**The Origin Story: Why Write a Book About Truth?** You might already be familiar with Harry Frankfurt's earlier work on the concept of bullshit. In that essay, he offered a provisional analysis, defining bullshit as something spoken by someone who presents themselves as conveying information but is actually faking it to manipulate opinions and attitudes. Bullshitters, in this view, are primarily concerned with whether what they say is _effective_ in manipulating others, and are more or less indifferent to whether it's true or false. In his earlier book, Frankfurt also explored the important distinction between bullshit and lies, pondered why bullshit is so common, and argued that it's a more insidious threat to civilized life than lying. But later, he realized he had made a big assumption without explaining it: that indifference to truth is undesirable and bullshitting should be condemned. He hadn't explained _why_ truth is actually so important or why we should care about it. Most people agree truth is important, but few can explain _why_. This gap is what led him to write _On Truth_, considering it a sequel or a foundational inquiry to his work on bullshit. **A World of Fakery (But We Survive, So Far)** We're all pretty aware that our society is constantly bombarded with "enormous infusions" of bullshit, lies, and other forms of misrepresentation. It's a constant burden. Yet, interestingly, this burden hasn't crippled our civilization—at least, not yet. Someone might look at this and think, "Hey, maybe truth isn't that important after all. Maybe we don't have a strong reason to care much about it". Frankfurt warns that this would be a "deplorable mistake". He points out that while a casual attitude toward truth is sadly common among politicians and publicists (breeds known for producing bullshit, lies, and fraud), it's become disturbingly widespread even among groups you might have expected to be more reliable. This includes best-selling authors, writers for major newspapers, historians, biographers, memoirists, literary theorists, novelists, and yes, even philosophers – "who of all people might reasonably have been counted on to know better". Some of these folks, particularly a group calling themselves "postmodernists," stubbornly and self-righteously deny that truth has any genuinely objective reality. Because of this, they deny that truth deserves any obligatory deference or respect. They even dismiss the idea that "what the facts are" is a useful notion or has intelligible meaning. For them, deciding what deserves deference is "just up for grabs," simply a matter of how you look at things. Frankfurt notes that postmodernists aren't fazed by the fact that we constantly identify propositions as true or false. They aren't even necessarily moved by the often valuable outcomes of this practice. Their reasoning is that the distinctions we make between true and false are guided by nothing more objective than individual viewpoints, or perhaps by social pressures, economic requirements, or customs. The core postmodernist point, he explains, is that what a person sees as true is either just their individual perspective or determined by inescapable social pressures. Frankfurt finds this viewpoint "far too glib but also rather obtuse". Think about engineers and architects. They absolutely must strive for genuine objectivity and often achieve it. They need accurate assessments of obstacles and resources for their plans. The precise measurements vital for designs and constructions cannot plausibly be subject to shifting individual perspectives or arbitrary social demands. They must be stable and, crucially, they must be _correct_. If a bridge collapses under normal stress, it clearly tells us that mistakes were made and solutions were "fatally incorrect". The same principle applies in medicine. Physicians need to know, factually, which treatments help, which do nothing, and which are harmful. No one in their right mind would trust a builder or physician who doesn't care about the truth. Even artists and musicians, in their own way, must know how to "get things right" and avoid getting them "too far wrong," recognizing some approaches are "manifestly incorrect" or "truly awful". In all these fields, there's a clear difference between right and wrong, between true and false. While some claim history or social commentary is different due to subjectivity, and admit that subjectivity is inescapable, Frankfurt argues there are still limits. As Georges Clemenceau put it regarding future historians of WWI, "They will not say that Belgium invaded Germany". There are facts, a "dimension of reality," that even the boldest subjectivity cannot intrude upon. **Truth and What We Value: Beyond Just Facts?** Some people feel that evaluative judgments (like saying someone has a bad moral character) aren't really true or false themselves. They see them as just expressing personal feelings. Frankfurt suggests, "Okay, suppose we concede this". Even then, accepting or rejecting an evaluative judgment _still_ depends on factual statements that _are_ correct or incorrect. To judge someone's character, you need factual statements about their behavior as evidence. These factual statements _must_ be true, and the reasoning connecting them to the judgment must be valid, otherwise the judgment isn't reasonable. So, the true-false distinction remains "critically pertinent" to evaluating judgments, even if it doesn't apply directly _to_ the judgments themselves. Similarly, factual statements are essential for explaining and validating the purposes and goals we choose. While some thinkers say selecting ultimate goals isn't rational but just based on feelings, Frankfurt argues we often select goals (like health or wealth) based on what we _believe_ about them. Therefore, the truth or falsity of the factual statements underlying our chosen goals is "inescapably relevant" to the rationality of our choices. We need to know if those factual judgments are true to know if our feelings and choices make sense. **Why Society and Individuals Desperately Need Truth** For all these reasons, no society can afford to despise or disrespect the truth. It's not enough just to acknowledge that truth and falsity are valid concepts. Society must also encourage and support people who seek and use significant truths. Furthermore, despite the potential benefits of bullshitting or lying, societies "cannot afford to tolerate anyone or anything that fosters a slovenly indifference to the distinction between true and false". Even worse is the "shabby, narcissistic pretense" that being "true to oneself" is more important than being "true to the facts". This attitude, Frankfurt argues, is inherently against "a decent and orderly social life". A society that is careless or persistently fails in these ways is destined to decline or become "culturally inert". It won't be capable of substantial achievement or even coherent ambition. Civilizations need vast amounts of reliable factual information to be healthy; they cannot flourish if plagued by mistaken beliefs. To build and sustain an advanced culture, we must avoid being weakened by error or ignorance. We need to know, and use productively, "a great many truths". This isn't just true for society; it applies to each of us as individuals too. Individuals need truths to successfully navigate life's hazards and opportunities. This includes knowing crucial, everyday things: what to eat, how to dress based on climate, where to live considering dangers and conveniences, how to do our jobs, raise kids, understand people, and figure out our own capabilities and desires. Our success or failure in life depends on whether we are guided by truth or proceed based on ignorance or falsehood. What we _do_ with the truth is also critical, of course. But without truth, we're doomed from the start. We simply cannot live without truth; we need it to live well and even just to survive. This importance is hard to miss, so we're bound to recognize, at least implicitly, that truth is important. Consequently, we're also bound to understand that indifference to truth is unacceptable. Indifference isn't just careless; it could quickly be fatal. Recognizing truth's importance means we cannot reasonably stop wanting and striving for it. **A Glimpse into Spinoza: Why We Can't Help Loving Truth** But hold on, you might ask. Since when are humans known for always being reasonable? We're pretty good at ignoring rationality's demands. How likely is it, then, that we'll actually respect the rational imperative to take truth seriously?. Before we despair too much, Frankfurt introduces the ideas of Baruch Spinoza, a 17th-century philosopher. Spinoza argued that whether we like or feel comfortable with rationality, it's ultimately "imposed on us". Whether we want to or not, "we really cannot help submitting to it". And the driving force, according to Spinoza, is _love_. Now, Spinoza's definition of love might sound a bit abstract at first: "Love is nothing but Joy with the accompanying idea of an external cause". And joy? That's "what follows that passion by which the... [individual] passes to a greater perfection". Frankfurt admits these definitions can seem "forbiddingly obscure". And you might even question Spinoza's authority on love, given his personal life (no spouse, no children, no steady girlfriend). But Frankfurt clarifies that Spinoza wasn't focusing on romantic or familial love; he meant a broader sense of love, not necessarily directed at a person. Spinoza believed every individual has an essential nature that it constantly strives to realize and sustain – an "innate impetus" to become and remain what it most essentially is. The "passion by which the individual passes to a greater perfection" refers to an increase in the individual's capacity to survive and fulfill this essential nature, caused by something external. When this capacity increases, it brings a sense of "enhanced vitality," feeling more fully oneself and alive. Frankfurt finds it plausible that this experience of increased vitality and expanding ability to realize one's nature is "inherently exhilarating". It's perhaps like the feeling of exhilaration from vigorous exercise, where you feel more completely and vividly alive by being more aware of your capacities. This feeling of increased power to live in accordance with one's authentic nature is, Frankfurt suggests, what Spinoza meant by "joy". Now, if a person experiencing this joy recognizes an external cause for it – identifying something or someone their joy depends on – Spinoza believed they "inevitably loves that object". This is his definition of love: how we respond to what we recognize as causing us joy. On this account, people can't help loving whatever they see as a source of joy, whatever helps them continue existing and become more fully themselves. Frankfurt thinks Spinoza is "on the right track here," observing that many instances of love fit this pattern: people tend to love what helps them "find themselves" and face life without compromising their nature. Spinoza also noted that someone who loves "necessarily strives to have present and preserve the things he loves". This makes sense: things you love are precious because your life and authenticity depend on them, so you naturally protect them and keep them accessible. From this, Spinoza concluded that people "cannot help loving truth". Why? Because they can't help recognizing that truth is "indispensable" for staying alive, understanding themselves, and living in line with their nature. Without truths about their own nature, capacities, needs, and available resources, people would struggle immensely; they couldn't even set goals or survive effectively. Therefore, according to Spinoza, a person who despises or is indifferent to truth must be indifferent to their own life. This attitude towards oneself is rare and hard to maintain. Thus, Spinoza concluded that almost everyone – anyone who values their own life – loves truth, whether they realize it or not. Frankfurt largely agrees, concluding that most of us do love truth, and to the extent that we understand how to deal effectively with life, "we cannot help loving truth". **Truth's Utility: From Practical Matters to Reality Itself** So far, we've mostly discussed the _pragmatic_ or _utilitarian_ aspect of truth – its usefulness. This involves "truth" understood as a characteristic distributed among individual propositions – meaning, specific, individual truths. The utility lies in how these truths help us design and pursue social or individual ambitions and activities, a usefulness they have _because_ they are true. This practical value is easy to grasp, hard to miss, and impossible for a sensible person to deny. It's the most obvious reason to care about truth. But let's dig a little deeper. _How_ do truths possess this utility? What's the connection between being true and having practical value? Why are truths useful at all?. The answer, at least initially, is straightforward. When we act in the world or manage our affairs, we're trying to cope with reality. The results depend, in part, on the properties of the real objects and events we deal with – what they're like, how they fit our interests, and how they respond to our actions based on their features. Truths are valuable instrumentally because they "capture and convey the nature of these realities". They have practical utility because they accurately describe the properties (especially causal powers) of the real things we interact with. We can only act confidently and expect success if we have enough _relevant information_. This means knowing enough about the facts, the realities, pertinent to our projects – knowing enough of the _truth_ to intelligently set and achieve goals. When we grasp these truths, we apprehend what those aspects of the world are _really_ like. This lets us see the actual possibilities, dangers, risks, and reasonable expectations, helping us "know our way around". Crucially, the relevant facts are what they are "regardless of what we may happen to believe about them, and regardless of what we may wish them to be". This independence from our will is the "essence and the defining character of factuality, of being real". We can't change facts or the truth about them simply by wishing or judging. Knowing the truth allows reality itself to guide our conduct. Facts – the true nature of reality – are the "final and incontrovertible recourse of inquiry," resolving uncertainties. Frankfurt recalls his own early dedication to truth stemming from the liberating conviction that grasping truth would free him from being bothered by anyone's speculations or hopes. Having the truths we need helps us make sensible judgments about what we want and what actions will likely lead where. We know what we're dealing with and how things will respond. This helps us feel more relaxed and secure in certain areas of the world, feeling "at home". However, the reality we face might not be pleasant; it could be dangerous. Some might suggest it's better not to know terrifying facts. But Frankfurt believes facing facts is "nearly always more advantageous" than remaining ignorant. Hiding from reality doesn't lessen its dangers, and our chances of success are greater if we "see things straight". This applies to both external reality and the truth about ourselves – our inner tendencies and character. Self-knowledge, even if distressing, is a critical asset for living successfully, perhaps even more so than understanding the outside world. Without truth, we're either clueless or wrong. We don't know our situation, inside or out. False beliefs don't help. Ignorance or temporary deception might feel comfortable for a bit, but they ultimately make things worse. Lacking truth leaves us in the dark, relying only on our own guesses or unreliable advice. We're "flying blind," feeling our way tentatively. This might work briefly, but it's bound to lead to trouble. We won't know how to avoid dangers or will be unaware of them until it's too late, only learning of them through defeat. **Truth as the Cornerstone of Rationality** Humans are traditionally defined as "rational animals". Rationality is our distinctive trait, one we're proud of and believe makes us superior. But we couldn't properly call ourselves rational if we didn't acknowledge the difference between true and false. Being rational means being appropriately responsive to reasons, and reasons are made of facts. For example, the fact that it's raining is a reason to carry an umbrella if you want to stay dry. However, this fact provides a reason _only if_ it is truly a fact that it's raining – only if the statement "it is raining" is _true_. False statements offer "no rational support for anything"; they cannot serve as reasons. You might show off by deducing implications from false statements, but under ordinary conditions, it's pointless. The concepts of truth and factuality are "indispensable" for giving substance to rationality and for understanding the very concept of rationality itself. Without them, the concept is meaningless, and rationality is useless. We can only think of ourselves as rational creatures, with a significant advantage, if we recognize that facts and true statements provide reasons for beliefs and actions. If we don't respect the true-false distinction, we might as well abandon our claim to rationality. **Truth, Trust, and the Intimacy of Relationships** There's a clear link between truth and factuality, but also between truth and trust/confidence. This is hinted at by the similarity between "truth" and the older word "troth". When people "pledge their troth" in marriage, they promise to be "true" to each other, committing to fulfill mutual expectations and assuring they can be trusted. Trust isn't only important in marriage. Social relationships in general function efficiently and harmoniously only with a "reasonable degree of confidence" that others are reliable. Widespread dishonesty would threaten peaceful social life. This led philosophers like Kant and Montaigne to argue vehemently that lying undermines society, with Montaigne even suggesting liars deserve to be burned. Frankfurt feels Kant and Montaigne "exaggerated". Social interaction doesn't _strictly_ depend on truth-telling, and conversation doesn't lose _all_ value from lies (you might still get some info, and it could even be entertaining). The fact that there's enormous lying and bullshit doesn't make productive social life impossible; it just means we "have to be careful". We can navigate falsehoods if we're reasonably confident in our ability to spot misrepresentation. General confidence in others isn't essential if we trust our own judgment. However, we are easily fooled and know it, which makes self-trust difficult. So, widespread disrespect for truth _does_ burden society. But, interestingly, Frankfurt argues this societal burden isn't the _most fundamental_ reason we care about truth. When people lie to us, we get angry and upset. But this isn't primarily because we fear they are harming society (as Kant/Montaigne suggested). Our main concern isn't public welfare; it's "something more personal". What really stirs us isn't harm to humankind, but the injury to _ourselves_. **The Injury of Lies: Being Cut Off from Reality** How do lies hurt us? It's true that sometimes lies aren't harmful and can even be beneficial, perhaps protecting us from distress or diverting us from harmful paths. In such cases, we might even be grateful for the lie, though we might still feel there was "surely something bad" about the act of lying itself. We might believe it would have been better if the positive outcome could have been achieved honestly. The "most irreducibly bad thing" about lies is that they interfere with our natural effort to grasp reality – they prevent us from being "in touch with what is really going on". The liar tries to mislead us into believing things are different than they are, aiming to impose their will and make us accept their fabrication as reality. If they succeed, we gain a view of the world based on the liar's imagination, not facts. The world, as we understand it through the lie, becomes an "imaginary world". It might not be the worst place, but it's definitely "not do for us... as a permanent residence". Lies are designed to damage our grip on reality, essentially trying to make us "crazy". Believing lies means our minds are filled with fictions concocted by the liar. We accept a reality others can't experience. This traps the victim in their "own world," isolated from common experience in an "illusory realm" that others cannot enter. **Damage to the Liar: The Loneliness of Fabrication** Truth and caring about truth affect us not just practically, but also on a deeper level. Lies also harm the liar. Poet Adrienne Rich observed that the liar leads an "unutterable loneliness". This loneliness is "unutterable" because the liar cannot reveal it without also revealing the lie. By hiding their true thoughts and pretending to believe what they don't, the liar makes it impossible for others to truly connect with them or respond to them as they are. The liar, by lying, refuses to be known. This is an insult to their victims, hurting their pride by denying them a basic form of human intimacy: knowing what's on another person's mind. Rich also notes a "more profound sort of damage" in personal relationships. Discovering a friend lied can make one feel "a little crazy". With strangers, we assess reliability deliberately. With close friends, we take honesty for granted, trusting them based on feeling safe and comfortable ("second nature"), not just calculation. "We just know that they wouldn’t lie to us". Discovering a friend lied is disturbing because it shows something about _ourselves_ – that our "second nature" (our trusting feelings) is unreliable. It led us away from the truth. Our natural inclination to trust turns out to be "self-defeating, and hence irrational". Feeling that our nature is out of touch with reality can make us feel "a little crazy". Frankfurt ties this feeling of "craziness" to self-betrayal and irrationality. Rationality involves consistency and not defeating oneself. Like an irrational action (e.g., a diet that harms health instead of helping), contradictory thinking (like believing a lie when your nature says trust, and then realizing your nature led you wrong) is irrational because it defeats itself. Discovering a friend lied shows our natural inclinations betrayed us in our effort to identify trustworthy people, leading us to miss the truth. This self-defeat, this feeling of being out of touch with reality _by nature_, contributes to the feeling of being "a little crazy". **Shakespeare's Twist: The Happy Lies of Love?** While Rich offers penetrating insights, there's another side. Shakespeare, in Sonnet 138, presents a different view. He questions the dogma that lovers _must_ trust each other, suggesting "seeming trust" is "just as good, if not sometimes even better". In the sonnet, the woman claims truthfulness but lies about believing the man is young. The man knows she's lying but accepts her claim of truthfulness, bringing himself to believe she _does_ believe his lie about his age. Each lies to the other and about their own truthfulness, and each knows the other is lying and sees through their own lies. Yet, they pretend to believe the other is completely honest. This shared collection of lies and "seeming trust" lets them believe their self-flattering lies (about honesty, youth) are accepted, and they end up "lying happily together". This situation doesn't involve the foreclosure of intimacy Rich described. The lovers know exactly what's on each other's minds, and "what lies behind it". Everything is "reassuringly transparent". They are secure knowing their love is undamaged by their lies; they see their love "survives even knowing the truth". Frankfurt guesses the intimacy they share, born from recognizing each other's lies and knowing their own are seen through, is "especially deep and enjoyable". It penetrates hidden aspects of themselves they tried to conceal. The mutual penetration of their lies, leading to the truth of love, must be "wonderfully delicious". So, while generally recommending truth, Frankfurt playfully advises, "Go for it!" if you can manage lying into a Shakespearean situation like this. **Caring for Truth Itself: Beyond Individual Facts** Up to this point, the discussion of truth's value has often focused on its instrumental utility – its use in specific, practical areas like engineering or medicine. Individual truths are useful. These seekers of truth care about discrete facts and the inferences they support; they aren't necessarily concerned with "truth as such". They care about truths in their specific field, satisfied when they have true, useful beliefs about their topics of interest. But what about the value of truth _itself_, distinct from the value of individual truths?. What does it _mean_ to value and care about truth as such, in a practical sense?. For one thing, caring about truth means caring about strengthening our grasp of specific truths, especially important ones. It also means finding satisfaction, maybe even "the special joy of the lover," in discovering significant truths. It means wanting to protect the truths we already have from distortion. And, generally, it means trying to encourage a preference for true beliefs over ignorance, error, and misrepresentation in society. These ambitions seem shared by most people who seek truth, and they hardly seem unworthy. Caring about truth _itself_ plays a deeper, more general role than just accumulating facts. It provides the foundation and motivation for our curiosity and commitment to inquiry. We care about accumulating truths _because_ we appreciate that truth in general is important to us. **Truth and Our Own Identity: A Philosophical Turn** This brings us to a "more richly philosophical story" about truth's importance, one that goes beyond mere practical needs. We learn that we are separate beings, distinct from everything else, by encountering obstacles to our desires – by running into aspects of experience that don't bend to our will. When things are unyielding or hostile to our interests, we realize they aren't part of ourselves and are independent of us. This is how we develop the concept of _reality_, which is essentially what limits us, what we cannot control by sheer willpower. As we learn more about how we are limited by reality, we begin to define our own boundaries and understand our own shape. We learn what we can and cannot do, and what effort is needed to accomplish what's possible. We learn our powers and weaknesses. This not only strengthens our sense of separateness but also defines the specific kind of being we are. Therefore, our understanding of our own identity arises from and depends on our appreciation of a reality that is definitely independent of us. It depends on recognizing facts and truths that we cannot directly control. If the world always became whatever we wished, we wouldn't be able to distinguish ourselves from others or understand what we specifically are. It is only by recognizing a world of stubbornly independent reality, fact, and truth that we come to see ourselves as distinct beings and define our unique identities. Given this profound connection between truth, reality, and our very sense of self, Frankfurt asks, "How, then, can we fail to take the importance of factuality and of reality seriously? How can we fail to care about truth?". His answer is simple and powerful: "We cannot.". **Further Ideas and Questions to Explore** Reading about Frankfurt's perspective opens up some fascinating avenues for thought: - **The Spectrum of Disregard for Truth:** Frankfurt distinguishes between bullshit and lies, and mentions indifference to truth. Where do other forms of misrepresentation fit on this spectrum? How do subtle forms of spin or omission impact society and individuals compared to outright lies or pure bullshit? - **Cultivating Self-Trust:** If our ability to navigate falsehoods depends on trusting our own judgment to spot deception, and we know we're easily fooled, how can we realistically cultivate this necessary self-trust? What practices or attitudes help build this resilience against deception? - **The Nature of "Second Nature":** Frankfurt uses "second nature" to describe our ingrained trust in friends. How much of our relationship to truth is based on such ingrained habits or "second natures" rather than deliberate rational choice? Can these "second natures" be consciously reshaped? - **The "Joy" of Truth:** Spinoza links truth to joy and increased vitality. Can you think of times in your own life when discovering a truth, or overcoming ignorance, felt exhilarating or empowering in a way that resonates with this idea? Does this apply only to discovering external truths, or also truths about oneself? - **Navigating Shakespearean Love:** Frankfurt playfully suggests "going for it" if you can achieve the deep, transparent intimacy found in Shakespeare's sonnet despite lying. What makes this particular scenario (knowing the other knows you are lying, and vice-versa) so different? Is it the mutual awareness, the shared performance, or something else entirely? Are there real-world parallels, even outside of romance? - **Truth and Identity in the Digital Age:** In a world saturated with curated online personas and rapidly spreading misinformation, how do Frankfurt's ideas about truth defining reality and shaping identity play out? Does the nature of "stubbornly independent reality" change when so much of our interaction is mediated by potentially fabricated digital environments? Hopefully, this briefing has provided you with a clear and interesting look into Harry Frankfurt's compelling arguments for why truth is so profoundly important, both practically and existentially. It's a topic with endless layers to peel back!