“What is truth?” a powerful man once asked the detainee before him1. It is a question that has reverberated around my head since childhood; inspiring feelings of puzzlement (“Isn’t it obvious?”) and wonderment (“If it is so obvious, why ask the question?”) Now that we apparently find ourselves in a post-truth society, the question is more relevant than ever. These days, it seems, politicians can lie, be proved to have lied, carry on with the proven lie and still win public votes. Whilst this is undoubtedly shocking, I do not find it surprising. The truth, as I see it, is that this isn’t some alien world to which we have suddenly been teleported against our will. We departed in search of this destination a long time ago.
From time to time, football matches are marred by violence or racism. Whilst this is undoubtedly shocking, I do not find it surprising. When it is an accepted part of the culture that spectators insult opposing fans, players and the referee loudly and obscenely throughout the game (to “show passion” and “create atmosphere”) it does not surprise me that on occasions they overstep the boundary into violence or hatred. That’s what happens when you push boundaries. To take another sporting analogy, I remember watching tennis as a child and being puzzled as to why the top tennis players often seemed to hit balls out of play. “Why do they keep missing the court?” I would ask. It had to be explained to me that in order to seek an advantage over their opponent they were trying to get the ball to land as close to the boundaries of the court as possible, making it inevitable that they would overstep the boundaries from time to time.
It seems to me that as human beings we crave certainty, especially about the future, in order to hide from the distressing truth that we live in an inherently uncertain world. Politicians are wily folk and they have picked up on this. They have learned two truths from us. Firstly, if they don’t persuade people to vote for them then they can’t do the job that they want to do. Secondly, the way to persuade people to vote for them is to pretend that they can make the future appear more certain by making promises about what they will (or will not) do if elected. Although at one level they are, of course, personally responsible for whether or not they choose to lie, at another level we are partly to blame ourselves, because they are just trying to give us what we want. This is where we have been complicit in selecting our destination of post-truth society.
What happens next is that when our politicians are confronted with the reality of events as they happen, we are outraged when they break the promises that we pushed them into making in order to get elected. To change their mind about something is, it seems, to commit political suicide. “Making a u-turn!” is, indeed, a dirty phrase. As a result, we get the bizarre spectacle of politicians trying to persuade us that their change of direction isn’t actually a change (even though it may be the best course given the current circumstances) but that it is entirely consistent with what they have always told us they would do. We are, by now, passed the point of no return on our journey towards our post-truth destination. As someone once said, “Every nation gets the government it deserves.”
Whilst the Leave campaign’s claim that the UK would have £350 million a week more to spend on the NHS was a proven falsehood, the Remain campaign’s claim that families would be £4,300 worse off by 2030 is just as much a symptom of the post-truth world we live in. Forecasting is, after all, the art of saying what will happen, and then explaining why it didn’t. To present expert forecasts as certainties is to push the boundaries of truth to breaking point. In trying to give us certainty, politicians persistently do this and so I am not surprised when they occasionally overstep the boundary into lying. As with certain tennis players, though, they may be utterly convinced that their ball was on the line, even though everyone else can see that it wasn’t.
Returning to the football analogy, the role of the referee is, I think, interesting and misunderstood. Why do we have a referee? Firstly, we invent some rules so that we can play a game that we call football. The idea is that it will be an enjoyable activity. However, when we try to play it, we don’t agree about whether or not the rules have been followed. We argue about it. The game breaks down into chaos. There is nothing left to enjoy. In order to avoid this, a referee is appointed. Their job is not to unerringly find the truth in every situation. Their job is not to give us certainty about everything that happens in the game. They will not get everything right. Their job is to provide a swift judgement as to whether or not the rules have been followed in order to prevent the game descending into chaos and therefore allow it to carry on to its conclusion. That way the game can be enjoyed. However, this can only work though if everyone respects the decisions they make.
In our public life, aspects of the role of the football referee are taken by parliament, government and judiciary. Parliament and government cannot always provide us with certainty. Judiciary will not always be able to determine the truth. They can only determine, to the best of their ability, whether or not the rules we have laid down have been followed. They will not always get it right, any more than any of us get everything that we do right. If we lose respect for our referees, if we surround them and abuse them when we disagree with them, then the whole system is in grave danger of breaking down into chaos: the maximum degree of uncertainty. Chaos is what we strive to avoid, yet seem also compelled to bring about. Remember though, the referee that we need to respect isn’t just the judiciary, but our parliament and government as well. I think I now see why Paul wrote in his letter to the Christians in Rome “Everyone must submit to the governing authorities.” Written at the time when Nero was Emperor, I have found this puzzling, appearing as it does to condone unjust, corrupt rule. However, agree with them or disagree with them, like them or dislike them, the governing authorities are what keep us this side of chaos. As recent history has shown, achieving regime change without descent into chaos is a very tricky thing to manage, whether we intervene directly or not.
There is currently an argument in the UK that in the EU referendum we have selected departure but that we must have another vote to choose our destination. However, when the UK joined the EEC back in the 1970s that was a departure the destination of which is unclear even now. Who knows where remaining in the EU would take us? Ever closer union is also an option of great uncertainty. The truth, as I see it, is that our destination is not something that we ever get to choose. The best we can hope for, as we are swept along in the raging torrent of history, is that we can steer ourselves a little bit this way and a little bit that way and so avoid the worst of the obstacles before us. My judgment is that in a smaller boat outside of the EU the UK will be a little bit more manoeuvrable and a little bit more flexible and so will be able to steer a little bit better. To call that “taking back control” would, in truth, be a post-truth statement.
1 John, Chapter 18, Verse 38