The Truth is a Story — Seek “What Is” to Find Reality

Knowledge as stories

I just came across this quote by writer, critic, and public intellectual Susan Sontag, “The truth is always something that is told, not something that is known. If there were no speaking or writing, there would be no truth about anything. There would only be what is.”

It’s mind-blowing.

Let’s attempt to unpack it.

Objective truth is a story we tell ourselves. Reality is what it is. But how do we get to reality unfiltered?

It’s not that simple.

Even scientific objective truth is passed on in words or writing. You could argue that everything we know about our universe is expert stories in an attempt to get to reality.

“Science can’t exist without telling a story. The question is not whether we should use it, but how we should use it best,” writes Nick Enfield, professor of linguistics at the University of Sydney and head of the Post Truth Initiative.

If you ripped all the books off shelves and silenced every conversation, reality wouldn’t vanish. But our understanding of it would be gone.

You see a red car. Is it red, really? Light bounces off the car in a specific way, triggering your cones to fire a “red” message to your brain. But that’s your experience, not some objective redness existing out there.

Call it the raw data of reality.

Seeking what is almost near impossible, but try anyway.

Now, let’s get back to the red car.

How would you tell someone about it if they had not seen it yet? You translate that experience — the light and neurons — into words. “Red car,” you say. That’s the story. And stories are where things get interesting. Your story — the red car — is shaped by your language, experiences, and maybe even light outside or in a showroom.

Someone else might call it maroon, cherry, or brick-coloured. Their story is different, but does that mean it’s wrong? Not necessarily. Both stories point to the same raw data, the “what is” that Sontag talks about.

Imagine a world with no language, no stories.

Just silent movies: a sunrise, a falling leaf, a predator stalking prey. These are all “what is” objective realities. But without narration, there’s no understanding, no meaning. Is the sunrise beautiful or terrifying? Is the leaf a symbol of decay or renewal? The predator’s hunger — is it nature’s order or a monstrous act?

We can’t say.

We like stories because they bridge the gap between “what is” and what it means. You witness a car accident. The wreckage, the screams — that’s “what is.” But to make sense of it, you need a story.

You piece together the events, assign blame, and draw lessons. The story becomes your truth, shaping your perception of future accidents.

It doesn’t mean all stories are equal. Whoever controls the narrative controls the perception of truth. Lies and propaganda are stories, too, but they distort “what is” for personal gain.

The challenge is to become a discerning storyteller.

Become a savvy consumers of stories, questioning the source, the agenda, the hidden biases. Don’t just accept the first narrative you hear. Sift through the narratives, question their sources and biases. Seek truth that clarifies rather than obscure. And find stories that resonate with your experiences.

Knowledge as stories

The subjective truth can be frustrating.

You want facts, absolutes.

For all its objectivity, science is still a story. It tells a tale of cause and effect, of patterns observed in the universe. Scientific truths are constantly evolving as we gather new evidence and refine our narratives. With every groundbreaking discovery, the “what is” of the atom gets rewritten.

Gravity isn’t a law etched in stone; it’s a powerful explanation of what we observe falling objects do. So, where does this leave us?

It’s a question to ponder.

Sontag’s quote pushes us to be better storytellers. We must be aware of our biases and the lenses through which we see the world. We need to seek out different stories, compare experiences, and challenge our narratives.

Sontag’s quote applies in all areas of life.

For example, a detective board is filled with stories instead of clues. The more stories you pin up, the closer you get to a fuller picture of what is out there. It might not be a single, perfect truth but a rich collection of stories from countless threads.

Here’s the challenge of getting to what it is.

Actively seek out those different stories. Read books by people who disagree with you. Talk to strangers. Listen deeply, even when it’s uncomfortable. Because the more stories you gather, the better equipped you are to understand the ever-shifting truth.

Stories aren’t just about explaining the world but about shaping it. The stories we tell ourselves — about our capabilities, limitations, and place in the world — become our reality.

Imagine a student who constantly hears, “You’re bad at math.” That story can become a self-fulfilling prophecy, limiting their potential. Change the story — “You might struggle, but with effort, you can improve” — and you open doors.

We can rewrite our stories.

Recognising truth as a story empowers us.

We become active participants, not passive receivers. We challenge misleading narratives, crafting our own stories that better reflect the world we want to live in.

The journey of seeking “what is” becomes an ongoing conversation. We listen to others’ stories, enriching our own understanding. We share our narratives, adding to the human experience. It’s messy but dynamic.

Humans thrive on stories.

That’s how we pass knowledge on. You can get closer to what is. But you must become a critical listener, a discerning reader, and a courageous narrator. In the end, it’s not just about understanding the world; it’s about creating the world we want to understand.

Stories have power.

They can inspire, comfort, ignite violence. A well-told story can make the “what is” more real, more relatable. Think about historical fiction. It might not be factual, but it can bring the past alive, spark empathy for people long gone.

The truth may be a story, but it’s a story worth telling. It has the power to illuminate the world, foster understanding, and maybe — just maybe — bridge the gaps between us.

So keep telling stories, but let’s be good, responsible storytellers, forever seeking the best version of the truth we can find.

Objective stories matter.