In high school, I once got into an argument with a guidance counselor over the definition of the word “truth.” She said it was about facts. I said it was about perspective. She said I was being difficult. I said she was being tragically literal. She handed me a pamphlet about careers in plumbing. It’s probably the most honest exchange I’ve ever had with anyone representing an institution.
Years later, I came across the quote attributed to Saint Athanasius of Alexandria: If the world is against the truth, then I am against the world. Now there’s a sentence that doesn’t flinch. It doesn’t hedge or footnote. It doesn’t whisper that maybe truth is relative or dependent on your Wi-Fi signal. No, Athanasius says if truth and the world are at odds, then the world can go pound sand. That kind of moral clarity is rare.
These days, the only time anyone speaks with such certainty is in the comments section of a conspiracy theory video or on cable news; and neither of those is known for its allegiance to, well, truth.
We live in an time so crowded with misinformation that it’s hard to tell whether you’re being lied to or just accidentally educated. Somewhere between the TikTok nutritionist who swears seed oils are killing us and the uncle who believes birds aren’t real, we’ve developed a kind of cultural vertigo.
The ground shifts daily. Up is down. Words mean their opposites. Censorship is free speech. War is peace. And anyone who suggests otherwise is labeled dangerous, outdated, or worse: “problematic.”
Against this backdrop, Athanasius’ declaration feels almost rebellious. If society is against the truth, then I’m going to take a step back, he implies, pour myself a coffee, and maybe stand very still until I remember who I am and what I actually believe.
It’s not the kind of posture you’ll find trending, because it requires one to not be swept up in whatever is currently blowing through the cultural cul-de-sac. It requires silence, solitude, and the kind of thinking that doesn’t fit neatly into a meme.
Let me tell you, stepping back from society doesn’t mean you have to move to the woods and start milking goats; although that does sound nice. You can practice this kind of resistance quietly, from the comfort of your own IKEA kitchen.
For me, it begins with turning off the television, which, like a bad roommate, seems always to be talking but never really saying anything. I then avoid the internet for a full twenty-seven minutes, which is about as long as it takes for the existential dread to set in. At this point, I usually reach for a book, which smells faintly of mildew and moral clarity, or go for a walk, where I listen to birds who I am reasonably sure are not part of a surveillance plot.
The truth, I’ve found, is never where people insist it is. It’s not in slogans or hashtags or “studies show.” It’s not found in the consensus, which is often just a group of people agreeing not to be the first to look stupid. It’s not even in the knowing smirk of that one friend who “does their own research.” No, truth tends to live quietly under all that noise, like a cat hiding under a bed during a party. You have to get down on the floor and wait for it to come out on its own terms.
The danger, of course, in turning against society in search of truth is that you might enjoy it. Before long, you’re skipping office happy hours and questioning whether “normal” was ever a good idea to begin with. You start valuing your time over your timeline. You discover you don’t actually need to have an opinion on every single controversy that drips from the spigot of the daily news cycle. In short, you begin to remember that truth, like dignity, cannot be crowdsourced.
I think Athanasius was onto something. The world, bless its overstimulated heart, is often dead wrong. It will tell you to chase money, fame, and approval, even if it costs your integrity. It will tell you to say what’s popular, not what’s true. It will throw a parade for nonsense and crucify the inconvenient. In that kind of world, being against it might just be the sanest choice you can make.
So if you ever find yourself wondering whether you’re the last person standing on the weird little island of common sense, take heart. History is full of people who stood against the world and turned out to be right. Some were canonized. Some were institutionalized. A few just quietly got really good at plumbing.
Either way, it’s not such a bad club to be in.
Join us in making the world a better place – you’ll be glad that you did. Cheers friends.