The Whatever Axiom

In my book, there is a discussion of something called The Whatever Axiom:

On the poster [in my office] was a pseudo-equation that we in the office called The Whatever Axiom:

We all knew that cynical statement that if a lie is told often enough, it becomes the truth. Apparently, some nerdy wag decided to encode this saying in a mathematical formula, although he toned down the cynicism a bit by replacing the word “lie” with the more colloquial “whatever.” In any case, it caught the attention of my boss and has essentially become the mission statement for my job.

Matt is naively unaware of the sinister nature of this formula. To him, it is only a means to an end, a way to successfully brand products that his advertising firm oversees. He remains oblivious to the chaos created when the guardrails of what is true and what isn’t are gone.

The use of "whatever" instead of lie is even more insidious. Matt thinks "whatever" is used only because it is less formal, more “colloquial,” a way to make the slogan propagate more effectively. However, using “whatever” broadens the undermining power of the axiom considerably. When constructing a “whatever,” the author makes sure there is a smattering of truth. This is the tip of the spear that catches the recipient’s attention. Once this part of the message is accepted, the “whatever” you wish to make true follows, slipping into the mind of your audience unnoticed. Then, of course, rinse and repeat, ad infinitum.

When I coined this axiom, I thought that constant, unrelenting repetition was necessary for something to be accepted as true. In reality, the acceptance is logarithmic in nature, meaning that the second, third, and fourth exposures to the meme are far more binding than the 22nd, 23rd, and 24th times. The Whatever Axiom does feel very real, especially if the same meme is encountered day after day. Yet, to manufacture truth, not so many repetitions are actually needed. A falsehood can be completely cemented in the mind after a handful of exposures, long before an infinite stream is imbibed.

Another barrier to truth is the acceptance of whatever you hear as true. This takes a lot less energy. If you hear something that doesn’t sound right, you must then use additional cognitive resources to get to the bottom of the issue, which is both tiring and time-consuming. Given a choice, and with all the information that comes at us daily, it is far easier to accept something at face value. There is no automatic check for truth in one’s mind; many times, the mind will accept whatever is said. We do have cognitive “tripwires” to evaluate statements, but they are only activated if all three of these elements are in place: (1) a good, robust, foundational knowledge of the topic; (2) the habit of taking the time to check received information; and (3) the intellectual humility that one can be wrong and fooled by others.  

So, if you know nothing about the topic, you can be fooled. If you have a weakly developed habit of checking facts, you can be fooled. And if you are vain and cannot admit you are wrong, you can be fooled. Even if you have all three of the above, if you are tired and rushed, you can still be fooled. In short, the path to truth is an uphill battle.  

The modern Flat Earth movement is a perfect example. By flooding media platforms with thousands of hours of highly repetitive videos, conspiracy theories transform an unbelievable claim into something that feels plausible simply through raw exposure frequency. Algorithms place viewers inside distributed digital echo chambers where they see the same myth over and over again from seemingly independent creators. This multi-source repetition triggers a shortcut in the mind, which falsely convinces the listener that if so many people agree, it must be true. Even though the viewer possesses the education to know the Earth is a sphere, they are overwhelmed by the flashy, complex pseudo-science that completely exhausts their limited cognitive resources. Ultimately, the brain's natural internal "tripwire" that verifies errors switches off, letting a manufactured falsehood completely replace reality.

So, if we are all susceptible to this, how do we protect ourselves? Here is a list, by no means exhaustive, of some things to try:

1. When evaluating a claim, pause to ask, "What else could this be?" This simple step interrupts lazy pattern-matching and forces the consideration of alternative possibilities.
2. Prioritize open-ended questions beginning with "why" or "how" rather than closed-ended questions starting with "what." This forces the explanation of underlying reasoning and the retrieval of overlooked knowledge.
3. Look back at past patterns of evaluating statements to review where energy-saving shortcuts failed to catch falsehoods.
4. Deliberately ignore low-quality, emotionally manipulative, or unverified sites to preserve your limited critical thinking resources.
5. Force the assumption that a baseline claim is completely false, and then work backward to identify hidden blind spots and misleading deductions.

Pursuit of the truth is a timeless endeavor that has plagued thinkers for centuries. From Aristotle’s “unimpeachable evidence of the senses” to William James’s pragmatism, where truth successfully guides our handling of reality, truth has proven to be a slippery beast to capture. Now, with the continuous onslaught of media streams, that beast has become even wilder. Ultimately, if we fail to fine-tune our own mental tripwires, the raw onslaught of repetition will dictate what we accept as fact.