As human beings, our time on Earth is limited, and equally limited is the attention we can devote to the infinite details that surround us.
In the grand scheme of things, details seem insignificant—or at least only significant when they’re predictable, manageable, and within our control. This is crucial, since, in reality, we rarely have the privilege to choose which details matter.
We simply don’t have time to determine which details are or aren’t important.
Instead, we’re often persuaded, convinced, or outright manipulated by others through the compelling power of storytelling. Stories shape our understanding of what matters and what doesn’t.
Recently, I asked a science communicator friend what he believed to be the main propagator of truth. We both hold the scientific method in high esteem, acknowledging it as a rigorous process aimed at consensus, precision, and detail. Yet, for most people, engaging directly with research papers, painstaking verification processes, or meticulous descriptions of scientific findings isn’t realistic. So again, I asked: what primarily propagates truth among people?
His answer was straightforward and unsettling: stories.
Isn’t that absurd? Stories?
Stories—the same tool that convinces billions to accept lies without question.
Stories—the same mechanism that leaders and dictators exploit to soothe fears, manipulate minds, and drive people to commit extraordinary acts, whether beautiful or terrifying.
Stories—the very engine behind personal suffering, relentless ambition, and self-centered pursuits.
And yet, this ephemeral, fluid thing called storytelling is also entrusted with carrying scientific truth.
Isn’t that ironic? Not only ironic, but profoundly dangerous and uncontrollable. A well-crafted story can easily distort reality, mask crucial priorities, alter human behavior, and eventually, corrupt even the original narrative it sought to promote.
It seems clear, then, that even when guided by science or objective truths, without strong storytelling skills, the message inevitably falls flat. Excessive detail—no matter how accurate—is often rejected or ignored by audiences.
This becomes particularly critical when dealing with challenging, nuanced issues like governing morality for a planet inhabited by 8.5 billion diverse individuals. Isn’t that fascinating to contemplate?
Perhaps stories resonate so deeply precisely because they mirror the inner structure of our own consciousness—our lived experience as inhabitants of Earth.
But before delving further, and before offering guidance or direction, I must admit to a fundamental unease—an unease rooted in our inherent dependence on stories. It troubles me deeply to realize that we must rely on stories to communicate, to motivate ourselves toward our goals, and yet never have an ultimate, universally objective narrative available.
Yet, perhaps there is hope in our awareness.
If stories indeed hold such immense power, then it becomes our collective duty not only to craft them responsibly but to listen to them critically—questioning, verifying, and thoughtfully discerning the truths we let shape our reality.
Perhaps the careful study of stories, their structures, and how they influence imagination represents a vital frontier for humanity. Could it be that our liberation from being mere slaves to stories lies precisely in understanding their influence and consciously choosing which narratives we allow defining us?
I envision a comprehensive mathematical framework designed to systematically construct stories, predict conflicts within narratives, and strategically dismantle misleading tales at their surface level.
Also published on Medium.
