This case study is anonymized and based on a real Aegis Reputation Lab project. The company name, industry, and certain details have been altered under NDA terms — in this text, the company is referred to as "Meridiana Industrial."
The email from one of the investors arrived on a Friday evening: the funding round was on hold, "we need to clear up some questions that came up during diligence first." Attached to the email were three links — to three-year-old articles about the company's partnership with a Russian supplier. The partnership had long since ended. The links hadn't.
Two weeks earlier, a similar email had arrived from another fund. Before that, a verbal pass from a third — no links, no explanation, just "we're not ready to move forward right now." By the time Meridiana Industrial realized the problem wasn't the numbers or the product but what search results showed for the company's name, a round they'd counted on for another six months of operating runway was effectively frozen.
What was at stake
Meridiana Industrial makes precision components for industrial automation, headquartered in Italy with commercial offices in the US and UK. Before 2022, the company had a formal, at-the-time unremarkable partnership with several Russian suppliers — trade press in all three countries covered it as routine news. When the geopolitical situation changed, the company severed those relationships entirely, and fairly quickly.
The end of the relationship in reality didn't match the end of it in search results. The old publications stayed put — worse, some of them were written in the present tense: "the company supplies," "the partnership continues." Technically, this was just an outdated phrasing. In practice, it was the only thing an investment analyst saw in the ten seconds of searching before scheduling a meeting or canceling one.
Investment committees between 2022 and 2024 rarely dig into nuance: a top search result pairing "company + Russia" in the present tense almost automatically triggers a more conservative path — a pause, an extra document request, or a pass with no explanation. For Meridiana Industrial, this wasn't one failed deal — it was a systemic obstacle at the entry point of every negotiation, in all three jurisdictions where the company was raising capital.
The first line of work, and where it hit a wall
The task looked like a classic SEO reputation job: outdated content needed to be pushed down by current content. Aegis's first months of work followed that logic — an audit of search results country by country and language by language, classification of every position in the top 20, and placement of material about the company's current activity and its current, non-Russia-related partnerships in trade publications.
Some sources responded predictably: given a request backed by facts about the ended partnership, editors updated or removed the material. But several outlets — mostly niche trade aggregators — behaved differently. Instead of correcting the wording, they re-published the same material with cosmetic edits, bumping its freshness date back up, and in a couple of cases insisted outright that they "had information" the partnership was ongoing — without producing a single new source. It looked as though one of the former partners had an interest of its own in keeping that narrative alive, though confirming that wasn't something the client needed formally — what mattered was that suppression against a self-refreshing source isn't faster, and is sometimes slower, than accumulating new content.
By the end of the third month, it was clear: some positions in the top 20 simply couldn't be suppressed within a reasonable timeframe, because the competition wasn't a static page — it was an outlet actively defending its own material.
Can't suppress it? Remove it
That group of sources needed a different instrument — not competing for position in the results, but direct removal of a specific URL from the search engine's index: deindexing.
The distinction matters. Suppression lowers an unwanted page's ranking by placing stronger content next to it — the page itself stays in the index and can climb back if the competing content weakens. Deindexing removes the URL from the index entirely: until the page is reindexed, there's physically nothing to show for that query.
Deindexing has two distinct mechanisms, and they aren't interchangeable. The technical route — Google's "Remove Outdated Content" tool — only works if the material on the site itself has already been changed or removed and search is still showing a stale cached version. For outlets that hadn't changed anything and openly stood by their version of events, that route was useless by definition. The only option left was the legal one: a formal basis establishing that a specific publication is inaccurate, and on that basis, a request to Google's legal team to remove specific URLs from the index.
This is where the project's real complications began — because legal deindexing doesn't work the same way everywhere.
The same task, three different jurisdictions
The table shows the key point: essentially the same publication required three different processes, launched at different times and moving at different speeds. The Italian track started first and closed fastest. The UK track ran almost in parallel, but on its own timeline. The US track began later — it took time to assemble evidence for a court filing — and remained the longest-running part of the project when it formally closed.
| Jurisdiction | Legal basis | Instrument | Typical timeline | What complicated it |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Italy / EU | Link delisting practice (built around the individual "right to be forgotten") plus business-reputation protection rules | Delisting request under Google v. CNIL (2019) | 4–8 weeks per URL | Applies across Google's EU domains, but not globally — doesn't cover google.com or google.co.uk |
| United Kingdom | Its own post-Brexit defamation law | A separate legal request targeting the UK version of search | 6–10 weeks per URL | Requires its own process, legally unrelated to the Italian one |
| United States | First Amendment and Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act | Defamation ruling against the publication's author plus a legal removal request to Google | 4+ months | Google scrutinizes such rulings closely — the market has seen cases of suits against sham defendants filed purely to remove inconvenient content, so the evidentiary bar is higher and review is slower |
What changed by the time the project closed
In Italy and the UK, the top 20 for target queries was fully cleared of publications portraying the Russia partnership as ongoing. In the US, two positions remained by the time the project formally closed: the legal process on those continued past the seven-month contract, under a separate follow-on engagement — precisely because of the higher evidentiary bar described in the table above.
For the client, the practical effect landed before the last position closed: as soon as search results in Italy and the UK stopped contradicting what the company was telling investors directly, two of the three paused negotiations resumed. The third investor — based in the US — returned to the discussion once given confirmation of the remaining US positions' status and a timeline for closing them.
What we don't promise
The project's outcome is clean search results and an objection removed from investors' checklist — not a guaranteed deal. The decision to invest always rests with the investor and its own compliance process; Aegis's job was to remove a specific, objectively removable barrier — a distorted, outdated picture in open sources — not to influence the investment decision itself.
One caveat concerns timing: legal deindexing in the US is, by its nature, impossible to predict precisely at the outset, because it depends on a specific court's calendar and on how quickly the defendant (or lack thereof) moves through procedural stages. When planning a project like this, it's more accurate to build in a buffer for that portion of the timeline than to promise a fixed date.
Quick answers
Google has no general "remove it because it's false" procedure for third-party content absent a legal basis — the company is neither the author nor the rights holder of these publications. Without a court ruling or another recognized basis, the request is denied regardless of how obviously inaccurate the content is.
There was no reason to: most of the sources in the top 20 responded normally to a standard correction request, without litigation. Deindexing is a targeted, slower instrument that makes sense specifically for the portion of publications that doesn't respond to standard methods.
No. As the table above shows, a ruling in one jurisdiction doesn't carry over automatically to another — each requires its own legal basis and its own process, even for the exact same publication.
If this situation sounds familiar
If outdated information in search results contradicts what a company is already telling investors, banks, or partners directly, this is a case where delaying an audit costs more than running one. The first step isn't a spot-check of a single query — it's a one-time audit across every target market and language at once: it shows which part of the problem can be solved through suppression within weeks, and which requires legal deindexing on a separate timeline for each jurisdiction.
Aegis Reputation Lab runs suppression and deindexing in parallel, works across multiple jurisdictions and languages simultaneously, and builds strategy around a specific objective — from preparing for an investment round to banking compliance. Contact us to discuss your situation.





