Something was wrong with Malaysia’s internet. It was March 13, and the more Simon Angus looked at the data, the more he suspected that the country might be in the midst of a coronavirus crisis.

Angus is an academic at Monash University and the cofounder of Kaspr Datahaus, a Melbourne-based company that analyses the quality of global internet connections to glean economic and social insights. The company monitors millions of internet-connected devices to gauge internet speed across the world. For them, a sudden deterioration in a country’s internet speed means that something is putting the network under strain. In recent weeks Kaspr’s theory is that the “something” is linked to the Covid-19 epidemics, as people who are quarantining or staying home as a precaution start using the internet more intensely than usual.

Wired UK This story originally appeared on WIRED UK.

“For people who are in lockdown or in panic mode or in self-isolation, the internet has become a fundamentally important part of their information source, and of their consumption of entertainment,” Angus says.

To put it bluntly, when millions more turn on Netflix, scroll through TikTok, start a Zoom call, play Fortnite, or simply scroll idly through Twitter, that has repercussions on the quality of the country’s internet. (That is why EU commissioner Thierry Breton asked Netflix to restrict high-definition streaming until the emergency is over.)

Now, Angus’ scanning had detected that Malaysia’s internet had become more than 5 percent slower in the March 12 to 13 time span—worse even than in locked-down Italy. Officially, though, Malaysia had only 129 confirmed coronavirus cases—a relatively low number, although it had been inching up for a week.

What was happening, though, was that the population was cottoning on to the government’s sloppy handling of the pandemic. In late February, in what would turn out to be a monumental blunder, authorities had allowed a religious mass gathering to go ahead in Kuala Lumpur. Once Covid-19 cases linked to the event started to emerge, the government scrambled to find all the attendees, but they got the numbers wrong—first saying that only 5,000 people at the gathering were Malaysian residents, then updating the figure to 10,000 and then 14,500. With the mess laid bare, many Malaysians seemed to have decided to stay home out of sheer self-preservation.

“A number of people, apparently, were already noticing what was going on and were panicking, and were starting to change their behaviour in response. And this is the signal that we started picking up,” Angus says. “And because Malaysia isn’t known for its fantastic internet, [the network] probably was in a fragile situation already.” Malaysia enforced a lockdown on March 16; according to the World Health Organization, its case count stands at 553 as of March 18, but recent press reports put that figure at 900.

“Our data was suggesting there was something serious going on with the Covid-19 stress on their internet backbone, and now we know that that’s actually true,” Angus says.

As the coronavirus crisis engulfs the planet, some think that using official data to make sense of the situation only helps so much. Governments might be deliberately obfuscating what is going on in the country—as China did in the early stages of the outbreak. Figures on cases and deaths might be fuzzy because of poor collection practices or even regional differences in how the data is gathered, as is likely the case in Italy. More generally, official figures struggle to capture real-time developments as they happen on the ground.

“Who cares about GDP for Q2?,” says Jens Nordvig, CEO of New York-based data analytics company Exante Data, which has been monitoring the Covid-19 outbreak in China using, among other sources, GPS data from Chinese social network Baidu. “What we really care about is stuff like people’s movements and how social distancing is working. And there’s incredible data available now, if you know how to use it.”