The assignment in my advanced communication class in college was to develop a persuasive argument. The topic I chose for my 15-page paper was the United States' decisive role in World War II.
My professor for this class in rhetoric was Dr. Camp. I remember him to be an engaging lecturer and a quintessential southern gentleman. He frequently wore a tweed sports coat and a bowtie. A grandfather-like figure to most of us, we were both awed and respectfully terrified of the man.
One day after class, Dr. Camp returned our papers to us with comments and a grade. Filing out into the hallway to hazard a glance at my paper, I liked what I saw as I flipped the pages to read his comments scribbled in red ink:
"Nice phrase."
"Excellent point."
"Well-crafted argument."
"Say more about this. You've piqued my curiosity."
My anticipation swelled as I reached the end of my paper. I could see the bright red script bleeding through the pages, and I eagerly turned the last page to see my grade.
F
I was stunned. In fact, I remember swooning and feeling nauseous as I stared at my failing grade and the subsequent judgment behind it.
Dr. Camp wrote: "This was an excellent paper, Mr. Mathis. That is, until the end. You made reckless assertions and drew a faulty conclusion. Make an appointment to discuss your work with me."
I was stunned and felt ashamed.
Days later, with my right hand clutching my failed assignment, I met with Dr. Camp in my office. He offered me no pleasantries and moved swiftly to his point. It went something like this:
"Mr. Mathis, at the end of your paper, you made a grave and thoroughly unnecessary error."
Smiling slyly as though he was enjoying this, he said, "You simply cannot claim things that you cannot prove."
"Why in the world would you choose to end your paper about World War II with the scurrilous suggestion that FDR moved the fleet to Pearl Harbor to provoke an attack with Japan so that he could justify entering a war that America had no appetite to join?"
Dr. Camp wasn't smiling anymore. He looked visibly angry. I wondered at that moment if he had fought in World War II (I genuinely think that he had).
"I thought it was interesting," I hazarded.
"Interesting?" he sneered, "Interesting does not make for a good argument," he said. "Gossip is not history. We traffic in truth, here, Mr. Mathis. And the truth is built on facts. If you can't prove it, you shouldn't say it."
I tried to keep my voice steady as I apologized. I slunk out of the office after accepting the offer to resubmit my paper, which I did. I deleted my fringe, conspiracy-theory conclusion, and received an A.
Lesson learned.
****
According to Julian Kramer, a conspiracy theory is "an explanation for events that relies on the assertion that powerful people are dishonestly manipulating society."
Why did I choose to include an unproven conspiracy theory in a formal paper? I thought at the time that it was a fascinating consideration. Looking back, I'd venture to say that I was naïve to the harm a conspiracy theory can do. However, my professor knew the power of disinformation and gave me a stern warning not to perpetuate a baseless claim.
Disinformation can breed violence. Although we don't have to look very far for an example, consider this. Just this past year, several 5G cell phone towers were set ablaze when stories on social media reported that the new technology causes COVID-19.
Goodness.
Why would individuals believe this? How would people come to this conclusion and consider it the truth?
Social scientists report that we are wired to make patterns amid chaos. We try to make meaning, even and especially when there may be little connection between disparate elements. "Misinformation offers simple, casual explanations for otherwise random events," Kramer reports. "It helps restore a sense of agency and control for many people," says Sander van der Linden, a social psychologist at the University of Cambridge.
Couple this with the extraordinary role that social media has come to play in our culture, and we are awash with misinformation about the origins of the pandemic, unproven claims about the 2020 election, and the efficacy of vaccines.
Further muddying the waters, "Experts also say that people are more likely to believe misinformation that they are exposed to over and over again—such as allegations of election fraud or claims that COVID-19 is no more dangerous than the flu. "The brain mistakes familiarity for truth," van der Linden says."
Finally, and most disturbingly, is the reality that some choose to author untruths for their own selfish aims. David Lesh, a social media star who has gotten into legal trouble for his posts, brazenly states: "I want to be able to post fake things to the Internet. That's my (expletive) right as an American." Surprising no one, Lesh has established an extensive audience of imitators and detractors.
With so many voices claiming to be right, to be the truth, to have us open our eyes to what's really happening, the likelihood grows that we will put an outsized trust in the wrong source. How can people of faith remember that our guiding authority is Christ Jesus?
In John 8, Jesus tells his followers: "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free." Here are two notable observations about Jesus's commentary on truth. First, Jesus is the truth. Jesus is the truth about God, and Jesus reveals the truth about us. Second, those who "continue in Jesus's word"—that is, in the revelation of God's commandments—will be Jesus's disciples and followers."
The influence of Jesus in our lives affects our thinking and changes our minds. Jesus teaches us that we are to carefully examine the trees of information that we encounter and consider thoughtfully the fruit they bear. Jesus states this truth: "No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. (Luke 6:43-45)
As a proclaimer of God's truth and as a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I am haunted by Jesus's words of warning when it comes to the words that we speak and the fruit that we bear. Jesus says, "I tell you, on the day of judgment you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter; for by your words you will be justified, and by your words, you will be condemned." (Matthew 12:36-37)
I, for one, am grateful for the rebuke I received at the hands of my college professor.
"We traffic in truth, here, Mr. Mathis. And the truth is built on facts. If you can't prove it, you shouldn't say it."
Amen.
-----
Articles referenced include:
-“Why People Latch on to Conspiracy Theories, According to Science,” by Jillian Kramer and published online on January 8, 2021 in the National Geographic.
-“Bad Influencer,” by Nick Paumgaarten and published in the January 18, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.