Perception vs. Reality: Navigating Truth in a Divided World
In an Age of Absolutes, Embracing the Grey Zone
Hello dear reader.
How do you know what's true?
I was asked this question, "how do you know/trust that something is true and that your perception matches reality?"
My immediate response is "you don't." But then I thought…is this a trick question? What is the right answer? Is there one?
Truth - The quality or state of being true; a fact or belief that is accepted as true; that which is true or in accordance with fact or reality.
You can see why, in 2024, this is a tricky question to answer.
I used to be so sure of truth.
I started my journalism career because I wanted to expose the truth—making a big assumption that truth was hiding, or people were being kept from it.
Looking back now, I have to laugh at my younger self. What was I thinking at 21? That I alone was going to root out the bad faith actors and expose the truth in print? Or later at 23, when I went to CBC News, that I'd do it on TV?
I believed the media spoke truth. Exposed what powerful organizations didn't want you to know. As a journalist, I joined the Canadian Association of Journalists and took the Code of Ethics seriously. I was ‘in’ and on the side of the angels…the champions of truth.1
When I was a kid, I used to watch Barbara Frum on CBC's The Journal (think Barbara Walters, but better). She was a beloved and trusted journalist in Canada, and her documentary news program topped the ratings—my favourite type of shows, even back then.
I aspired to be her, but I also aspired to be a mom. When I fell in love in my early 20's and started having children, the ‘being Barbara Frum’ dream was put on the shelf.
In the early 90's, I crossed to what was known as "the dark side"—taking a job in communications, then building it into a full-blown public relations career. After various roles in and out of government, I opened my own firm.
That's when I learned a fundamental lesson about truth: it's all about perception.
"It doesn't matter what's true," I would tell clients. "What matters is how people perceive it."
I built campaigns based on truth, but also about shifting perceptions of what people THOUGHT was true. The fact that whole groups could believe something simply because someone told them it was true—that's why they hired me.
"Kim, we need to get the truth out there," they'd say.
One case crystallized this dynamic perfectly. A police department called me after being accused of abusing a teenage girl in the drunk tank. Two male officers had entered her padded cell to remove her bra while she was kicking and screaming. Watching the surveillance tape, my visceral reaction made the deputy chief suddenly see how the public might view their "standard procedure."
To the officers, they were following protocol to keep a troubled teen safe. To the public, without context, it looked like two men manhandling a vulnerable young girl.
Both perspectives contained truth, but the complete story required careful explanation. Through a timely press conference, we provided the full context: the late-night emergency call, the attempts to find her home, and the safety protocols that led to that moment.
This divide between perception and reality shapes much of our modern discourse.
Today, I wonder if facts even matter anymore. People seem to have made up their minds about everything—Israel, Gaza, transgender rights, Republicans, Democrats, Canada, Ukraine, Russia. There's no room for nuance or real discussion.
Everything is black and white, right or wrong.
I've been practicing embracing the grey zone. Take the Israel-Gaza conflict: I believe Israel has the right to defend itself against terrorists, and their precision in Iran with targeted operations shows their capability. Yet I question whether razing Gaza is necessary to find the bad guys.
But what do I know? That's just my opinion.
Or consider gender identity: I believe in biological sex while supporting transgender rights. Who cares what bathroom someone uses? Although, I admit to complex feelings about competitive sports and shared changing rooms.
It's complicated, and I can see multiple perspectives. Grey zone.
These nuanced positions often draw fire from all sides.
I read a recent New York Times story about trans activists re-thinking their confrontational strategy of shaming and bullying people who don't agree with them.2
As a former PR strategist, my immediate thought was, "no shit, Sherlock." When has that strategy ever worked for changing hearts and minds?
The rebel in me actually wants to oppose and do the opposite, just like a little kid being told what to think by their parents.
Bullying or shaming people who don't share your opinion isn't cool, no matter what side of the argument you're on—any argument.
This brings me back to the fundamental question: how do we actually know what's true?
In my years of working with perception and reality, I've come to appreciate that there are three traditional ways to discover truth:
1. Direct – you see the fire, so there is a fire
2. Inference – you see smoke, hear sirens, there must be a fire
3. Trusted source – someone you trust tells you there's a fire
But all three require discernment and humility. We can all be wrong sometimes.
I often find myself caught in the dissonance when reading opposing viewpoints from writers I admire. Take
and on Israel and Gaza—both passionate, both armed with compelling narratives and historical evidence, yet completely opposed.So what's right? Can opposing truths both be valid?
This question has challenged philosophers and spiritual leaders across cultures and time.
Ancient Buddhist teachings speak of the "Two Truths" doctrine—conventional truth (how things appear) and ultimate truth (how things actually are). In Hindu philosophy, the concept of "Satya" encompasses both empirical truth and transcendental truth. Islamic scholars write of "Haqq"—truth as both a fact and a moral right.
I wonder when "my truth" first entered our lexicon? When did truth need a possessive adjective?
Throughout history, truth was often presented as absolute and universal.
"There is one God" (Apostle's Creed)
"Truth is one, though the sages know it as many" (Rigveda)
"I am the way, the truth and the light" (John 14:6)
"And you will know the truth, and the truth shall set you free" (John 8:32)
The ancient Greeks had ‘Aletheia’3 —truth as un-concealment or disclosure of reality. Even Pontius Pilate's famous question, "What is truth?" (John 18:38) echoes through the centuries to our current struggles.
Truth has always felt like a big deal. It should be. And yet, it feels more elusive than ever.
Perhaps the answer lies in focusing inward—on our own lives, our own world, our inner selves. The truth may reside in our intuition, our sixth sense.
But as for universal truth? In 2025, that seems to be anyone's guess.
What say you?
How would you answer the question, “How do you know what is true?”
That’s it. It’s a big question, so I’ll just leave it there.
My naivete has been shattered once again by the reality that despite the best efforts of unbiased reporting back in the day, I’m not sure there is such a thing anymore—if there ever was.
See an earlier opinion piece I wrote about J.K. Rowling here.
In Greek mythology Aletheia is the Greek goddess of truth, sincerity, and truthfulness. She is the daughter of Zeus and Hera, or possibly Prometheus. Her Roman name is Veritas.
I think it is difficult to answer what is true because yes, sometimes seemingly opposing facts can be both true. It is the nuances or the details that may differ. But if we dig enough, we will find some universal truth such as compassion, impermanence, interconnectedness ...
With truth, I feel like I sit on an ocean of fact, opinion, and intuition and I need to be like a boat with a weighty 25,000-pound keel that will self-right on whatever stormy truth comes, but it's harder than ever to know. We're all so fallible as humans. We need grace.