What Is Truth?

“We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

— Pogo

Human science has been deeply dependent on Turing machines since the 1950s. Vast bodies of modern knowledge — from climate modeling to particle physics to cryptography — are already computationally mediated in ways no individual human can fully reproduce or intuit. We've trusted machines with our science for more than seventy years. We didn't particularly notice, because they spoke to us in numbers.

What’s changed is not the mediation, but the interface. Machines now operate in human language, and that has triggered a crisis of epistemic status. Familiar signals of effort, intelligence, and authorship no longer reliably distinguish speakers.

We have been here before. When Gutenberg’s press made the written word reproducible, the gatekeepers of knowledge — the clergy, the scribes, the universities — did not celebrate the democratisation of thought. They panicked. If anyone could print a book, how would you know which books you could trust?

The answer, eventually, was not to ban the press or to police who was allowed to set type. It was to learn how to read — critically, carefully, and for oneself. That transition took generations and sadly cost many lives. We are at the beginning of another. We are not off to a great start.

There is a growing tendency on social media to treat certain phrases not as elements of meaning, but as forensic evidence of intellectual wrongdoing. Use the wrong wording or one emoji too many, and you’re no longer engaging in good-faith public discourse — you’re under suspicion. This is "AI detection" as epistemology, and it is fundamentally antithetical to the pursuit of science.

If we are suddenly suspicious of new truths because of the tools involved, intellectual honesty demands we revisit older ones that relied on similar machinery — but without the benefit of modern software testing or validation.

Selective skepticism isn’t rigor. It’s anxiety management, and it’s epistemic gatekeeping. And anxiety is a poor substitute for clarity.

As Pontius Pilate asked: “What is truth?”

Not as a sincere inquiry, but as a shrug of institutional responsibility.

We are entering a period where meaning matters more than provenance, good judgment more than vibes, and due care more than performative certainty. Policing phrases won’t get us there. Learning how to read — seriously, generously, and critically — still might. 🕊️