Davide Smith Borrelli's Blog, page 3
January 29, 2025
“That’s Your Truth”: The Phrase That Kills Every Discussion
I’m sure each of you has, at some point, encountered a highly intelligent person shutting down a discussion with the phrase, “That’s your truth.” I find this expression incredibly frustrating.
Don’t get me wrong—I value the diversity of perspectives in a society. Many of the greatest revolutions in human history were sparked by questioning ideas once considered unquestionable. Skepticism, in this sense, is a powerful force for progress.
However, I sometimes feel that modern skepticism is different from the kind that once drove scientific and social advancements.
The phrase “That’s your truth” often seems less like an invitation to debate and more like a rhetorical trick—a way to evade scrutiny and avoid subjecting certain opinions to the test of facts.
Saying “this is your truth” transforms a fact—or what is presented as a fact, something that should leave no room for disagreement—into a mere opinion, a subjective interpretation of reality. Worse, it shuts down any meaningful discussion about facts.
Those who argue that everyone has their own truth ultimately reject the very notion of a shared definition of fact or evidence—and, by extension, the possibility of an honest discussion about reality. Without common ground, there can be no collaboration, leaving room for nothing but conflict.
If reality imposes no limits on our actions and everything is reduced to opinion, then every human relationship becomes a power struggle. Perhaps this is why so many of these brilliant individuals seem so profoundly unhappy.
This attitude, masquerading as skepticism, often conceals a deep aversion to dialogue and a refusal to engage in an honest exchange of ideas. It enables people to dismiss facts and ignore reality altogether—a habit that can be dangerously shortsighted.
For instance, it is a fact that water is highly effective in extinguishing fires. If, in a debate, I state this, and my interlocutor responds that it is merely my truth, they likely do so not because they possess an alternative truth, but because they have no intention of engaging with the subject of fire prevention. Had this fact been properly considered, perhaps it could have made a difference in California.
What makes me most skeptical about this brand of modern skepticism, however, is that those who insist there are many truths—and therefore none are often the same people who are utterly convinced they know exactly what is right and wrong, what can and cannot be said, and even what can and cannot be thought.
Then again, perhaps I’m mistaken. Maybe these people aren’t quite as intelligent as they seem.
This is an advertisement page, so I’ll end by reminding you:
"Zombies of Marx – The Return of Practical Reason" is available for purchase on all Amazon marketplaces in both English and Italian.
Don’t get me wrong—I value the diversity of perspectives in a society. Many of the greatest revolutions in human history were sparked by questioning ideas once considered unquestionable. Skepticism, in this sense, is a powerful force for progress.
However, I sometimes feel that modern skepticism is different from the kind that once drove scientific and social advancements.
The phrase “That’s your truth” often seems less like an invitation to debate and more like a rhetorical trick—a way to evade scrutiny and avoid subjecting certain opinions to the test of facts.
Saying “this is your truth” transforms a fact—or what is presented as a fact, something that should leave no room for disagreement—into a mere opinion, a subjective interpretation of reality. Worse, it shuts down any meaningful discussion about facts.
Those who argue that everyone has their own truth ultimately reject the very notion of a shared definition of fact or evidence—and, by extension, the possibility of an honest discussion about reality. Without common ground, there can be no collaboration, leaving room for nothing but conflict.
If reality imposes no limits on our actions and everything is reduced to opinion, then every human relationship becomes a power struggle. Perhaps this is why so many of these brilliant individuals seem so profoundly unhappy.
This attitude, masquerading as skepticism, often conceals a deep aversion to dialogue and a refusal to engage in an honest exchange of ideas. It enables people to dismiss facts and ignore reality altogether—a habit that can be dangerously shortsighted.
For instance, it is a fact that water is highly effective in extinguishing fires. If, in a debate, I state this, and my interlocutor responds that it is merely my truth, they likely do so not because they possess an alternative truth, but because they have no intention of engaging with the subject of fire prevention. Had this fact been properly considered, perhaps it could have made a difference in California.
What makes me most skeptical about this brand of modern skepticism, however, is that those who insist there are many truths—and therefore none are often the same people who are utterly convinced they know exactly what is right and wrong, what can and cannot be said, and even what can and cannot be thought.
Then again, perhaps I’m mistaken. Maybe these people aren’t quite as intelligent as they seem.
This is an advertisement page, so I’ll end by reminding you:
"Zombies of Marx – The Return of Practical Reason" is available for purchase on all Amazon marketplaces in both English and Italian.
January 26, 2025
Why do we write?
Every author writes out of narcissism. They want to be read, understood, and loved. Denying it feels hypocritical to me. Authors expect people to eagerly pick up their book, hoping to be enlightened by the light of truth. This holds true for both novelists and essayists. While novelists must pour something deeply personal into their writing—injecting a piece of their soul into the characters they create—essayists don’t face that same demand. At most, they might indulge in a bit of sarcasm or a touch of polemical wit.
When I was told I should join Goodreads to promote my book and increase my visibility, I was highly skeptical. They gave me a to-do list, tried to get me to answer some standard questions, and encouraged me to join forum discussions, slyly weaving in topics covered in my book. This rigidly structured approach to self-promotion left me feeling irritated.
I’m not immune to the narcissistic tendencies that all writers share, and I confess that, at times, I’ve thought my book might change the future of humanity. Thankfully, such grandiose delusions are fleeting, and I settle for the more realistic goal of having written a good book. I understand that books, like any other product, need promotion and that every market has its rules. Answering a few questions, for example, evidently works.
They also tell me that writing reviews or reading other authors’ books while promoting your own doesn’t work. But honestly, I’ve had enough of these rules. If someone asks me to read their book, I consider it a privilege. I see it as a significant gesture to share a work into which so many hopes have been poured. I also don’t want to lose the joy of picking up a book simply because its title intrigues me or because the author presents it in a captivating way. I refuse to let anyone dictate how I should behave.
My book is out, and I think it’s perfectly reasonable to try to sell it. So, if you’re interested in philosophy and social sciences, Zombies of Marx is free for Kindle Unlimited users. It’s also available in paperback and hardcover. If you’re not a Kindle Unlimited user, I suggest signing up—even if you don’t want to read my book. You’ll gain access to the great masterpieces of the past and countless hidden gems of the present.
I’d love to hear your thoughts.
When I was told I should join Goodreads to promote my book and increase my visibility, I was highly skeptical. They gave me a to-do list, tried to get me to answer some standard questions, and encouraged me to join forum discussions, slyly weaving in topics covered in my book. This rigidly structured approach to self-promotion left me feeling irritated.
I’m not immune to the narcissistic tendencies that all writers share, and I confess that, at times, I’ve thought my book might change the future of humanity. Thankfully, such grandiose delusions are fleeting, and I settle for the more realistic goal of having written a good book. I understand that books, like any other product, need promotion and that every market has its rules. Answering a few questions, for example, evidently works.
They also tell me that writing reviews or reading other authors’ books while promoting your own doesn’t work. But honestly, I’ve had enough of these rules. If someone asks me to read their book, I consider it a privilege. I see it as a significant gesture to share a work into which so many hopes have been poured. I also don’t want to lose the joy of picking up a book simply because its title intrigues me or because the author presents it in a captivating way. I refuse to let anyone dictate how I should behave.
My book is out, and I think it’s perfectly reasonable to try to sell it. So, if you’re interested in philosophy and social sciences, Zombies of Marx is free for Kindle Unlimited users. It’s also available in paperback and hardcover. If you’re not a Kindle Unlimited user, I suggest signing up—even if you don’t want to read my book. You’ll gain access to the great masterpieces of the past and countless hidden gems of the present.
I’d love to hear your thoughts.
January 21, 2025
The Impact of Content Moderation on Trust and Social Cohesion
Talking about Facebook’s censorship on Facebook is a complicated task.
I don’t want to challenge the work of fact-checkers. At this point, it seems pointless, and I trust that all Meta platforms will gradually normalize.
Instead, I want to examine the effects of fact-checking and how it has increased social fragmentation, frustration, and resentment.
Every form of censorship claims to have a noble purpose, to be infallible, and to be justified by some kind of urgency. However, history has consistently disproven these claims.
Censorship has always created a thriving market for "forbidden news": sometimes true, sometimes incredibly false. It has also given credibility to certain bizarre theories.
Instinctively, we tend to believe that news is banned because it is inconvenient for those in power. We believe this because, most of the time, it is true.
Censorship also fosters distrust in authority. If an authority is afraid of the truth, it loses all credibility.
The adoption of massive content control on the world’s most widely used social media platforms has had the same consequences as every form of censorship known throughout history.
Social media censorship has also had other consequences, some entirely new.
Throughout history, every form of information control has been accompanied by some form of violent repression of dissent and by a clear definition of forbidden topics. Social media censorship, however, is characterized by its unpredictability and, obviously, is not accompanied by any form of violent repression: it also targets news and topics that publishers perceive as legitimate and merely prevents their dissemination.
I believe that this form of information control has amplified frustration and anger, dividing society into clans—or, more precisely, fan bases.
Very often, fact-checkers have blocked the publication of true news or legitimate opinions, simply because they considered them unpleasant or due to pressure from particularly influential lobby groups.
Even though it concerns the commercial decisions of a private operator, this behavior has contributed to destroying trust in institutions, science, and the media.
These are the unintended consequences that we still struggle to recognize, which push us to embrace unhealthy forms of social determinism.
What do you think?
I don’t want to challenge the work of fact-checkers. At this point, it seems pointless, and I trust that all Meta platforms will gradually normalize.
Instead, I want to examine the effects of fact-checking and how it has increased social fragmentation, frustration, and resentment.
Every form of censorship claims to have a noble purpose, to be infallible, and to be justified by some kind of urgency. However, history has consistently disproven these claims.
Censorship has always created a thriving market for "forbidden news": sometimes true, sometimes incredibly false. It has also given credibility to certain bizarre theories.
Instinctively, we tend to believe that news is banned because it is inconvenient for those in power. We believe this because, most of the time, it is true.
Censorship also fosters distrust in authority. If an authority is afraid of the truth, it loses all credibility.
The adoption of massive content control on the world’s most widely used social media platforms has had the same consequences as every form of censorship known throughout history.
Social media censorship has also had other consequences, some entirely new.
Throughout history, every form of information control has been accompanied by some form of violent repression of dissent and by a clear definition of forbidden topics. Social media censorship, however, is characterized by its unpredictability and, obviously, is not accompanied by any form of violent repression: it also targets news and topics that publishers perceive as legitimate and merely prevents their dissemination.
I believe that this form of information control has amplified frustration and anger, dividing society into clans—or, more precisely, fan bases.
Very often, fact-checkers have blocked the publication of true news or legitimate opinions, simply because they considered them unpleasant or due to pressure from particularly influential lobby groups.
Even though it concerns the commercial decisions of a private operator, this behavior has contributed to destroying trust in institutions, science, and the media.
These are the unintended consequences that we still struggle to recognize, which push us to embrace unhealthy forms of social determinism.
What do you think?
Paul Krugman, Political Correctness, and the Roots of Western Anger: A Reflection on Elitism and Ideology
Paul Krugman has ended his collaboration with the New York Times. As a European reader of the newspaper, I must say I am disappointed, even though his last editorial was not much different from a pamphlet produced by those "revolutionary Marxist collectives" so popular among Italy’s upper bourgeoisie in the 1970s.
The story of a plutocracy of narcissists, drunk on delusions of omnipotence and threatening the freedom of the people, is an old one—and frankly, it has become tiresome.
While I don’t believe that the anger of the rich is a particularly significant social issue, I do agree with Krugman that Western society as a whole is angry. Unlike in the past, however, this anger is not solely rooted in economic reasons.
Like Krugman, I do not believe the origin of this anger lies in political correctness. At its core, political correctness is little more than a form of “etiquette,” invented by a privileged group as a pretext to distinguish themselves and express disdain toward ordinary people.
This is nothing new, nor is it unfamiliar. In the 19th century, a gentleman had to master a long and tedious list of social rules to participate in society. Today, one must adhere to a bizarre set of beliefs, largely based on the pseudoscientific notion that language can influence collective thought.
I had thought that, after the failed experiment of Soviet linguist Nikolai Marr—who tried to instill class consciousness in the people by rewriting Russian grammar—a certain kind of magical thinking had been definitively abandoned. Humanity’s obsession with magical words, however, is evidently hard to kill.
Compared to the tribal rituals of past aristocracies, the only novelty of political correctness is its resurrection of bizarre theories to justify its own existence. In the past, so-called aristocracies had the good taste to define etiquette solely to underline their privileges, without invoking science. Unfortunately, we live in an era where good taste is in short supply.
However, like the ritualized etiquette of the 19th century and Marr’s newspeak in the Soviet Union, political correctness is nothing more than an irritating attempt by a small group of privileged individuals to emphasize their difference from ordinary people and signal their belonging to a particular clan. In short, it is nothing that small-town men like me have not already endured with patience in the past.
The anger afflicting the Western world certainly does not stem from the fact that its so-called elite has adopted a bizarre etiquette. It runs deeper and originates from the hatred for Western democracies taught within academia.
The so-called theory of Social Justice (which has nothing to do with two hundred years of Catholic scholarship on income distribution in my country), "gender studies," critical race theory, "fat studies," and post-colonialism theory are all tools of a bizarre ideology that, in the name of science, fosters division and social conflict.
The pattern of these pseudosciences is simplistic, yet evidently effective: it begins with the denunciation of a conflict, continues with the identification of a villain and the division of society into oppressors and oppressed, and culminates in a call for revolution.
The underlying idea common to all these pseudosciences is that the so-called free world is deeply corrupt, indifferent to exploitation, and unaware of the dynamics of oppression that limit minority rights.
This alleged unawareness—attributed to a majority of oppressors whose identity shifts depending on the chosen framework—is a guilt borne by ordinary people, who must be “awakened,” punished, and educated, even against their will.
If Professor Krugman were genuinely interested in understanding the roots of the anger afflicting Western society, I believe he would benefit from taking a stroll through the university campuses where he worked for so many years.
To paraphrase Keynes, we might say that human societies, though they believe themselves free from any intellectual influence, are often slaves of some defunct intellectual. Madmen, who hear voices in the air, distill their frenzy from the scribblings of some forgotten scribbler of years gone by.
The story of a plutocracy of narcissists, drunk on delusions of omnipotence and threatening the freedom of the people, is an old one—and frankly, it has become tiresome.
While I don’t believe that the anger of the rich is a particularly significant social issue, I do agree with Krugman that Western society as a whole is angry. Unlike in the past, however, this anger is not solely rooted in economic reasons.
Like Krugman, I do not believe the origin of this anger lies in political correctness. At its core, political correctness is little more than a form of “etiquette,” invented by a privileged group as a pretext to distinguish themselves and express disdain toward ordinary people.
This is nothing new, nor is it unfamiliar. In the 19th century, a gentleman had to master a long and tedious list of social rules to participate in society. Today, one must adhere to a bizarre set of beliefs, largely based on the pseudoscientific notion that language can influence collective thought.
I had thought that, after the failed experiment of Soviet linguist Nikolai Marr—who tried to instill class consciousness in the people by rewriting Russian grammar—a certain kind of magical thinking had been definitively abandoned. Humanity’s obsession with magical words, however, is evidently hard to kill.
Compared to the tribal rituals of past aristocracies, the only novelty of political correctness is its resurrection of bizarre theories to justify its own existence. In the past, so-called aristocracies had the good taste to define etiquette solely to underline their privileges, without invoking science. Unfortunately, we live in an era where good taste is in short supply.
However, like the ritualized etiquette of the 19th century and Marr’s newspeak in the Soviet Union, political correctness is nothing more than an irritating attempt by a small group of privileged individuals to emphasize their difference from ordinary people and signal their belonging to a particular clan. In short, it is nothing that small-town men like me have not already endured with patience in the past.
The anger afflicting the Western world certainly does not stem from the fact that its so-called elite has adopted a bizarre etiquette. It runs deeper and originates from the hatred for Western democracies taught within academia.
The so-called theory of Social Justice (which has nothing to do with two hundred years of Catholic scholarship on income distribution in my country), "gender studies," critical race theory, "fat studies," and post-colonialism theory are all tools of a bizarre ideology that, in the name of science, fosters division and social conflict.
The pattern of these pseudosciences is simplistic, yet evidently effective: it begins with the denunciation of a conflict, continues with the identification of a villain and the division of society into oppressors and oppressed, and culminates in a call for revolution.
The underlying idea common to all these pseudosciences is that the so-called free world is deeply corrupt, indifferent to exploitation, and unaware of the dynamics of oppression that limit minority rights.
This alleged unawareness—attributed to a majority of oppressors whose identity shifts depending on the chosen framework—is a guilt borne by ordinary people, who must be “awakened,” punished, and educated, even against their will.
If Professor Krugman were genuinely interested in understanding the roots of the anger afflicting Western society, I believe he would benefit from taking a stroll through the university campuses where he worked for so many years.
To paraphrase Keynes, we might say that human societies, though they believe themselves free from any intellectual influence, are often slaves of some defunct intellectual. Madmen, who hear voices in the air, distill their frenzy from the scribblings of some forgotten scribbler of years gone by.
