A Perfect 10 Has Nowhere to Go

 

This also appears in O'Dwyer's PR

Years ago, during a job interview, I asked the chairman of a global company how he would rate his organization across a range of measures.

“The company is a 10,” he said.

Not an eight or even a nine and a half. A 10.

I wondered: Really? No dissatisfied customers, no failed employees, no products to improve, no smarter competitors?

Whether his answer reflected confidence, salesmanship, or sincere belief, I knew what bothered me. A 10 leaves you nowhere to go.

Today, we are seeing a far more consequential version of the “10” mindset in President Donald Trump’s effort to reshape how America tells its history.

There is much to celebrate in this country, and debate over history is natural. Historians argue, interpretations change, and new evidence emerges. But starting with the conclusion that America must look good and then filtering facts accordingly is different and dangerous.

In March 2025, Trump issued an executive order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.” The administration argued that recent interpretations had replaced objective history with an ideological narrative portraying the United States as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or irredeemably flawed. The order directed federal historical sites to avoid content that “inappropriately disparage[s]” Americans and to focus on national achievements and progress.

That criticism deserves consideration.

Museums can be selective, ideological, and wrong, too. But the remedy for one-sided history is better history, not government-directed history that leads to a preferred conclusion. A history museum’s purpose is to help us understand what happened, not to make us feel good or bad.

Trump later complained that the Smithsonian was “OUT OF CONTROL” and focused excessively on “how bad Slavery was” rather than American “Success” and “Brightness.”

The dispute has since intensified. In July 2026, Trump issued another order, “Restoring Trust in the Smithsonian Institution,” pressing for changes at the National Museum of American History. In September, the administration threatened to curtail federal agencies’ support for the Smithsonian, including artifact loans, procurement assistance, and discretionary grants.

The campaign extends beyond the Smithsonian. A court-ordered inventory found that the National Park Service had removed at least 51 exhibits from 37 sites, including material about slavery and climate change. A federal judge ordered the exhibits restored, but the administration appealed.

This illustrates the danger. When inconvenient facts are softened or removed because they conflict with an officially preferred national narrative, public history shifts from inquiry to persuasion. When the government decides in advance which conclusions citizens should draw, persuasion can become propaganda.

Propaganda does more than distort the past. It limits what we can do tomorrow. Those who cannot admit mistakes cannot learn. A company convinced that it’s a 10 stops improving. A country taught that acknowledging failure is unpatriotic risks losing democracy’s most vital capacity: self-correction.

There is a revealing contradiction in Trump’s most famous slogan: Make America Great Again. MAGA acknowledges that America can lose its way and needs repair. But “again” points backward, tempting us to polish the past until it shines.

American exceptionalism need not mean American infallibility. The United States was an extraordinary political experiment, founded on ideas of representative government, liberty, and individual rights that inspired people around the world. Taking those ideals seriously requires examining the times the country betrayed them.

The Founders themselves were hardly unanimous about their country’s moral condition. At the Constitutional Convention, Gouverneur Morris called slavery a “nefarious institution” and “the curse of heaven” on the states where it prevailed. George Mason, himself a slaveholder, warned that “Providence punishes national sins, by national calamities.” Yet the Constitution compromised with slavery.

That does not reduce the founding to hypocrisy. It shows that people can accomplish great things even while tolerating profound injustice. Later generations inherit both the achievements and the unfinished work.

The Marquis de Lafayette understood that distinction. When Lafayette returned to the United States in 1824 as a celebrated hero of the Revolution, he remained devoted to the American experiment—and opposed to slavery. At Monticello, Israel Jefferson, an enslaved man who worked there, later recalled hearing Lafayette argue that enslaved people ought to be free and that no man could rightfully own his “brother man.”

Lafayette had risked his life for America. Challenging one of its greatest injustices did not make him hostile to the country. It meant he took its principles seriously.

Honest history explains American progress; it does not diminish America.

Give us Washington, the leader and slaveholder; Jefferson’s Declaration and his failures; westward expansion and its cost to Native Americans; Normandy and Jim Crow.

If America was always a 10, what exactly were all those Americans fighting to change?

Abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights marchers, reformers, and ordinary citizens did not make America less American by exposing the gap between ideals and reality. Much of what we celebrate as progress came because they refused to pretend the country had already arrived.

The Constitution does not proclaim a perfect Union. Its preamble speaks instead of forming “a more perfect Union.” Those two words matter. More perfect means unfinished. Improvement is possible. Tomorrow can be better because we recognize what was wrong with yesterday.

That chairman’s assertion stayed with me because it violated something I have come to believe about successful organizations, people, and countries. The moment you convince yourself you are a 10 is often the moment you stop improving.

America does not need to be told it has always been perfect. It needs honest history that shows what it accomplished and what Americans had to struggle to change.

That is not a rejection of America’s story. It is how the story keeps moving forward.

Honesty Is Not the Same as Transparency

When I taught strategic communication at NYU, I emphasized a principle that is more misunderstood than ever: always be honest, but don’t assume you must disclose everything. Honesty is an ethical duty; openness is a matter of judgment.

That distinction matters in politics, business, and daily life. It is even more crucial in government, where leaders handle private, sensitive, or consequential information. Public officials should tell the truth, but avoid revealing everything on impulse.

Donald Trump has long blurred that line. He and his defenders equate indiscriminate disclosure with authenticity, as if speaking publicly automatically makes a statement honest, brave, or transparent. It does not. Recklessness is not candor, and indiscretion is not openness. Neither deserves applause.

Two recent episodes highlight this issue. They are not merely examples of poor taste or sloppy leadership; they reflect a deeper confusion about the true nature of honesty.

Earlier this spring, Trump publicly disclosed highly personal medical information about Rep. Neal Dunn of Florida. He said Dunn had been told he would be “dead by June.” Speaker Mike Johnson quickly cut in: “OK, that wasn’t public.” Reports confirmed Trump had revealed information that had not been public before.

The issue is not whether Trump was factually correct. Even if he was, the disclosure is not admirable. A president does not become more truthful by exposing someone else’s private medical crisis; doing so shows a lack of restraint, empathy, and judgment – not honesty. Telling the truth does not grant a license to violate every boundary.

The second example is more troubling because it involved military operations. At a White House briefing on the rescue of a downed American airman in Iran, Trump asked Joint Chiefs Chairman Gen. Dan Caine how many personnel had participated. Caine tried to prevent disclosure, responding, “I’d love to keep that a secret, Mr. President.” Trump persisted, saying it involved “hundreds and hundreds” of people. Media outlets described the exchange and the concerns about revealing sensitive operational details.

Again, the problem is not lying but rather the performance of candor without the discipline required of real leadership. The public deserves to know why a military action was taken, whether it was lawful, what it cost, the risks, and the possible outcomes. That does not mean, however, that a president should brush aside a general seeking to protect sensitive details in real time.

This is where the conversation often goes astray. Transparency does not mean total disclosure. The government should be open about decisions, motives, policies, and the use of power, but it should not treat privacy, confidentiality, or security as expendable. Mature honesty requires discretion.

We recognize this principle in every serious aspect of life. A doctor is expected to tell the truth without exposing a patient’s private condition. A lawyer must be candid without violating privilege. A friend should be honest without betraying a confidence just to appear blunt or “authentic.” The same standard should apply in public office: not every fact belongs on a podium, in a briefing room, or in a president’s improvisation.

Trump’s admirers often mistake his lack of filter for proof of authenticity. When he speaks impulsively, they label it as courage. When he is indiscreet, they interpret it as transparency. However, honesty is not about the volume or frequency of disclosure – it rests on whether what is said is true, responsible, and appropriate for the moment.

That was the lesson I tried to teach my students. As a country, we must reclaim it. Truth matters, and so does judgment. In public life, truth without judgment is not integrity – it is carelessness masquerading as virtue.

X Has a Free Speech Problem — and I'm Living It

X recently suspended my account for “violating our rules against inauthentic behaviors.” That was the entirety of the explanation. X cited no specific post, identified no pattern of misconduct, and offered no definition of what, precisely, it considered inauthentic about my activity. There was no warning. I appealed, asked for specifics, and followed up. I received nothing in return. X’s own policies state that its authenticity rules target manipulation through fake accounts, coordinated behavior, and deceptive content — and that users may appeal suspensions made in error. In my case, the appeals process has led nowhere.

That silence should concern more than just me.

I was not impersonating anyone, using bots, running fake accounts, purchasing engagement, concealing my identity, or orchestrating any coordinated campaign. I posted under my own name, in my own voice, on matters of public concern. (You can still see my news and views on Threads.)

I also created images lampooning the president. After Trump decried the cost and design of the Obama library — and after renderings emerged of his planned library skyscraper-hotel-marina-event space complex — I created a parody concept for a “Trump Presidential Library.” 

The post that appears to have triggered the suspension was a Trump-as-George-Washington cartoon captioned “I cannot tell a lie. Biden did it,” accompanied by commentary on the erosion of accountability and democratic norms.

That is called political speech. It is also called satire. Both have been protected forms of expression in democratic societies for centuries. And both were, by any reasonable definition, plainly authentic.

The contradiction is difficult to ignore. X accused me of “inauthentic behaviors” — yet every post was written under my own name, expressed my own views, and linked to my own commentary or clearly recognizable parody. Meanwhile, the broader ecosystem of political media on that same platform routinely carries content that is racist, threatening, dehumanizing, or incendiary.

Consider the record. The same platform that suspended me for political satire has hosted presidential posts threatening to annihilate an entire civilization, profane ultimatums directed at foreign governments, and language that, from any other account, would almost certainly trigger enforcement. The enforcement gap is not a matter of interpretation. It is a matter of record.

I condemned disinformation about vaccines, wrote about the politicization and demonization of science, criticized cuts to education and research, and voiced concerns about attacks on the news media and the degradation of truth in public life. Trump and many of his allies, by contrast, have normalized language that casts journalists as “enemies of the people,” opponents as “traitors,” and entire communities as threats — language that sits comfortably on the platform, uncontested and unenforced, and that routinely edges to the boundary of criminal incitement without quite crossing it.

Elon Musk acquired X with a promise to make it a more open arena for public expression. That promise deserves scrutiny when a real person, posting under his own name, can be suspended for political criticism and satire — and then offered nothing but silence in response. “Free speech” as a platform value cannot be selectively applied based on whose speech is at issue.

This is not a customer-service complaint. It is a question about who gets to speak in the defining public forum of our time — and who decides.

X is among the most consequential communications platforms in public life. Politicians use it to shape narratives, announce policy, and dominate news cycles. Journalists use it to report, distribute, and break news. Researchers and experts use it to interpret events in real time. X is, of course, a private company, and the First Amendment constrains government action — not the moderation decisions of private platforms. But that legal distinction does not end the inquiry. When a sitting president uses social media as a de facto channel of governance, and when participation in that public square can be revoked through vague accusations and opaque processes, platform governance becomes a matter of legitimate democratic concern.

Many people responded to my suspension by saying I was better off without it — that X has become a cesspool, that suspension is practically a badge of honor. I understood the sentiment. But that response, however satisfying, concedes too much. It accepts that a platform of this consequence can suppress lawful political opinion without evidence, without explanation, and without recourse — and that the appropriate response is simply to walk away.

Platforms have a genuine responsibility to remove spam, fraud, threats, harassment, and coordinated manipulation. No serious person disputes that. But when a platform accuses a user of “inauthentic behaviors,” it should be able to identify the conduct, cite the specific post, explain which rule was violated, and provide a genuine review process. Without that, policy becomes pretext, enforcement becomes theater, and whatever trust remains evaporates.

If a platform this powerful can silence lawful political speech this casually — with no justification, no process, and no accountability — the consequences extend well beyond any single user. For businesses, journalists, researchers, and policymakers who depend on X as a channel of record, the absence of due process is not a minor inconvenience. It is a societal risk. Platforms that want to be treated as essential public infrastructure must be held to the governance standards that come with that role.

This article also appears in O’Dywer’s PR. 

Update, April 20, 2026: Well, it ended the way it started – without warning or explanation. The suspension is over. The point of my article remains the same, of course. 

Calling All Optimists

The canary in the coal mine of free speech has died. We are living in dangerous times for truth. 

The American public square is under attack – not just from misinformation and propaganda, but also from systemic forces that seek to silence dissent, control what we hear, and limit the scope of legitimate debate. 

If optimism means believing change is possible, then today, optimism requires courage. This is a call to those who still believe facts matter, who refuse to give in to despair, and who want to face what is happening honestly. Your ideas and perspectives are needed.

The New Reality: Power, Pressure, and Fear

You probably heard that Disney’s ABC abruptly pulled Jimmy Kimmel Live off the air after his comments about the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk. The decision was made quickly after the FCC chair threatened fines and license reviews for broadcasters who aired what he called “distorted” content. Nexstar, which owns 32 ABC affiliates and is seeking regulatory approval for a multibillion-dollar acquisition, proactively stopped airing the show.

Only weeks earlier, CBS canceled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, officially citing financial reasons. Yet many pointed out the timing: Reports indicated that political and corporate pressures influenced the decision because of the impending Paramount-Skydance merger.

These are not minor programming changes. These actions go beyond being a pattern or signal. They are the predicted outcomes from the Project 2025 playbook. 

Some will argue that this is no different from ABC’s 2018 decision to cancel “Roseanne” after Roseanne Barr posted a racist tweet about former Obama adviser Valerie Jarrett. But don’t fall for this false equivalency, this form of whataboutism. In Barr’s case, the network acted in direct response to a personal racist outburst from its star, behavior that violated company policy and alienated advertisers. In the current situations with Colbert and Kimmel, comedians are being removed not for violating standards of decency but for satirizing those in power. One involves private accountability for bigotry; the other involves political pressure and corporate leverage to silence dissent. Do not conflate the two; it only serves to erode our ability to discern real threats to free expression.

It’s not new, of course. From the start of his first campaign, Donald Trump has frequently called the mainstream press “the enemy of the people.” He has threatened to revoke licenses, sue outlets into silence, and openly praised actions that remove critical voices from the airwaves. 

This is not just mere bluster; it reflects an ongoing strategy to undermine independent journalism and weaken the institutions that mediate truth. If the President can decide what content is “distorted,” what is “garbage,” or what qualifies as “radical,” and if regulators and corporations act accordingly, then the line between governance and censorship has already begun to disappear.

The Battlegrounds of Truth

If there is a chance to preserve our Constitution, restore democratic values, bridge the deepening chasm between left and right, and combat the increasing incivility infecting our country, we must at a minimum, have plans and commit resources to fight mis/disinformation and propaganda. 

This is where the community of optimists must come together and find some solutions. No one can solve this on their own. Right now, I have four strategic imperatives and a lot of questions.

Invest in education and media literacy. But how can this be done when government is defunding public education, dismantling resources, and actively attempting the elimination of the Department of Education? How can media literacy flourish when the very structures that support critical thinking are being eroded?

Support independent journalism. But how can this be achieved when newsroom employment has dropped by more than a quarter since 2008, when hundreds of local communities have become “news deserts,” and when media ownership is increasingly concentrated in partisan corporations or wealthy individuals? When “both sides” rhetoric or “everyone’s biased” framing dominates (False Equivalencies: The Danger of Treating All Information Equally), lies are elevated to the same plane as facts.

Debunk falsehoods effectively. But how can we do this when the number of professional journalists and fact-checkers has fallen sharply, and when falsehoods travel faster and further online than carefully reported truths? As cognitive linguist George Lakoff argues, what people believe to be true can outweigh what is demonstrably true. 

Increase transparency on social media. But how can this happen when platforms are controlled by highly partisan owners and global corporations, when algorithms are hidden, and when accountability mechanisms are weak or nonexistent?

The Cost of Silence

We are closer than some realize to a media ecosystem defined not by freedom but by fear, not by evidence but by power. The decline of independent journalism, the weaponization of regulatory agencies, the concentration of media ownership, and the replacement of truth with belief all point in one direction: a society where public discourse no longer functions. 

Today’s optimism does not mean ignoring these dangers. It means refusing to look away, confronting the reality before us, and demanding accountability. The question is not whether the crisis is coming. It is already here. The question is what we, the citizens, do in response? 

Please respond.

False Equivalencies: The Danger of Treating All Information Equally

False equivalencies—presenting two sides of an argument as if they hold equal merit, even when one side is not grounded in facts—erode public discourse and trust. Whether in discussions about climate change, vaccine safety, or political violence, this action has damaging consequences for how the public engages with science, policy, and reality.

They’ve always been a pet peeve, but I was especially irritated when I read Malcolm Gladwell's interview with The New York Times about his new book, Revenge of the Tipping Point. At first, I was delighted when he said, “I don’t have any great hesitation about saying I was wrong. If you’re reading a book that is 25 years old, stuff should be wrong. If you don’t recognize that the world has changed in 25 years, there’s something wrong with you.”

I couldn’t agree more. The world constantly shifts, and we must adapt our thinking to new evidence and circumstances. Gladwell’s humility in admitting his mistakes is refreshing, particularly in today’s polarized climate, where admitting fault is often seen as a weakness. 

It’s what he said later that troubled me: “People increasingly want uncurated expertise. Now does that sometimes create problems? Yeah, a lot of people didn’t take the Covid vaccine that should have and died as a result. That’s really unfortunate. I am fully aware of what happens when you let a thousand flowers bloom. But I’m also aware that there is at times something beautiful about the fact that we are opening up access to people in a way we never did before.”

Unfortunate? It was tragic. It was political and medical malpractice. Millions died.

Yes, access to ideas is crucial, but without proper vetting or curation, it becomes dangerously easy for disinformation and propaganda to spread unchecked. The challenge is to balance the need for open dialogue with the responsibility to prevent the amplification of dangerous or unfounded claims.

The Politicization of Science

One of the most disheartening trends I’ve observed over the past few years is the politicization of science to the point of toxicity. A discipline rooted in creativity, curiosity, and fact-finding has become demonized; science is openly ridiculed, trivialized, and held in contempt. If not checked and reversed, this will have a growing impact on discovery, education, public health, and US competitiveness. 

The idea of “trusting the science” is under attack. Public confidence in science—particularly biomedical science—has declined significantly since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. A 2023 Pew Research Center survey revealed that only 27% of Republicans/lean Republican and 43% of Democrats/lean Democrat citizens have a great deal of confidence that medical scientists will act in the public’s best interest. This erosion of trust is partly due to the failure to communicate the evolving nature of scientific knowledge.

Science, by its nature, is fallible and self-correcting. It evolves as new evidence emerges. This is its greatest strength, but to the public, it can often seem like inconsistency or unreliability. This was evident during the pandemic when evolving guidance on social distancing, mask-wearing, and vaccines was often met with confusion and skepticism. 

Dr. Francis Collins, former director of the National Institutes of Health, has expressed regret that officials didn’t adequately convey that recommendations would evolve as new information emerged during the pandemic. This failure to communicate the provisional nature of scientific knowledge only deepened public distrust. For many, the changing advice felt like dishonesty rather than the natural course of scientific discovery. This misunderstanding about the nature of science created a breeding ground for conspiracy theories and misinformation.

And it will not get better. Not in the next four years, anyway. The public should be angry, even terrified, that objective science will be scrapped if Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. and the like-minded are confirmed by the US Senate and assume roles of enormous national and global consequence.

Social media platforms have given, should I say, a booster shot to the amplification of numerous scientific falsehoods. Elon Musk’s behavior on his X (formerly Twitter) is particularly troubling. According to a recent New York Times analysis, nearly a third of Musk’s posts in a five-day period were found to be false or misleading. X enables conspiracy theories and misinformation to spread unchecked. While Musk claims to support free speech, the reality is that false information spreads faster and reaches more people than the truth. Even when others attempt to correct the record, a debunked conspiracy post sits alongside a credible one, and for many people, it all looks the same.

Reclaiming the Narrative 

The public’s trust in science shouldn’t rest on believing in specific experts or static truths; rather, it should be grounded in understanding the scientific process itself. As Dr. Art Caplan, the head of Medical Ethics at NYU Langone Medical Center, explained, trust in science requires belief not only in the message but in the process that generates it. Caplan argued that scientists need to better explain their work with accessible language, relevant examples, and local engagement through schools, community organizations, and grassroots efforts. This is key to rebuilding public confidence.

I used to believe that presenting solid evidence would be enough to convince people of the facts. But I’ve come to understand that facts alone are not enough when false equivalencies dominate the conversation. The truth is that not all opinions deserve the same weight.

At the same time, we must hold those with power and influence accountable. Whether it’s Elon Musk spreading false information or Malcolm Gladwell embracing uncurated content, the truth matters. If we cannot differentiate between what is factual and what is false, we are in serious trouble.

So yes, I agree with Gladwell that more voices should be heard, but I cannot follow him down the path of always accepting unfiltered content as part of the solution. If anything, we need to take more care and responsibility in communicating the facts. Because right now, the stakes are too high to get this wrong.

Presidential Humor: 2024 Edition

Next to power without honor, the most dangerous thing in the world is power without humor. – Eric Sevareid

The only thing I found humorous about a recent NYT opinion piece called Trump Is Losing the Humor War was the title. OK, it’s more ironic than funny because the whole thing implied that Trump was winning the humor war at some point.

The author, Professor Leif Weatherby at NYU, wrote, “Over the past decade, there’s one truth that liberals have been loath to admit: Donald Trump is funny. …when you watch him at a rally, you can see he’s playing for laughs: jabbing at his opponents[…].”

Here’s the problem: playing for laughs does not always equate to being funny. Being funny is to amuse, to be comical. Hurling insults, making sarcastic comments, or mocking others are not humorous. They’re, well, insulting, sarcastic, and mocking; all of it is at the expense of others. Trump might be “playing for laughs,” but it is not through humor. 

Also problematic is the professor’s critique of the other side of the political spectrum. “The Democrats have been many things over the last few decades, but funny has rarely been one of them,” he said.

That right there is funny. In my 2011 book Camelot, Inc., I remarked that Democrats had humor pretty well sewn up. Look at the vast majority of stand-up comics and the long-standing successes of figures like John Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Republicans, on the other hand, are masters of fear and anger. 

I agree with Professor Weatherby’s statement that “There’s something interesting about humor: We don’t get to choose what’s funny.” In a 2016 article, I wrote, “Be careful with humor in serious times. What’s funny to you may not be funny to someone else. It comes down to knowing your audience and having some compassion.” Compassion, like humor, is not one of 45’s strong suits.

Dr. Weatherby spoke about acknowledging the “truth.” But the truth is subjective. My truth about what’s funny, artistic, or cool will be the same for some and different for others. Facts and data, however, are not. Trump advisor Kellyanne Conway blew many minds when she said White House press secretary Sean Spicer “gave alternative facts” about the inauguration crowd size during a 2017 interview on Meet the Press. Host Chuck Todd responded, “Alternative facts are not facts; they’re falsehoods.” 

Will jokes or the manifestations of humor – Harris’ belly laugh or Trump’s happy dance – change any votes? Probably few, if any. Humor is a component of who we are; it’s one pixel in a complex picture. But there’s no doubt it’s essential. Michael J. Fox said, “I think the scariest person in the world is the person with no sense of humor,” and Robert Frost noted, “If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.”

No Easy Fix: Opinion and Belief vs. Facts and Truth

We’ve all experienced the feeling. Our hopes get raised and then... splat. No payoff. No satisfaction. 

I got excited when I saw the title of Adam Grant’s recent article, “The Science of Reasoning With Unreasonable People,” published in The New York Times. Could “motivational interviewing” help win over people who choose beliefs, faith, and opinions over facts? What wonderful news! We need a breakthrough when it comes to persuading people to accept the facts around a host of science-based issues including climate change and vaccine safety. 

Alas, it was not to be. In one example detailed in the article, an intensive effort managed to get an anti-vaxxer from negative to, well, a tiny bit less negative. At the end of his piece, there was a tinge of resignation. Grant wrote, “All I can do is try to understand their thinking and ask if they’re open to some rethinking. The rest is up to them.”

All I can do? There has to be more, right? 

It turns out that motivational interviewing might have a limited role in addressing the vaccine hesitancy of some new mothers. A study cited in the article demonstrated a seven percent (statistically significant) increase in vaccination coverage in a subset of infants. While a good outcome, the authors recognized a number of study design limitations. And in actual practice, there’s a huge amount of ground to gain.

The chasm between hard data and belief exists because facts don’t matter to a big chunk of the population. We’ve known this for years. If facts were all it took, we’d be done: People wouldn’t smoke cigarettes, abuse drugs, be racist, or refuse to wear motorcycle or bicycle helmets. If the facts don’t fit the person’s worldview or “frame,” as the cognitive linguist George Lakoff terms it, the facts bounce off like bullets shot at Superman’s chest. Your challenger deflects all the information while you get blue in the face.

So, it’s clear that information and insight by themselves don’t produce change. It’s the desire to change and seeing the value in change that drives us forward. 

One desire killer is inertia. We’ve heard the excuse: “That’s the way we’ve always done things.” There may be no consequences: “Who’s going to notice, who’s going to care?” We may feel powerless: “I don’t have the resources, I don’t have the access.”

A second drag on change is simple ignorance and, on this issue, I’m having déjà vu. I wrote about “Swine Flu's Teachable Moment” nearly a dozen years ago: “It was disturbing to read about a growing public health threat in "Vaccine Refusal, Mandatory Immunization, and the Risks of Vaccine-Preventable Diseases" in this week's New England Journal of Medicine (Omer et al.). The bottom line is that there is a critical need for new education and policy efforts to protect children (sometimes from their own parents) and the general public.”

Dr. Marijn Dekkers, former CEO of Bayer and former Chairman of Unilever, pointed out at financial conference several years back, “Even the most outstanding ideas and scientific breakthroughs have no chance if people do not accept, appreciate and support them. All too often, people are afraid of – or uneasy about – new ideas, inventions, processes or products.” Dropping information – even crucial or compelling data – onto the heads of an unprepared public, or expecting a response to another “call to action,” is unproductive and unrealistic.

We’re in this situation partly because our science literacy is abysmal. The United States ranks 18th out of 78 countries, according to the most recent analysis by the National Center for Education Statistics. China, Estonia, Japan, Korea, Canada, Poland, Slovenia, UK, Netherlands, and Germany are among those ahead of us.

And it’s an even bigger issue than the public health or economic competitiveness. Poor science literacy can eat at the core of our democracy. Professor Jon D. Miller (now at the University of Michigan) told The New York Times in 2005 that “…people’s inability to understand basic scientific concepts undermines their ability to take part in the democratic process.” He continued that for so many issues affecting society, "if you don't know a little science [it’s] hard to follow these debates. A lot of journalism [will] not make sense to you."

It’s not a problem that can be addressed by a one-year budget cycle or even a five or ten-year plan. It will take a generational blueprint that needs to be comprehensive, coordinated, and well capitalized in order to see a return on the investment. Let’s get started.

Between posts, I invite you to follow me @pauoestreicher.

Three Steps to Save the Presidential Debates

While the president was demanding a fourth debate with his challenger, an opinion piece in The New York Times suggested that debates be scrapped altogether. Yes, the debates have certainly devolved over the years but this is a classic “throw the baby out with the bathwater” reaction. Let’s fix them instead. Here are three changes to elevate the debates and increase their value to the public:

 

1. Ditch the audience. In her NYT piece, Elizabeth Drew wrote that debates were less about conveying a vision or a plan than they were about upstaging the opponent. “Points went to snappy comebacks and one-liners. Witty remarks drew laughs from the audience and got repeated for days and remembered for years,” she said. She’s not wrong, of course. But it’s the debate format that has helped to create the reality TV atmosphere. The candidates have been playing to the audience; they look for applause or a laugh. Let’s get serious and let’s remove the audience. The point might be made moot because of the pandemic this year but the editorial board of The Washington Post recently endorsed this idea, calling the debates “quip contests.” We’ll gain time, engagement, and potentially more substantive responses. 

 

2. Level the field. I mean this literally. The candidates should be seated, anchored to their chairs. The freewheeling Town Hall format, where the candidates roam the stage, should be banned. In 2016, candidate Trump tried to intimidate Secretary Clinton when he alternated between standing and pacing back-and-forth behind her. Clinton said he was breathing down her neck, which made her feel "incredibly uncomfortable." Politico magazine called it "the ugliest debate ever seen." Pressing a physical advantage – bullying – must not be allowed. And having the candidates seated will also help mitigate any height discrimination, or “heightism,” where taller people are perceived to be stronger, and better leaders.

 

3. Check the facts. A consequence of our glorious First Amendment is that political speech is highly protected – essentially any half-truth or lie may be told. While there are plenty of post-debate analyses, it’s too late. Many viewers tune-out after the practiced smiles and forced handshakes. And our brains tend to cling to misinformation even after it's been refuted. We need real time (or near real time) fact checking. If IBM's Watson computer can win at Jeopardy!, why can't we get an indication of veracity while the debate is still in progress? Let’s use technology to help the experts sift through speech transcripts and testimony; almanacs and atlases; laws, regulations and policy statements; credible survey data, and non-partisan news articles, journals, and research reports. Let’s help ensure the public gets the facts and not the flimflam.

 

While we’re more polarized than ever and fewer people are undecided, more information, more opportunity for side-by-side comparison, is still crucial to the democratic process. In a society that’s increasingly stressed by the health and economic consequences of COVID-19, systemic racism, and so many other issues, political discussion can be dispiriting, infuriating, and sometimes incendiary. But, as Ray Bradbury wrote in Fahrenheit 451, “If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none.”

Between blog posts, I invite you to follow me @pauloestreicher.

Who Can Win the Battle for Truth?

This article also appears in Medium.

We’re fighting over the truth in the news media, at home, at work, and in the halls of Congress. And the battle carries over to our institutions of higher education with sides taken over free speech and academic freedom.

President John F. Kennedy said, “The goal of education is the advancement of knowledge and the dissemination of truth.” So, it seems appropriate that Cornell University recently held a symposium entitled, “Universities and the Search for Truth.”¹

Why does this all seem more urgent today? Humans have always been truth-challenged. Ancient conquerors frequently rewrote history. The Bible is filled with stories of deception. Some countries, institutions and industries exist on the clever use of propaganda.

The truth is the amount of what we call information is expanding wildly, and spread in more ways and with greater consequences than ever before. The rise of the internet and consumer-generated content, pressures on professional journalism, and our reliance on social media channels and their complex algorithms all influence what we see, hear, believe and share.

Add these modern issues to Friedrich Nietzsche’s declaration that “There are no facts, only interpretations” and we have a gray, goopy and potentially grave mess. Echoing the reality of truth’s plasticity, Professor David Shalloway at the symposium said, “Data can be true or false, but knowledge is usually only an approximation.” And Professor Holly Prigerson voiced a similar view: “Truth is not an absolute thing. It’s not binary, and it’s on a continuum.”

Our judicial system recognizes our inclination to manipulate the facts into a self-satisfying truth when we’re asked to “tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” As much as the words matter, though, Professor Sarah Murray said, “Language itself doesn’t ensure the truth or reliability of information. It’s how we use language and communication and who’s using the language that are judgments about that.” Most people understand this – the messenger can increase or decrease the credibility of the message.

While the literature carries many comparisons between strategic communication and war – offense and defense, knowing your opponent, hearts and minds, etc. – Professor Mor Naaman acknowledged his talk was particularly “dark” and “grim.” “Modern media technology is killing truth and knowledge,” he said. “Instead, our technology emphasizes only information and emotion.” He added that social media is a “well tuned and optimized machine that plays exactly” to our biologically, psychologically and evolutionarily wired sense of emotion, not truth or knowledge.

You can see how fear and anger are being used as platforms for persuasion but we can use this insight on emotion toward a more favorable purpose. The most effective, enduring way to communicate is to link fact and emotion through the use of examples, imagery and storytelling. And the language needs to be relevant; context is required. A famous wrongful death case involving drug side effects was lost well before the conclusion of all the testimony. “We didn’t know what the heck they were talking about,” a juror told The Wall Street Journal.²

Yet, a problem remains in how we receive information. We hear about algorithms making viewing choices for us – the creation of echo chambers. The algorithms are sometimes called filters but they are not. They curate but also isolate. They homogenize, not cross-fertilize.

The symposium panel offered some fixes: Educate students on the ethical, philosophical and social issues of technology; study how technology can create misinformation and biases; create new curricula, and focus new research on these issues. While important, they are long-term solutions and it’s unclear how the findings would be applied widely.

We need equal attention on smaller, shorter-term initiatives. So, let’s stipulate that the truth is subjective and focus instead on the starter material – the objective facts – since these are frequently denied or called into doubt. In addition to the earlier call for using relevant language in describing the facts and connecting these to resonant emotions, we should consider the following:

Push to end false equivalency and the conflation of opinion with fact. If 97 percent of climate scientists agree on human causes for climate change, we should not see one-on-one debates. News organizations and social media news feeds should present the available, accurate data but must differentiate between fact and opinion.

Overwhelm the bad with the good. More experts need to speak out and share the facts to help push inaccurate information down the internet search list. The Alan Alda Center for Communicating Science at Stony Brook University is one of a growing number of programs tackling how to communicate complex information in more understandable, relevant ways.

Get there first. False or misleading statements are terribly difficult to retract and, harder still, to erase from one’s memory. In a study of nearly 900 participants, researchers showed “the repetition of tentative news stories, even if they are subsequently disconfirmed, can assist in the creation of false memories in a substantial proportion of people.”³ The bottom line is that people may continue to rely on misinformation even when a subsequent retraction is made and remembered.

Use technology to advance real time fact checking. We can’t rely on a reporter’s memory or ability to interrupt a guest to check the facts. The idea for a “Truth Meter” was raised at the symposium and it was reported last week that two Penn State professors received a grant from the National Science Foundation to develop technology to identify and exclude “fake news” on digital platforms.⁴ If IBM's Watson computer can win at Jeopardy!, there's no reason that (nearly) real time fact checking couldn't be a reality. We should explore the potential for machines to sift through transcripts, proceedings and testimony; almanacs and atlases; laws, regulations and policy statements; credible survey data, and peer-reviewed research reports.

These efforts will be successful only if our institutions – and society at large – do more to promote and enforce honesty, and venerate intellectual exploration. I keep reading about our “hyper-connected world.” But in these connections we need hyper-vigilance for the facts. Perhaps then we’ll have an easier time searching for truth.

I invite you to follow me on Twitter @pauloestreicher.

1.     Cornell University. “Academic Symposium: Universities and the Search for Truth.” August 24, 2017. https://www.cornell.edu/video/academic-symposium-universities-search-for-truth.

2.     Tesoriero, H.W., et al., “Merck Loss Jolts Drug Giant, Industry,” The Wall Street Journal, August 22, 2005.

3.     Lewandowsky, S., et al., “Memory for Fact, Fiction, and Misinformation” (2005), Psychological Science, 16(3):190-195.

4.     Associated Press. “Penn State Professors Get Grant for ‘Fake News’ Detector.” August 31, 2017. https://apnews.com/e1b353e9e62f4e4096e419c13b061750/Professors-get-$300,000-grant-for-digital-fake-news-detector.