Truth, News, and the Moon Landing
I stopped reading the news entirely the morning after the 2024 election. My only source of information was word of mouth, which I loved. Updates my father delivered on our calls. Newspaper articles my mother texted me. Headlines my friends shared with exasperation over dinner. I didn’t want to know anything more because anything more made me miserable. It was an all-or-nothing mentality, and I was selfishly choosing nothing. Maybe someday in the future word-of-mouth news can be an honest reality for everyone. It’s how we used to live before trains, telegrams, phones, internet, email, Instagram—maybe we can get back to that. But not now.
Now, we need to cling on to information for dear life. Cling on to facts. Cling on to education. Because, for some ludicrous reason I cannot understand, we are trying to take information, facts, and education away from ourselves.
A few weeks ago on a work call, I was discussing the importance of space exploration with a thirty-something-year-old, ostensibly educated, man in power. He interrupted me almost immediately after I opened my mouth and asked: “Do you really think we did it?” To such a vague question, I replied: “Did what?” And he said (which knocked the wind out of me): “Land humans on the moon. There are some pretty convincing TikTok theories that the U.S. government faked it. Makes you think…”
No, I would argue, it does not make you think.
The rise—and mainstream dominance—of conspiracy theorists in recent years should be wildly concerning to us. The Holocaust deniers. Those who wanted JFK’s assassination files released. The people who would rather believe their government has been keeping an insanely massive, insanely expensive secret the past 50 years than believe an inspiring feat of human ingenuity put a man on the moon. Truth has gone out the window. More alarmingly to me, though, is that we don’t seem to want the truth.
The debate about when our distrust in science, and institutions at large, began is a long and complicated one, one I am not equipped to answer in any meaningful way. What I will say is that I suspect the pandemic had something to do with it. Suspicion, obstinance, and hysteria washed over our society and those feelings have since settled into the bedrock. An important line between fact and fiction, truth and theory, became blurred. We have not yet reestablished those boundaries and I’m not sure how we even begin to. Could it be as simple as learning to trust each other again?
I, for one, really want to trust people. There’s no possible way for us as individuals to know everything, to be perfectly informed. I’m arguing that we should know the basics, the non-negotiables, the broad goings-on, but we should also be able to look to others to fill in the gaps. I want to lean on experts when I don’t have the answers. I want to read from trusted sources that I know how to verify. I want to be taught by people who are qualified to teach. And, in return, I want to be trusted to form my own opinion. That is the foundation of our educational system: listen, learn, process critically, and share responsibly. Our current problem (one of many) is the deluge of information being thrown our way from unverified sources and unqualified teachers. How can we possibly make sense of it all? What do we choose to believe? To help ourselves, we’ve started taking shortcuts—asking AI, regurgitating theories from TikTok, listening to grossly unqualified individuals just because they’re “avant-garde” or “a man of the people.” But such shortcuts allow truth to be mangled and critical thought to go unutilized. It’s only harming us in the long run.
So, in my quest to reintegrate myself into the news cycle these past few months, I am treading carefully. It’s feeling a bit like whack-a-mole. The extremes are far too loud, popping up left and right and refusing to stay down after I hit them. For example, I can’t stand Fox News or CNN anymore. I’ve decidedly stopped reading Instagram infographics. And no amount of money in the world could get me to listen to Joe Rogan’s podcast. Instead, I’m focusing on local journalism and radio. What’s happening in my direct vicinity is always what I should know first. I like the long-form articles in The New Yorker and The Atlantic. I try to avoid any opinion pieces anywhere. I read what I can from The Wall Street Journal when it’s not behind a paywall. I get the top five news headlines from The New York Times emailed to my inbox every day, but sometimes even those feel like too much. The crème de la crème is the BBC. It helps me put our country’s problems into perspective.
It goes without saying but I’ll say it anyway: this is just my opinion. Leave it or take it or take some of it, whatever you choose. I am seriously no expert. One thing I know for certain, actually, is that Neil Armstrong did land on the moon in 1969. I also know it’s imperative right now to keep the facts close at hand. To know them and wield them like swords, or shields. Essential scientific research is losing funding. Centuries-old universities are actively threatened. The educational system is under attack. Our libraries, our museums, our public broadcasting. Every fact-finding and history-preserving institution is at risk in a way they have never been before.
Who are we as people—let alone a society—without facts, history, or truth?
*
This is the first thing I’ve written in months. My usual musings on television and pop-culture seem exceptionally trivial these days. Gluttonous, even. Whether or not it’s 100% true, it sure feels like society as we know it is imploding and I haven’t been able to justify blogging about something non-consequential, like my obsession with House M.D. We have bigger fish to fry. If there was ever a time to turn off the TV and snap to attention, it’s when a phrase like “constitutional crisis” starts getting thrown around.
The dilemma for me is balance. I wholeheartedly believe there is always a place for entertainment, the need for reprieve and light-hearted distraction. Another one of my core beliefs is “everything in moderation.” Both can be true. The problem lies in the extremes: when you become obsessed with the doom and gloom of the world and cannot live peacefully; or, inversely, when you dive head-first into denial and refuse to engage with the real world ever again. As someone who has historically lived in the extremes, I am trying to teach myself moderation. Media-specific moderation. A little bit of The New York Times, a little bit of House M.D. It is a privilege to choose when to be confronted with the state of the world—although it’s becoming rapidly unavoidable for many people—but, as of right now, it’s a choice I still get to make. I want to make it wisely. I want to consume wisely.
The last thing I’ll say is that I do not think the marker for being well-informed should be misery. In my experience, misery encourages distraction and too much distraction means we’re tapping out. So, I’m going to keep writing about silly TV shows and not feel bad about it. Whatever helps to keep my head in the game. Because we really need everyone in the game right now.
Thinking critically about how and why we consume media and information might very well be our last expression of independence.