Facts are Fluid and Truths are Relative

Discussions between people, especially political discussions, often go off the rails because each person begins with their own set of facts and truths seeing each as absolute. But what if facts can be fluid and truths can be relative? The issue then should not be hopelessly debating each person’s facts but understanding why their facts and therefore their core beliefs are different. Debates will only work when two parties have the same starting point, otherwise it’s just noise in the room.

I know, it’s a hard concept to grasp: your facts are falsehoods, and your truths are lies and vice versa. Facts are psychologically comforting and anchor us in reality, even though my reality may be different than yours. Understanding the concept of facts and truths being different for different people may require some mental gymnastics, but it’s worth the workout. Developing skill in the practice of Janusian thinking1 may also be a helpful exercise to find common ground when facts are fluid.

It also means that a person knowledgeable of this cognitive plasticity can devise ways to shape the facts and therefore the truths of others. In politics, some would call Trump a master of converting what many view as obvious falsehoods into unambiguous truths for his MAGA followers. I think attempts to change his followers’ mind by telling them they are wrong have been demonstrably unsuccessful.

For centuries philosophers have debated the question of what are facts. Plato and Aristotle anchored truth in absolutes, a reality that exists independent of our perceptions. Later thinkers pushed back, arguing that truth can be relative or pragmatic, shaped by context or by what proves useful in practice. Science has added its own voice, treating truth as provisional—our best explanation until better evidence comes along. Yet despite these frameworks, what matters in daily life is not just what truth is but how we experience it. And here, the brain offers important insights.2

I’ve been down the amygdala versus anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) road many times before, but I continue to find the field of neuropolitics captivating and very relevant to this post. As a refresher, the amygdala acts as an emotional gatekeeper. When new information arrives, it quickly asks: does this feel safe, threatening, or affirming?3 If the information resonates emotionally, the amygdala helps us accept it as true. If it triggers fear or dissonance, we are more likely to dismiss it. The ACC plays a different role. It monitors conflict, flagging moments when what we believe and what we encounter don’t line up.4 When it engages fully, often in tandem with the prefrontal cortex, it gives us the capacity to slow down, deliberate, and sometimes reconsider.

This division echoes Daniel Kahneman’s influential distinction in Thinking, Fast and Slow. System 1 is fast, intuitive, emotional—linked to the amygdala. System 2 is slow, deliberate, rational—linked to the ACC. System 1 gives us gut reactions that say “this feels true,” while System 2 creates the space to weigh evidence, resolve contradictions, and occasionally revise our beliefs.5 (Recommendation – read his book!)

The tension between these systems helps explain why people can see the same event and walk away with opposite conclusions. For one, emotional salience makes the event self-evidently true. For another, the same event feels threatening or inconsistent and is rejected. Confirmation bias and motivated reasoning magnify the divide.6 And identity complicates it further: the “facts” we accept are often those that affirm who we are and where we belong. To admit otherwise risks not just intellectual discomfort but social and emotional alienation.7

This is why the idea of fluid truth is so hard for many to accept. Fixed facts provide psychological safety. They anchor us in certainty and community. Fluid or provisional truths, by contrast, require tolerance of ambiguity, a willingness to live with the possibility of being wrong. For some, that feels destabilizing, even dangerous.

The implications in politics are profound. Polarization today is not just about different opinions; it is about different realities. Each side begins with its own set of “facts,” reinforced by media silos and emotional resonance.8 Traditional compromise—built on shared facts but different priorities—becomes nearly impossible when groups cannot even agree on what is real.

Yet labeling those who hold different truths as “dumb” is misleading. These differences reflect how brains process emotion, conflict, and identity, not intelligence. Recognizing that truth is filtered as much through the amygdala as through logic may be the first step toward dialogue. Only by understanding how people experience truth can we begin to bridge the divides created by competing realities. But can we really achieve that? I’m skeptical but I feel the need to have some optimism. The question is how long will it take society to get there?


Endnotes

  1. Rothenberg, A. (1996). The Janusian process in scientific creativity. Creativity Research Journal, 9(2–3), 207–231.
  2. Blackburn, S. (2016). Truth: A Guide. Oxford University Press.
  3. LeDoux, J. (2000). Emotion circuits in the brain. Annual Review of Neuroscience, 23(1), 155–184.
  4. Botvinick, M. M., et al. (2004). Conflict monitoring and anterior cingulate cortex: An update. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 8(12), 539–546.
  5. Kahneman, D. (2011). Thinking, Fast and Slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
  6. Kunda, Z. (1990). The case for motivated reasoning. Psychological Bulletin, 108(3), 480–498.
  7. Tajfel, H., & Turner, J. C. (1986). The social identity theory of intergroup behavior. In S. Worchel & W. Austin (Eds.), Psychology of Intergroup Relations. Nelson-Hall.
  8. Iyengar, S., & Hahn, K. S. (2009). Red media, blue media: Evidence of ideological selectivity in media use. Journal of Communication, 59(1), 19–39.

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