Even if we have not been to Eden, the longing for innocence draws us back to a time when we had not yet tasted the forbidden fruit.
Perhaps this is the reason why we relate to the allegory of the Little Prince, and dream of running with a butterfly net in our hands, and leaping from one world to another to catch the stars scattered across the sky. We dream of the joy of a child who chases fireflies and rejoices when a butterfly lands in his open hand.
Subconsciously, we try to protect our little prince or princess all our lives. And when this paradisiacal state is no longer physically accessible to us, we are left with our imagination, which we cherish with great care. There we are at home, in that illo tempore, in Narnia, in our slice of the ideal and of paradise.
The contamination of paradise
We have no flaming sword with which to guard the gate to that slice of paradise, and the deconstruction of the desire for paradise leaves us vulnerable. And because people believe that someone else can solve the puzzle and bring us closer to what we seek, the slogans of “messianic” political figures and their political programmes have been built on these “yearnings”.
The art of mass manipulation is based on this very reality. Consensus can be built by “guiding” public opinion, once the public’s needs have been thoroughly understood and skilfully exploited. The Cambridge Analytica scandal, involving the harvesting of Facebook data to influence voter opinion during the Brexit campaign, is an example of how information can be manipulated and distorted for political gain. The scandal has highlighted how easily people can be manipulated, leveraging a user’s profile by using targeted advertising and misinformation to directly influence the public. Exploiting deep-seated fears and desires and associating them with a visible outcome is part of the arsenal of mass manipulation techniques.
This hydra of costly value distortion is omnipresent: when we are confronted with charlatans selling elixirs and miracle cures, or worse, when we are deceived, we try to become more vigilant and warn others not to fall victim. But even this good effort is vulnerable to hijacking, and people become sceptical, confused; by the time we finally get to the truth, we may be too tired to fight for it. Over time we build up frustration, which we often take out on those who could use a gentle introduction to the subject.
Fire in the media jungle
As new media platforms proliferate, the amount of information transmitted online increases with the number of users. In the past, communication through traditional media was mediated and filtered, and the newspaper reader, radio listener or TV viewer was partially freed from critical examination of the medium and accepted the “news”. The owners of the media conglomerates directed the public discourse by imposing an agenda on the radio and TV stations, and the public either rallied around the broadcasters of the agreed ideology or changed the station.
Today, the horizontalisation of content producers and the increase in media diversity mean that the underlying ideology is more obscured and the critical sense of the recipient is more tested, given the relative anonymity of the sources.
This phenomenon is exacerbated by the recent development of artificial intelligence, which can mimic and thus produce fictitious representations of reality that are difficult to distinguish from the real thing—what we know as “deep fakes”.
In this whirlwind, we are often implicitly asked whether something is blocking our path to higher truth. Holding on to this suggestion seems to hand us the proverbial forbidden fruit which, once eaten, will destroy our paradise. Even the memory of it. The tragedy is when we take the bait without realising it and end up at the end of a long line of distortions of the truth.
History shows us that a war criminal can become a national hero, and prosperity built on exploitation is praised. An elite has ruled a nation, suppressing conscience and individuality under the cult of the leader’s personality. This distorted reality has become the norm, as evidenced by the persistence of post-communist nostalgia and the difficulty of condemning the horrors of that regime. Acceptance of the truth has often been hampered by the inertia of custom, tradition and the difficulty of adapting to the new ways of the world. Should the truth be presented in its entirety and the still unenlightened forced to accept it?
Philosophers, writers, and filmmakers have explored these questions in various forms and media.
For example, in the film “Goodbye, Lenin!”, Wolfgang Becker explores the impact of sudden social change when the protagonist’s mother awakens from a coma after the reunification of Germany.
To protect her fragile health, her son creates a facade of East German existence. The film raises questions about truth, personal relationships, and social context. Is deception ever justified? Where is the line between protecting and denying the truth? Is it true that we perceive truth as a dangerous burden? Hence a whole range of questions: What are the consequences of distorting reality? Does the preservation of innocence hinder progress? Is collective delusion a form of resistance to oppression? What are the long-term effects of perpetuating lies?
From a macro-social perspective, Isaac Asimov’s short story Nightfall[1] explored the risks of exposure to a fundamental truth that is misunderstood and inadequately processed by the general public. The story imagines a world in which humans only see the stars once every 2,000 years, and each time it is catastrophic for civilisation. Both Becker’s film and Asimov’s story, albeit in different imaginative ways, problematise how we manage the communication of truth and raise several questions: How do individuals and societies deal with the revelation of disturbing, paradigm-shifting truths? Can the search for truth lead to deep existential crises or a breakdown of social order?
Can exposure to overwhelming truths lead to mental breakdown or rejection of reality? What is the relationship between truth and faith?
How do we reconcile scientific or empirical truths with strongly held religious or spiritual beliefs? How do societies respond to the spread of truth and the spread of misinformation? What are the implications of controlling or manipulating information for personal or political gain?
The limits of the self and the panic of a civilisation
These questions have been tested recently by the reactions of people during the Covid-19 pandemic, and in the past by the way people have dealt with the discourse of totalitarian regimes. Even at a comfortable distance in time and space, one can be perplexed by these questions. Confronting these realities facilitates moral panic[2], as evidenced by the crises of disinformation (e.g. vaccine scepticism, fake news, climate change denial, the QAnon conspiracy) that have caused societal damage. The Covid-19 pandemic was accompanied by an avalanche of disinformation, leading to confusion and sometimes dangerous behaviour.
These facts make us wonder: Is it enough to expose people to the truth? What if they do not have enough receptors or have not learned to use them? And what if, over time, the non-use of these faculties has become a virtue of habit?
In the famous allegory of the myth of the cave, Plato discusses the implications and dimensions of knowing the truth, but also the importance of perceiving reality. In this myth, Plato imagines people as prisoners in a cave, facing a wall where they can only see shadows cast by objects passing in front of a fire behind them. The prisoners mistake the shadows for reality, but in fact the shadows are only distorted representations of the truth.
The allegory of the cave seeks to emphasise that our perception of reality is often limited and distorted by our prejudices and experiences, and that there may be a deeper truth beyond what we initially perceive through our senses. Furthermore, the myth of the cave suggests that the path to truth requires us to confront our own prejudices and limitations, and to be willing to engage in a process of intellectual and personal growth. In the allegory, those who manage to escape the cave and see the world as it really is do so only after a difficult and transformative journey. But this risky journey is not one that everyone wants to take, because not everyone has the same conditions and potential. At the same time, there is a real danger that some of those who have embarked on this journey, and who benefit from the additional truth, will develop a superiority complex over their fellow human beings who are deeper “in the cave”.
The elitist view of truth and its effects are discussed by Ludvig Holberg in his play “Erasmus Montanus”. Holberg satirises intellectual arrogance and the struggle between traditional knowledge and the understanding brought by new discoveries. The play is a satire on rural society in 18th century Denmark and explores themes of education, knowledge, and truth. A young man named Rasmus Berg returns from Copenhagen after completing his studies and changes his name to “Erasmus Montanus” in order to appear more learned and cultured. Berg insists on using Latin phrases and ideas in his everyday communication and interactions, much to the confusion and annoyance of his fellow villagers. He also denigrates local customs and beliefs as backward and superstitious. The villagers are not receptive to his teachings, and Berg faces opposition and ridicule. Throughout the play, Erasmus Montanus is shown to be arrogant and lacking in empathy for others, especially those who are less educated or privileged. Ultimately, he is humiliated and forced to confront his own prejudices and ignorance.
The play highlights the tension between the educated and the uneducated, the urban and the rural, and the challenge of communicating complex ideas to a wider audience. The lesson of the play is that in the search for truth we must approach others with humility and respect, recognising their experiences and perspectives. It is only through mutual understanding and empathy that we can hope to bridge the divides that separate us and arrive at a fuller and more nuanced understanding of the truth.
Relevant to the contemporary context, the play highlights the nuanced presence of truth in interpersonal relationships and the importance of balancing the search for knowledge with respect for different levels of education and exposure to ideas. The mere transmission of knowledge without consideration of context and audience can lead to misunderstandings, conflicts, and breakdowns in communication. Holberg delicately explores the interplay between upholding higher truth and honouring the dignity of those with limited knowledge, emphasising the importance of humility and keeping an open mind while navigating the complexities of truth. Affirming the dignity of those with different perspectives helps to maintain the balance necessary for mutual understanding and makes it possible to accept different points of view.
Divine pedagogy guards the watchmen
Biblical history has traversed such questions from the very beginning: the dilemma of “fake news” and “alternative realities” was the first temptation. By suggesting the existence of a higher good hidden by the Creator, the tempter presented himself as one who knew a special, unique truth. Then, after the Fall, we find evidence of the distortion of truth in the very first human family.
Later, in the context of the entrance of the Jewish people into the Promised Land, we see the pessimistic report of the ten spies defeating the optimistic report and outlook of the other two, when the minority report should have won the day. Although Egypt was a more powerful enemy than Canaan, it took 40 years of wandering in the desert for the Israelites to learn that God cared for them and that they should trust in God rather than in their own strength and opinions. Only when they understood their relationship with God did they enjoy the Promised Land as part of their covenant with God.
After more than a millennium, Jesus comes to earth and begins His Messianic ministry, but because of prejudice, He reveals His mission gradually. Rather than directly attacking prejudice on a conceptual level, Jesus overcame the preconceptions of the time about the Messiah through His actions. In each healing and sermon, revelation was filled with redemptive meaning beyond traditional prejudices.
This journey of teaching would continue after Jesus, as the mission of His disciples had the whole world in view. But even after the resurrection of Jesus, the idea of the complete establishment of the kingdom of God on earth had not faded from the minds of the disciples. So, shortly before His ascension, Jesus told His disciples that He still had many things to say which they were not yet ready to understand. These would be taught to them by the Holy Spirit, who would not only teach them, but also guide them as they preached the gospel to the world. In the Holy Spirit’s first missions with them, the disciples would be matured by the truth of the knowledge of Jesus. He is the truth that transforms, gives and sustains life. Jesus did not break down the prejudices of His disciples in a harsh and brutal way, but showed them the validity of truth in a practical way.
In the opacity of the horizon narrowed by sin and our limited senses, we see only fragmentarily and cannot always accept the truth. Like Erasmus Montanus, we can be wrong to put labels on people, to put them in boxes, because they have not yet understood what we have understood about the world and the universe. Certainly the truth has value, but if telling it would give the listener a panic attack or a heart attack, perhaps we should rethink our strategy.
Even though the people around Jesus were not always able to understand God’s plan, nor did they always see the reality around them in a divine light, Jesus gave them the essentials and the confidence to move forward and progress in their ability to understand the truth, and then in turn to apply it and pass it on more faithfully. History has shown us that the abolition of slavery, social work, orphanages, women’s and children’s rights, universal and free education are the fruits of the constant application of Jesus’ teaching. These effects were produced gradually, and the world of the first century would probably not have been ready to practice immediately all that we now recognise as the results of Christian philosophy in civilisation. The divine strategy took into account human limitations, but kept the goal of restoring humanity after it had fallen victim to the first charlatan in Eden.
Butterflies on the front line
The search for authenticity is part of the longing for the world of paradise, where there was only truth. The search for this promised land often begins with the search for people within whom there is no falsehood. The tragedy of our world is well illustrated in the end of the 1930 film version of the novel All Quiet On the Western Front, where the protagonist, exhausted by the chaos and absurdity of war, sees a butterfly. Then, as if hypnotised, he emerges from the trenches and, under enemy fire, tries to crawl towards the butterfly. Gently holding out his hand to the butterfly so as not to frighten it, he disregards his exposure and is fatally shot by a sniper from the enemy army.
The butterfly is a metaphor for authenticity and purity, and war is the state of the world. The reality of conflict, suffering, and the absurdity of the world collide with our desire for innocence and peace. When the delicate balance between truth and its consequences is disturbed, the victim is the seeker himself. And if my aim is for the beneficiary of truth to live a better life, I will ensure that the process does not cost more than the beneficiary can bear.
Laurenţiu Nistor believes that we need a lot of discernment not only to distinguish truth from falsehood, but also to know how to expose people to the truth in a beneficial way.
