Facts Matter

Words matter. The fact I declare this should come as no surprise, since I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember.

Opinions matter, too. But they’re meaningful only if they’ve been subjected to a rigorous examination of their validity before being uttered. Otherwise, they’re merely pointless, irrelevant noise, adding nothing of substance to any conversation.

Persuasion also matters. How convincingly we present our opinions goes a long way in influencing those who hear and read them. Logic, structure, and sincerity bolster the likelihood that they will be well-received.

Most importantly, facts matter. The truth. Without accurate information, nothing we utter can add value to general discourse. Absent validated facts, the things we say and write can distort a conversation beyond all salvation. Misinformation—and worse, disinformation—are fatal to an honest exchange of views.

“But what is truth?” some will ask. “How do you know what the true facts are?”

My best answer is that truth is, to paraphrase Hemingway, a movable feast. Not movable in the sense of being deceitful or misleading to accommodate or justify a preconceived situation or viewpoint, but in the sense of being open to new discoveries that advance it beyond what is presently known.

For example, before the discovery of insulin in 1921, it was true that diabetes was an oft-fatal condition. Following that discovery, a significant advancement in medical knowledge, a more perfect truth was established, and sufferers began to live longer and healthier lives.

Any truth is established through a process that generally includes observation, questioning, hypothesis, testing, and conclusion. But given the transitory nature of truth in an evolving universe, every conclusion is itself subject to further observation, questioning, and so forth, until a more plausible definition is found. And this cycle, the scientific method, is endless.

Occasionally, special-interest groups will attempt to misrepresent generally-accepted truths by substituting non-scientific alternatives that have met none of these standards. They often base their claims on ‘alternative facts’. But at any given time, for any given subject, there is only one set of facts. And there is a difference between truths that no longer hold, that have been superseded in the face of newfound evidence, and outright falsehoods proclaimed by those who would deny proven truths for reasons of their own. Mendacity is not truth.

Mind you, all of us have reasons of our own for thinking or believing things we hold dear. I value different thoughts and beliefs now than I did in my youth, but they are undoubtedly more considered and tested than those earlier ones.  

One of my favourite songs, made famous by Mary Hopkins, contains the lines: …we’d live the life we choose, we’d fight and never lose, for we were young and sure to have our way. But over time, I learned that we didn’t always have our way, and that many of the truths we espoused back then subsequently proved to be flawed.

The critical essence of facts, of truth, is that they are forever subject to scrutiny, that they must be evidence-based, that they are constantly in a state of flux as new discoveries come to light. Deliberate falsehoods are bound by none of those.

As a little boy, I believed the sun ‘came up’ in the morning because the rooster crowed, and ‘went down’ at night so I could go to sleep. That was how it appeared to me, and that is how those events were described by those around me. I eventually discovered the truth of the matter, but at the time I would have sworn upon my mother’s life that my childish perception was the truth.

“Is that really what you think?” a scornful, unkind friend could have asked me (although none did).

And I would have exclaimed, “I don’t think! I know!”

To which my friend could have replied, “I don’t think you know, either!” And he would have been right. I only thought I knew the truth.

This fictional anecdote points out a problem that can arise when we declare we think or believe something, and then, because we’ve declared it, assume it to be true, to be factual. If I think it rained because I had just washed my car, that does not make it the reason. Because I believe it’s bad luck to walk under a ladder or break a mirror does not make either of those things true.

One of the best pieces of advice I ever came across was: Don’t believe everything you think. And I try not to, although it is sometimes hard.

In politics, when one tries to ascertain the reason why certain things happen while others do not, there is a cynical piece of advice: follow the money.

In life, as one tries to discern the facts—the truth of any matter—my advice is to follow the evidence. Think critically, identify credible sources of information, and consider that information rationally. Words matter. Opinions matter. Persuasion matters. But above all, facts matter if we are to know the truth.

And the truth shall make us…well, you know.

Of, By, and For

From my Canadian vantage point, the longstanding myth of American exceptionalism appears to have been exposed.  The Benighted States of America has signalled it is no exception after all, as it falls into line behind nations like Brazil, Hungary, and Russia on the slippery path to corporate, fascist oligarchy.

Those citizens who lament this turn might blame the result of the recent election on an ill-informed electorate, but the truth is the voters were not uninformed, misinformed, or disinformed.  Well in advance of voting day, the winning party composed and published its agenda, Project 2025, hanging it out there for all to see.  So, any lamentations might more aptly be directed toward apathy or hubris on the part of too many Americans.

And of course, there’s the fact that more voters are celebrating the result than bemoaning it, at least according to the popular vote count.  In that sense, the will of the people prevailed, just as it’s supposed to.

It appears so far that the election process unfolded as designed, with no accusations or evidence of widespread glitches or fraud, despite the plethora of different voting procedures across the fifty states.  That process—which, by deliberate decision on the part of the landed gentry known as the Founding Fathers—leaves the final choosing of the chief executive in the hands, not of the people, but a select group of electors from each state.  America is still exceptional in this, I suppose, given it’s the only nation in the world to rely on an Electoral College.

Simplistically stated, democracy implies that majority rules, no matter how slim that majority.  In a tri-cameral system—executive, legislative, and judicial—it is rare that one party will capture the Presidency and both branches of the legislature.  But at the time of writing, the Presidency, the House of Representatives, and the Senate have apparently fallen to one party in this recent election.  The popular vote count, although not overwhelmingly one-sided, was decisive.

It’s worth remembering that democracy is not ordained, merely proposed and tried.  Churchill called it “the worst form of government, except for all the others.”  Still, it endures for now, and should certainly not be dismissed because it yields an electoral result not satisfactory to a segment of the population.

Whether this recent result is good or bad is based upon one’s point of view.  My own opinion is that it bodes ill for the future of the nation, and perhaps the world, but my opinion matters little.  American politicians are fond of proclaiming, “This is who we are as Americans!”, or conversely, “This is not who the American people are!”  Although neither statement is accurate, both can be apt in any given instance, depending on how Americans’ behaviour matches or clashes with those politicians’ ideological leanings.  For example, public demonstrations or protests are often acclaimed and disparaged simultaneously by opposing political factions.  At the very least, any occasion represents only who some Americans are and who other Americans are not.

One thing for sure is true, however: the entire population of 346-million+ cannot rightly be dubbed ‘the American people’.  Across all spectra—political, social, economic, religious, ethnic, gender, rural/urban—Americans, like other nations’ citizens, comprise a distinct array of diversity, not a homogeneous collective.  Americans, unsurprisingly, do not all think alike or cherish the same values. 

Nevertheless, it is clear the recent election was decided by the American people who were eligible to vote—those who exercised their right and those who did not, those who swung one way and those who went the other.  Democracy in action.

Like it or not, people’s understanding as to whether something is right or wrong, good or bad, is inevitably shaped by the outcome of any election.  Perhaps there is a true right and a true wrong in the moral universe, but it’s how those concepts are filtered through an ideological lens that matters most.  Did America decide wisely on its future this time, or foolishly?  Is liberal democracy the judicious choice, or corporate fascism?  Is an imperial Presidency the better model, or a checks-and-balances structure?  And does the worm always turn?

To paraphrase a timeworn sports adage, any nation is what its voters say it is, and it remains so until its voters say it’s something else.  That, I submit, is governance by and of the people.  Whether or not America’s recent election results prove to be for the people will likely become apparent over the next couple of years.

Ultimately, we all get the government we deserve.  America is no exception.