3 min readMar 19, 2026 06:00 AM IST First published on: Mar 19, 2026 at 06:00 AM ISTTruth and falsehood are not just opposing statements; they are rival ways of living together. Lies — especially when amplified by power or prestige — can circle the world before patient fact has laced its boots. We live in a “post-truth” age, where feelings often seem to weigh more than evidence and where every claim can be dismissed as “just your narrative”. Yet, ordinary life still depends on some shared sense that words ought to answer to reality. When that weakens, everything else begins to wobble.What, then, do we mean by “truth”? Philosophers speak of correspondence (our words matching the world), coherence (our beliefs hanging together), and pragmatism (truth as what “works” in experience). In practice, we borrow from all three. A doctor, a judge, or a journalist needs statements that fit the facts, make sense within a wider picture, and continue to survive serious questioning. Truth-seeking is less a static possession than a disciplined habit: Gather evidence, listen to objections, revise when necessary, and still be willing to say, “On present evidence, this is what we should believe.” Plural perspectives do not mean anything goes. Different angles on reality can be partial without being arbitrary. Humility here is a virtue: The willingness to admit limits and learn from those who see what we have missed.AdvertisementIf truth matters so much, why do falsehoods flourish? Part of the answer is motivational: Lies can be comforting, convenient, or profitable. Part of it is structural: Rumours and half-truths are easy to share, while verification is slow and unglamorous. And part of it is what the philosopher Harry Frankfurt called “bull***”: Unlike the ordinary liar who still pays tribute to truth by trying to conceal it, the bull****er saws off the very branch on which public trust sits. Power deepens the damage. From totalitarian propaganda to today’s flood of contradictory messages, those who control megaphones can blur the line between fact and fiction. When citizens no longer know whom to trust, many retreat into cynicism or cling to their tribe’s preferred story. Most victims of misinformation are not wicked; they are human. We all prefer information that fits what we already believe. We are overwhelmed by headlines, clips, and forwards. In this environment, “cognitive ease” — what feels familiar — often masquerades as truth.So, what can we do? We can practise a few modest disciplines. First, triangulation: Don’t rely on a single source; look for independent confirmation. Second, provenance: Ask who is saying this, how they know it, and what they stand to gain. Third, conversational ethics: Argue to understand, not just to win; try to restate an opponent’s view fairly before criticising it. Fourth, character: Cultivate the habit of admitting, “I was wrong.” We cannot purge public life of lies, but we can dilute their power. A truthful society is not one in which everyone agrees, but one in which disagreement is conducted with shared respect for reality. That requires courage, patience, and humility.The writer is a retired psychiatrist