, specifically the tactic of creating falsehoods to obscure reality. By blurring the line between the true and the false, this maneuver generated an immediate media spectacle around a large-scale legal campaign.
However, it effectively muddied the informational environment. It remains difficult to discern who the “real targets” among the 68 defendants are, or who actually holds influence. Much like Vingroup’s unilateral and complex claim of “victory” against Lê Trung Khoa, the publication of the 65-account list functions primarily to intimidate and sow confusion. [4]
In reality, engaging in an all-out confrontation with the public is rarely a prudent strategy for corporate giants, even when circulating information is inaccurate. To use an analogy: when bitten by a snake, the sensible response is to treat the wound, not to chase the snake to bite it back.
If the information is incorrect, a far simpler and more constructive approach exists: issue official clarifications and provide accurate context. For example, if public misunderstanding stems from complex financial statements, a corporation can educate the public on financial literacy while showcasing its own financial health—provided that health is genuine. This approach generates goodwill and credibility.
Why, then, do many conglomerates choose the legal battleground over constructive dialogue? An adversarial posture often reflects "flailing" rather than strength. It suggests that the corporation implicitly recognizes its best chance of winning lies in a legal arena—where the judiciary may be susceptible to influence—rather than in open, evidence-based public debate.
Public accountability risks destabilizing a business model built on fragile foundations, such as mounting debt burdens, precarious capital rotation, and accounting maneuvers that obscure the corporation’s true financial health.
A strategy aimed at silencing the crowd is a testament to the fear of open confrontation. Even if state-aligned media bow to corporate interests, the public retains the power of judgment in open forums.
It is the emergence of this multidimensional dialogue that a system built on control fears most, for it represents the moment the corporation loses its grip on the narrative it seeks to impose on public consciousness.
How can SLAPP tactics employed by powerful individuals and large corporate empires be curtailed when a massive power imbalance prevents equal contention in the legal arena?
The U.S. Supreme Court addressed this challenge through the "actual malice" standard. Established in the landmark case New York Times Co. v. Sullivan (1964), this doctrine requires public officials and figures to prove that a defendant not only published false information but did so with knowledge of its falsity or with reckless disregard for the truth. [5] As Justice Brennan opined in the majority opinion:
“The constitutional guarantees require, we think, a federal rule that prohibits a public official from recovering damages for a defamatory falsehood relating to his official conduct unless he proves that the statement was made with "actual malice"—that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.”
This standard creates a buffer for critical commentary, debate, and journalism, protecting the critical spaces required for free speech and expression. It reflects a judicial maturity that balances the right to reputation against the right to critique power.
The requirement to prove “malice” as an element of the speaker’s subjective intent is, in many respects, a measure of judicial maturity. It allows for the calibration of the defendant’s right to free expression against the plaintiff’s right to dignity.
However, the Vietnamese judiciary presents a stark contrast. Việt Nam’s legal system lacks a functional equivalent to "actual malice." In fact, the concept of malice as an independent standard is effectively absent from Vietnamese law.
Whereas the U.S. standard creates a substantial barrier that safeguards free speech, Vietnamese law structures the burden of proof in a way that strongly favors plaintiffs. It is often enough merely to establish that information has affected someone’s “honor or reputation” to initiate proceedings and expose the speaker to criminal liability. The speaker’s right to expression is almost wholly disregarded.
"Malice" in Vietnamese law is often inferred from the act itself. In offenses such as "abusing democratic freedoms" under Article 331 of the Penal Code, the intent is established merely by showing the individual knew the act might cause harm. The mere posting of unfavorable information is frequently deemed sufficient to prove "bad intent," regardless of whether the speaker believed they were telling the truth.
Why is this distinction vital?
Public figures and corporations wield immense influence. Consequently, the public has a legitimate need to access diverse information about them, even if that information contains inadvertent errors or inaccuracies. If the law demands absolute factual precision to protect the "absolute right" of a reputation, it would restrict the public's ability to supervise those in positions of power.
In any free discursive space, inaccuracies are inevitable. But what happens when such a person is brought to court, and it is discovered that the statement was not made with malice, but merely out of misunderstanding?
If speaking without full knowledge were a criminal offense, no one would remain blameless; everyone would face legal jeopardy countless times in their lives.
This underscores why a distinct “malice” standard is essential. Freedom of expression must protect not just the right to speak the truth, but the right to err. Paradoxically, the existence of misguided or one-sided statements is what allows truth to emerge. Truth is found through open debate and contestation, not through the enforcement of silence.
A heightened evidentiary standard for defamation regarding public figures ensures the law does not demand absolute accuracy as the price of admission to the public square. It safeguards the public’s right to be wrong, for society cannot progress if "accuracy" becomes a weapon to silence non-official voices.
Prohibiting foolish speech is easy; allowing it to exist is difficult. It requires the faith that through the friction of debate, society will sift through collective errors to find fragments of truth.
A mature society is defined not by how it punishes the mistaken or uninformed, but by how it tolerates them, allowing the public to verify information and move toward wisdom. Even the revision of constitutions proves that lawmakers themselves must correct the errors of the past.
Ultimately, a judiciary that refuses to grant people the right to be “foolish” is unlikely ever to become wise.
Đan Thanh wrote this article in Vietnamese and published it in Luật Khoa Magazine on Dec. 1, 2025, and translated it into English for The Vietnamese Magazine.
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