False Truths, Factual Truths, and the Cult of Honesty

Truth is slippery—like trying to nail Jell-O to the ghost of a wall you hallucinated in therapy.

Sometimes truth feels solid, like a stone in your hand. Other times it dissolves into smoke the moment you grab for it. And the most dangerous truths? Those are the ones believed most sincerely by people who think they’re doing good.

Think of Negan in The Walking Dead. He thought he was saving people. The Nazis believed they were “purifying” the world. That’s not metaphor. That’s not hyperbole. That’s the terrifying power of belief masquerading as truth.

So how do we tell the difference between truths that endure and those that collapse like wet cardboard in a rainstorm of self-righteousness?

We draw the line between Factual Truths and False Truths.


🧱 Factual Truths: The Annoyingly Persistent Kind

Factual truths hold up to evidence, verification, and consensus—regardless of your opinions, political party, or personal branding.

  • Climate change is real, human-caused, and scientifically measurable.
  • COVID-19 killed over 1 million people in the U.S. and vaccines dramatically reduced hospitalization rates.
  • Wealth inequality is skyrocketing—the top 1% own more wealth than the bottom 90% combined.
  • Slavery is the foundation of American economic history, not just “a chapter” to be glossed over in 8th grade textbooks.
  • Trans people exist. Gender-affirming care saves lives. Period.

These are not “debates.” These are bricks in the wall of reality.


🎭 False Truths: The Sincerest Lies

False truths feel true, especially when they stroke our ego or protect our worldview. They’re contagious, tribal, and often come wrapped in patriotism or empathy—or both.

🟥 MAGA Flavor:

  • “America was better in the 1950s” — unless you were Black, queer, female, poor, or anything other than a white suburban dad.
  • “The 2020 election was stolen” — multiple audits, courts, and Republican officials confirmed it wasn’t.
  • “Immigrants are invading” — net immigration is lower than fear-mongers claim, and immigrants commit fewer crimes on average than native-born citizens.
  • “Trump tells it like it is” — Trump told over 30,000 documented lies during his first term, including lies about COVID, the economy, and basic science.

These aren’t just mistakes. They’re narratives—crafted, repeated, believed—and they shape policy, violence, and reality.

🔵 Liberal Delusions:

  • “We’re on the right side of history” — history is not a side-scroller game where progress is guaranteed.
  • “If everyone just got educated, they’d agree with us” — this is classist, ableist, and ignores the emotional architecture of belief.
  • “Police abolition is a clear moral solution” — maybe, but there’s no cohesive plan. And ignoring communities asking for reform not removal is another form of ideological arrogance.
  • “We’re the inclusive side” — unless someone dissents. Then cancel culture becomes a digital guillotine.

Liberalism too often substitutes self-righteous performance for structural action. It builds aesthetic consensus instead of uncomfortable coalitions.


🧊 When Empathy Vacuums Become Megaphones

Here’s where it gets horrifying: people believe their lies sincerely. Not because they’re evil (usually), but because bias + repetition + identity = pseudo-reality.

Studies show:

  • Authoritarians score lower on empathy and higher on belief rigidity.
  • Liberals overestimate how tolerant they are—and underestimate how intolerant they become under threat.
  • The more emotionally intense a belief is, the less likely people are to change it—even when proven wrong.
    (See: belief perseverance, motivated reasoning, and our entire electoral system.)

🪞The Mirror Hurts (But That’s Where the Work Starts)

False truths are cults of comfort. We cling to them because they make us feel right, safe, good—even when they’re ripping holes in the fabric of collective reality.

The cult of Brighter Days isn’t immune either. That’s why we have rituals of failure. That’s why we laugh at our own dogma. That’s why we make space for paradox, because truth isn’t always emotionally satisfying—but it is necessary.


🌈 Brighter Days Are Built On Better Bullshit Detectors

We will fall for false truths. That’s the human condition. But we can practice recognizing them.

It starts by asking:

  • Does this belief survive outside my bubble?
  • Who benefits from me believing this?
  • Am I being comforted—or informed?
  • What am I refusing to look at?

False truths are the cult you never meant to join.
Factual truths are the ground beneath your resistance.

And the work of Brighter Days is learning to tell the difference—and forgiving ourselves when we get it spectacularly wrong.