We look to our peers as much as the facts to confirm what we want to understand as settled issues.
We live in what is sometimes described as a “post-truth” age, where groups or individuals find supporters sharing questionable claims. Indeed, it’s not possible to study everyday human rhetoric without coming away with at least some respect for the idea of “post-truth” “intersubjectivity,” meaning that a cluster of people and media can agree on as “true,” “right,” or “just.” Even our naturally subjective selves can usually find others who share the same views.
It is the way of human groups to promote narratives that gain traction and acceptance, even if those looking in from the outside may see some clearly shaky reasoning. We look to our friends, influencers and family to confirm what we want to consider settled issues. Or a reference group may be climate deniers, religious groups, and any number of social media followers who have collected themselves in islands of intersubjective harmony. Acknowledging this process helps us see how the absurd can still be sustained within the culture.
It is hard to fathom how those living with the rhetorical knots that Donald Trump gleefully creates can see their beliefs as consistent or generous. But American myopia in the face of charlatans is baked into the culture. This is a country with a long history of witch-burners, fakers, impostors, con artists, land thieves, promoters of religious fairy tales, and ordinary larcenists. Finding ways to put a rhetorical covering on dubious acts or beliefs is relatively easy in a country this large.
This ease of believing in a fraudulent activity is seen in the documentary You Can See Everything (2026), which explores the ambiguities of belief expressed by convicted felon Elizabeth Holmes. Does she really believe that present 
technology can diagnose a host of medical conditions from a drop of blood? Will the laws of science or physics allow it? Does she think Theranos would have succeeded if she had more time to build out the fake blood analysis equipment? Holmes, her partner, and a collection of wealthy old men in her thrall were on their way to luring more investors and companies to sign up. Safeway alone spent $350 million gearing up its stores for what turned out to be bogus Theranos machines. Blood reports included false positives on what would be some serious medical conditions.
Here’s the dilemma. A consensus view of what’s possible still needs the affirmation of truth seekers; the more influential the better. It’s the same quandary for Republican operatives who show passive acceptance of the President’s constant misinformation more than any clear-eyed empiricism would allow.
When Intersubjectivity is as Good as it Gets
But there is another side to intersubjectivity. Consensus on a point of view about complex problems is another way to put some genuine value on intersubjective agreement. The idea has relevance because many important ideas involve claims of preference rather than claims of fact. For claims of preference or judgment, intersubjective agreement is as good as it gets. Should the U.S. reinstitute a compulsory draft? Would it be better to simplify the tax code with a straight income percentage rate? Is the constitutional stipulation of a non-proportional Senate still a good idea? Questions like these vie for supporters and critics, but there is no final truth to be discovered. Instead, we search for consensus on what might be “best” rather than what is “true.” Intersubjectivity is the only alternative when there is no absolute or fixed reference point. And so we vote, respond to questionnaires, seek out affinity groups where we feel at home, and learn to live with unbelievers who do not share our views.
The clear takeaway from this perspective is to resist the urge to reduce all differences to matters of fact. Using “is” in a sentence doesn’t make what follows a certifiable truth. That verb can be hopelessly misleading. In addition, humans are by nature storytellers, not computers. We are attracted to fantasies and faiths that allow us to sometimes live comfortably with our own shared delusions.
In addition, real-world communication is more about expression, not problem-solving. In fact, a person’s or a machine’s problem-solving efforts might be, for many of us, the least interesting thing we could note about them. Instead, we want to know who another person is, their sense of place, their feelings, attitudes, experiences, values, and their skills at reading behavioral cues, as imitated by MIT’s old “Kismet” Robot.
