Unicorns, Hobbits, and the Need for Media Literacy

Sunday, March 7, 2021

How do we know what we think we know? Do you remember being born? What an odd experience that would be, to know that you are coming out of your mother’s body and into your own.

Some will claim that we can’t know anything with a high level of certainty. It’s all too confusing, there’s too much information, it’s overwhelming etc. And there is truth to that—there is an avalanche of information to wade through, not to mention that the idea of certainty is precarious in so many facets of life, such as parenting. What works for one child may wreak havoc with another. A healthy dose of doubt and a willingness to be wrong is essential in keeping us grounded and curious. But still, I reject the premise that says that we cannot know anything, therefore anything goes. Very often, that is a deflection to avoid facing reality if you don’t like what the truth is, and/or a lazy response to the realization that in order to be informed, you have to put a little effort in.

Here are some things that I know. I know that snow is white and that the asphalt will be stained with salt after the snow falls. I know that my third child was born on the winter solstice (how do I know what and when the winter solstice is?) I know that my hips hurt. That I am finding more and more grey hairs hidden atop my brunette head. That light streaming through a kitchen window in the morning is equal parts scientific and poetry. That I have begun using tea tree oil and vitamin E on my face (remember when we were young, and we equated oil with acne and the devil? ) Words like skin repair and fine lines grace the blue glass jar of the tea tree oil. Nobody wants dry skin. Sometimes, though, in pursuit of health mixed with beauty, I forget the sublime truth that my body is Real, just like the Skin Horse and the Velveteen Rabbit. Perhaps the appearance of fine lines simply means that I’m alive.

Let’s zoom out a little bit. I know that it is the year 2021 and that John Steinbeck wrote one of my favorite books, East of Eden, 70 years ago in 1951. I know that ten, ten times, is one hundred. Did you know that elephants live in matriarchal social structures? I know that in France they speak French and that the moon effects the tides. I know that if you are traveling at the speed of light, you could go around this decidedly round earth 7.5 times in one second. I know that heat rises. That if I jump up, I’ll come back down. I know that people cried and screamed and fainted at Beatles’ concerts in the 60’s. I know that George Washington was our first President, that he was a valiant leader respected by his soldiers, and that he also owned slaves for 56 of his 67 years.

I have not been to France, nor to the moon. I wasn’t alive in the 18th century or the 1960’s. I don’t remember being born at home on Rim Rock Road, but I know I was. So how do I know these things?

The short answer is: trust.

Unless we are superhuman and can bend the laws of physics to be present across every time and space at once, we are going to need to rely on other people to receive most of our information. We can only know firsthand what is happening in our immediate surroundings, which would confine us to a very limited worldview. We’d be imbeciles if we chose to never trust anyone besides ourselves in order to know things.

So the question then becomes—where and from whom should we get our information? There are many who would say : “Don’t trust the media! Think for yourself.” Yet, we don’t exist in a vacuum. It’s unrealistic to expect to not be influenced by our personal experiences, the movies we watch, the people who raised us, the religion, the region, the year that we were born into, etc. The phrase “think for yourself” has become a lazy way of saying: “I don’t like the information I’m being presented with, and it disrupts my already established worldview.” So. If “the media” at large and any other entity outsides ourselves are not credible, let’s source our news from unicorns and hobbits then, shall we?

Of course, there is truth to thinking for yourself. The spirit of this phrase is to use judgement, common sense, critical thinking skills, any applicable personal experience, and deferment to experts when taking in new information. If my doctor tells me that I have cancer, but Bob on Facebook tells me that I look fine and to think for myself (and pray for healing just in case the doctor is right,) any sane person is going to tell me that Bob is an idiot who is going to get me killed. Any sane person is going to tell me that it can’t hurt to verify the results and get a second opinion, but please don’t trust your health to Bob on fucking Facebook.

The phrase “think for yourself” has been hijacked. I would go so far as to say that it has also been weaponized. The expression is being used to create confusion and to sow distrust in people who know what they are talking about, all while making the person delivering said message to appear sage, in your corner, and in possession of some sort of fuzzy knowledge that—magically!—nobody else has access to.

We are not only in a crisis of truth, but a crisis of trust. The lack of trust leads to the lack of truth.

Of course, corruption is real, and disruption is vital to combat abuse (get into good and necessary trouble, as Mr. John Lewis would say.) We don’t have to go far back to see it. The Catholic Church sex abuse scandal. Watergate. Larry Nasser. The financial crisis of 07/08. Harvey Weinstein. But in each of these instances, ask yourself: who brought the truth to light? I’m not suggesting that just because somebody or some entity is educated or wealthy or powerful that we should not be questioning them. In fact, the opposite. Power must be held to account, which is one of the most basic and core tenets of journalism, along with levels and layers of accountability in the form of editors, fact checking, and multiple sources. Journalists and journalism are not perfect, but generally speaking, they are more equipped to deliver information ethically and efficiently than your hair dresser.

Practically speaking, I’d suggest to read, or at least listen, more than you watch. Ask yourself if where you are getting your information from is designed to educate or entertain. Is it just one person, or are there layers of accountability in the organization? Does the outlet issue corrections and admit when they’ve made a mistake? Ironically, when this happens, it’s often used to point out why not to trust media, but I see it as a commitment to transparency, honesty and truth.

I know that people are scared, confused, angry, frustrated, and maybe most of all, exhausted. I don't claim to know everything, in fact I don’t claim to know most things. But I do know this: the way out of this mess is not through Middle Earth.