I appreciate Dr. Hashim Muhammad Suleiman’s article “A Teacher and His Student: Journalism is Value-Laden.” And we need these kinds of articles to broaden the debate about journalism, particularly at this critical time overrun by “alternative facts” and spin. To begin with, the claim that journalism harbours “many truths” is not a harmless academic notion – but it’s a dangerous fallacy. In my opinion, Dr. Hashim’s suggestion that journalism is value-laden weakens its democratic mandate. When every story is treated as just one of many “truths,” lies, and propaganda gain equal footing with facts, and the press’s critical role of holding power to account is undermined.
The stakes could not be higher: equating every perspective as de facto truth opens the floodgates to misinformation, erodes public trust, and leaves society vulnerable, particularly in this era of information warfare. I want the reader to follow me closely as I place Dr. Hashim’s arguments in their proper perspective. Let’s briefly deconstruct the philosophical origins of the “many truths” thesis. I will do this as I understand it, and I will be excited to get a contrary and compelling opinion, for I believe that is one of the ways to enrich the debate and educate people. Recent historical antecedents, especially with politicians worldwide, have shown us how the notion of “alternative truths” has been deployed – wittingly or not – to discredit the very idea of objective journalism.
The notion that there are many truths has deep (and I believe dubious) philosophical roots. Let’s pause for a second and remember the Greek sophist Protagoras, who famously declared that man is the measure of everything. Meaning that truth is essentially subjective – true for me and true for you could differ. In Plato’s dialogue Theaetetus, Socrates explains Protagoras’s idea: What things seem to me is how they are for me; and what they seem to you is how they are for you.
This early claim that perception is reality–that there are as many truths as there are people – was met with skepticism by Plato, who recognized its peril: if all beliefs are equally true, how do we distinguish knowledge from ignorance?
The Platonic tradition argued that truth must denote something more solid than subjective opinion. Equating truth with personal perspective was argued by the Sophists, whom Socrates challenged for making persuasion more important than reality.
In modern terms, Protagoras was saying, “everyone has their own truth.” It might sound liberating, but as Plato understood, a society that accepts only “personal truths” ends up unable to call a lie a lie – a recipe for intellectual chaos.
Fast forward to the 19th century, and we find Friedrich Nietzsche provocatively reasserting a form of relativism. Nietzsche argued that what we call truths are really just illusions—human-made constructs we’ve used so often we’ve forgotten they’re just metaphors. We repeat their ideas until they lose their original vividness. In fact, Nietzsche argued that there are no absolute facts, only different ways of interpreting the world. This radical perspective – Nietzsche’s perspectivism – challenged the very notion of objective truth. To Nietzsche, what we call truth is often just the dominant interpretation, a convenient fiction of the powerful.
His aim was to free people from slavish acceptance of absolute truths, but the unintended consequence of “no facts, only interpretations” is a license for extreme relativism. Indeed, in today’s debates, one hears Nietzsche’s echo: “Everyone has their own reality.” But should we really embrace a view that any claim, no matter how false, can be “true” in its own frame? Nietzsche’s insight was meant to unmask illusions, not to say that fabricated falsehoods are as good as verified truths. Yet, stripped of nuance, the many truths idea became a convenient refuge for those who would blur the line between truth and falsehood.
Islamic intellectual tradition, which my teacher wanted to smuggle in to justify his criticisms of WikkiTimes’ story on Bala Lau, also weighs heavily on objective truth, and the need to seek it diligently. Medieval polymath Abu Hamid al-Ghazali, as Dr Hashim would know, faced an epistemological crisis when he realized how easily perceptions can deceive. Al-Ghazali noted that even our strongest senses mislead us.Sight may be our strongest sense, and we might believe a shadow is still there just by looking at it. But over time, we see it has shifted—proving that what our senses suggest can be completely wrong. As the author concludes, even our senses can’t be fully trusted as a source of certainty.
He then doubted reason’s reliability, wondering if a higher intelligence might reveal our logic to be flawed just as reason revealed the senses to err. Al-Ghazali ultimately overcame radical doubt through faith and transcendental experience, but the upshot is telling: he did not celebrate multiple truths—he anguished to find the real truth, knowing that unexamined assumptions (be they personal or popular) can be false.
Let’s again pause for a second and remember the great 14th-century Muslim historian Ibn Khaldun, who argued that truth in reporting is hard-won and easily lost. In his Muqaddimah, Ibn Khaldun warned that historians (or by extension, journalists) fall into “seven mistakes,” foremost among them– partisanship. He believes that when the mind is biased toward a certain belief or group, it quickly accepts any information that supports it. This kind of prejudice clouds judgment and blocks genuine inquiry. In other words, bias blinds us – people readily believe “truths” that flatter their side and ignore evidence to the contrary. Ibn Khaldun insisted that we discern truth from false reports only by critical investigation.
He even identified scholars’ tendency to please rulers at the expense of truth (what we would now call propaganda or “spin”) as a major pitfall. Far from endorsing many truths, Ibn Khaldun was effectively outlining a proto-scientific method for journalists: be impartial, verify rigorously, and do not take every claim at face value, because reality exists whether we like it or not.
There is a lesson we can learn across these traditions – Western and Islamic. There may be many perspectives, but not all can be true. Reality is one, even if our views of it are many. The “many truths” thesis, taken to mean every narrative is equally valid, has been consistently challenged by serious thinkers throughout history. Why does this relativist thesis keep resurfacing, and who benefits from it? To answer that, we must turn to how the idea is deployed in modern journalism and politics.
The suggestion that “journalism is value-laden” and thus any version of a story is just as valid as any other is not a neutral observation – it’s often a move that undercuts journalism’s authority. Historically, those in power or those peddling falsehoods have embraced the language of “many truths.” Why? If everything is true, then nothing is false, and nobody can be held accountable. We saw this phenomenon starkly in the postmodern turn of the late 20th century, when some academics argued that objectivity is a myth and all narratives are constructed. But what began as nuanced critiques of bias in knowledge was soon co-opted by less scrupulous actors.
And now, in the 21st century, “post-truth” politics have arrived, making it convenient for public figures to dismiss unfavourable facts as “just your truth.” They do this by pushing the narratives of “alternative facts” for themselves. The goal is simple – to create enough confusion that the public gives up on ever knowing the truth. As one commentator noted, false news flourishes because it aligns with what people are already inclined to believe. When a narrative confirms personal biases, individuals are more likely to embrace it as their truth—even if it’s a lie—particularly in a climate where the very idea of objective truth is being questioned or dismissed.
Propagandists and tyrants have employed this tactic through the ages. In Orwell’s fictional 1984 it was “doublethink”; today it might be called “fake news” or just extreme spin. The effect is the same: disorient the public. Consider how some governments respond when caught in wrongdoing. Rather than refute the facts (often impossible), they muddy the waters: There are many versions of this story; who’s to say which is true? What they are really saying is: there is no truth, so you might as well believe the version that favors us. This erosion of the idea of truth has been devastating for journalism. By its nature, a vigilant press seeks to check the powerful by exposing facts, but if the powerful convince people that facts are relative, the watchdog’s bark falls on deaf ears.
It’s no coincidence that misinformation skyrockets in an environment of relativism. With respect, Dr Hashim, pause for a second and think about the onslaught of conspiracy theories and bogus claims making the rounds every day on social media. In a healthier information climate, outrageous falsehoods could be quickly debunked by referencing shared, agreed-upon facts. But in a “many truths” climate, every falsehood just finds its own echo chamber and calls itself a truth.
The result is informational anarchy – exactly what bad actors want. During the 2016 Brexit and U.S. election campaigns, for instance, trolls and state-sponsored disinformers didn’t need to convince everyone of a single big lie; it was enough to bombard people with so many conflicting claims that truth itself seemed elusive. This is what one former White House strategist infamously described as “flooding the zone with s**t” – overwhelm the public with versions so that factual journalism drowns in a sea of “truths.” It’s a cynical use of relativism: turn the lofty idea that everyone’s voice matters into the pernicious claim that everyone’s lie matters too.
We must ask bluntly: who gains when journalism is seen as just storytelling with no privileged link to reality? Not the ordinary citizen searching for reliable information. The winners are those who have something to hide or sell – corrupt politicians, coorupt scholars, extremists, propagandists, and even certain media executives who prefer audiences as cynical consumers rather than engaged citizens. When we say “journalism is value-laden” to imply “journalism is just opinion”, this discredit the press when it reveals inconvenient facts. It is an anti-democratic sleight of hand: if professional journalism is just one truth among many, why not give equal credence to a dictator’s press release or a meme from your uncle’s WhatsApp? In this way, the high ideal of pluralism (many voices in dialogue) gets twisted into a nihilistic pluralism (anything goes, so nothing counts).
At a recent lecture I delivered at Grand Valley State Univeristy in Michigan, one of the arguments I reiterated was the idea that at its core, journalism in a democracy is tasked with pursuing and reporting truth as faithfully as humanly possible. Veteran journalists and ethicists often argue that the first principle of journalism is “obligation to the truth.”
Democracy depends on citizens having accurate information. Yes, journalists are humans with viewpoints, and yes, journalism can be “value-laden” in that it often champions values like accountability and justice. But these values are in service of truth-telling, not a substitute for it.
Dr Hashim may remember Jürgen Habermas, famous German philosopher who analyzed the rise of the free press in the Enlightenment era. In one of his arguments, he noted that the public arena (or public sphere) emerged specifically to hold authorities accountable through reasoned, critical debate. In this context, newspapers and journals were crucial in creating an informed public that could hold government accountable by engaging in informed and critical public dialogue.
That informed discourse assumes that evidence and truth still matter – it’s not a free-for-all of “truths,” but a deliberation aimed at finding the truth (or at least the best approximation of it).
The values that “value-laden journalism” should carry are precisely those that promote truth-finding: verification, fairness, and a commitment to factual accuracy. Habermas and other scholars warned that when media turn away from truth-seeking towards pure sensationalism or partisanship, the public sphere degrades, and democracy suffers.
Equating all journalistic expressions as equally valid truths fundamentally betrays journalism’s public mandate. Consider the difference between a rigorous investigative report and a piece of pure propaganda. An investigative journalist digs for facts, corroborates sources, and seeks to reveal something hidden but objectively real – say, a government’s secret surveillance program or corporate pollution cover-up. This journalist operates under a duty to inform the public of “what is actually happening,” which is in line with what Habermas called the critical publicity function of the press.
Dr Hashim, I must quickly admit that good journalism does not claim godlike infallibility – mistakes happen, perspectives differ, and healthy media includes opinions and analysis. But even opinion pieces are strengthened by being grounded in verifiable facts. The proper response to inherent biases is to diversify media and encourage transparency, not to pretend every bias creates a new truth.
Pluralism in journalism means we hear many voices, but those voices still strive to illuminate the same reality. The climate reporter and the business reporter might emphasize different aspects of a new environmental law – one highlights ecological impact, another economic – but if both are honest, the facts they report should not directly contradict each other. They contribute to a fuller shared truth, each from their own perspective.
Let me conclude by conceding that Journalism has never been a pure mirror of reality – human beings have biases and perspectives, and absolute objectivity may be an unrealistic ideal. But the solution is not to throw up our hands and say,truth is subjective—there’s no single version, just multiple perspectives to choose from.
That approach amounts to intellectual surrender at a time we can least afford it. Instead, we must reclaim and reaffirm journalism’s commitment to truth as a guiding star.
That means acknowledging that while journalism is indeed “value-laden,” its core value is truth-telling in the public interest, and not all values are created equal. The value of accurate, evidence-based reporting far outweighs the “value” of giving an audience what it wants to hear or providing a momentary comic diversion.
We should celebrate the diversity of voices and angles in media – yes, a financial reporter and a satirist can both contribute meaningfully – but we must not pretend that every voice is equally truthful when measured against reality.
Some reporting is rigorous, some is shoddy; some is brave, some is agenda-driven; some is illuminating, some is misleading. To democracy, only the first kind is nourishment – the rest is poison or empty calories.
Haruna Mohammed Salisu, a graduate student at Indiana University, is the founder and Publisher of WikkiTimes. He can be reached at harunababale@wikkitimes.com
