The Hysterical Truth About Truth

Truth is the slippery animal everyone claims to own while feeding it whatever scraps fit their plate. Here it is, my truth; laid out, flayed, and occasionally laughed at because anything else would be dishonest.

Truth Is Not a Natural Resource

It’s a Manufactured Object with Good PR

Truth likes to cosplay as a cosmic constant. Something like gravity. Ancient. Neutral. Floating around the universe waiting to be discovered by brave philosophers with beards or scientists in white coats.

That fantasy is comforting. It lets us sleep at night.

It is also nonsense.

Truth is not a natural element of our lives. It does not rain down. It does not grow wild. It is not oxygen. You do not “find” it the way you find a rock or a fossil.

Truth is made.

Assembled.

Framed.

Maintained.

Repaired when it cracks.

Rebranded when it starts to smell.

Truth is a conscious creation.

And yes, most of the time, whoever controls the narrative builds it. But that sentence alone is too neat. Too clean. Too Instagram-ready. Reality, as usual, is messier and more embarrassing.

Let’s ruin the illusion properly.

The Lie We Tell Ourselves About Truth

We like to imagine truth as a fixed point and lies as deviations. As if the world comes with a built-in instruction manual and liars just scribble in the margins.

In practice, it’s the opposite.

Most of what we call “truth” is an agreement. A social contract. A collective nod. A mass shrug that says, fine, we’ll go with this version.

Truth survives not because it’s accurate, but because it’s convenient, emotionally satisfying, or structurally useful.

Accuracy is optional. Utility is mandatory.

This is why truths change without the universe blinking. Yesterday’s scientific truth becomes today’s outdated theory. Yesterday’s moral truth becomes today’s scandal. Yesterday’s unquestionable fact becomes tomorrow’s embarrassing footnote.

If truth were cosmic, it wouldn’t need updates.

Narrative Is the Skeleton Key

Narrative doesn’t decorate truth. It creates the container that truth can exist in at all.

Facts without narrative are inert. They sit there like unused furniture. Narrative is what gives facts direction, hierarchy, meaning, and emotional charge.

Ask yourself this:
How many facts does it take to tell a truth?

Answer: as many as support the story being told, and not one more.

The rest are politely ignored, aggressively mocked, or labelled “irrelevant.”

Narrative decides:

what counts as important
what gets repeated
what becomes invisible
what feels obvious
what feels insane

This is not a conspiracy. It’s a function.

Human brains are not truth detectors. They are coherence machines. We prefer a story that makes sense over a reality that doesn’t.

You want facts? Here.

Hysterical Example #1: The Office Microwave Incident

An office. A microwave. A fish.

Someone microwaves fish at 12:07 PM. The smell spreads like a biological weapon.

Now observe how truth forms.

Version A:
“Someone microwaved fish. That is what happened.”

Version B:
“Someone microwaved fish knowing it would torture everyone.”

Version C:
“Someone microwaved fish because they are selfish and probably a bad person in other areas too.”

Version D:
“Management allows this kind of behaviour, which proves the company does not care about us.”

No new facts were introduced after Version A. Just narrative layering.

By the end of lunch, the truth is no longer about fish. It’s about respect, power, culture, and silent rage.

Truth wasn’t discovered. It was constructed in real time by consensus and resentment.

Power Doesn’t Create Truth, It Stabilises It

Yes, those with power shape narratives. But power doesn’t invent truth from nothing. It selects, amplifies, and locks it in place.

Power turns a fragile story into a durable one.

That’s an important distinction.

A truth without power is a rumour.
A truth with power is a reality.

Institutions don’t lie constantly. They don’t need to. They just repeat certain truths until alternatives feel unserious.

Control the repetition, control the truth.

This is why propaganda works best when it’s boring.

Drama invites scrutiny. Boredom invites acceptance.

Hysterical Example #2: “We’ve Always Done It This Way”

Somewhere, a meeting is happening.

A terrible process is questioned.

Someone clears their throat and says, “We’ve always done it this way.”

Instant truth.

No evidence required. No logic demanded. The past becomes proof. Longevity becomes legitimacy.

The truth here is not that the process is good. The truth is that challenging it costs social energy, and most people would rather be quietly wrong than visibly difficult.

Truth survives because resistance is inconvenient.

Personal Truth Is Not More Sacred. It’s Just Smaller.

We like to elevate “personal truth” as if it’s purer. As if subjectivity redeems construction.

It doesn’t.

Personal truth is still a narrative. Just one with fewer witnesses and more emotional investment.

Memory edits itself constantly. Identity ret-cons its own history. People rewrite their past not to deceive others, but to remain psychologically coherent.

Ask someone to describe a breakup that happened ten years ago. You’ll get a myth, not a record.

Everyone is the protagonist. Everyone was reasonable. Everyone tried their best.

Truth is not what happened. Truth is what can be lived with.

Hysterical Example #3: The Gym Membership Delusion

January 3rd.

The gym is full.

Everyone has a truth:
“I am someone who works out.”

March 14th.

The gym is empty.

New truth:
“I’m just busy right now.”

April 2nd.

Final truth:
“I was never really a gym person.”

Same person. Same facts. Three incompatible truths, all sincerely believed at the time.

Truth didn’t change because reality changed. It changed because self-image demanded it.

Science Is Not the Enemy of This Argument

Science does not claim eternal truth. That’s religion’s branding problem.

Science offers provisional models that survive until better ones replace them.

The tragedy is that people treat scientific conclusions as moral certainties, then feel betrayed when they evolve.

Truth is not fragile because science updates. It’s fragile because humans want closure.

We want the book to end. We want the answer final. We want to stop thinking.

Truth refuses.

The Hidden Layer: Emotional Truth

Here’s where things get uncomfortable.

There is a layer of truth that has nothing to do with facts and everything to do with emotional resonance.

People accept truths that feel right long before they verify them.

This is not stupidity. It’s survival.

Emotion is faster than reason. Always has been.

A truth that humiliates, threatens identity, or destabilises belonging will be rejected no matter how accurate it is.

Truth is negotiated with the nervous system.

Hysterical Example #4: “I Knew It All Along”

Something unexpected happens.

Everyone claims they predicted it.

They didn’t.

But the emotional truth is more important than the factual one. The emotional truth says:
“I am competent. I understand the world. I am not surprised.”

And the memory adjusts. The narrative tightens. The lie becomes invisible.

Truth bends to protect dignity.

So, Is There More Than Narrative Control?

Yes. And this is the part people miss.

Truth is not only built by those who speak the loudest. It is also built by those who stay silent.

Silence is not neutral. Silence is a vote.

What we don’t challenge, we endorse.
What we ignore, we normalise.
What we laugh at, we defang.

Truth emerges from pressure points. From friction. From what costs something to say and what costs nothing.

The truths that survive are not the most accurate. They are the least expensive.

The Uncomfortable Conclusion

Truth is not a gift of the universe.
It is not a reward for honesty.
It is not a moral achievement.

Truth is a structure.