Philosophy in the age of post-truth politics
- Hannah McHugh, Catarina Neves & Mia Salminen
- May 18
- 8 min read
Updated: May 22

Political consensus is breaking down, and all sides are pointing fingers: “You don’t care about facts.” The label for this phenomenon? The post-truth era. We’ve moved beyond the 20th-century idea that public debate should rest on shared, objective truths. In its place is a fog of subjectivity—or outright rejection of facts altogether.
In times of crisis, when uncertainty breeds fear and misinformation spreads like wildfire, public discourse often descends into polarised battles of "right versus wrong" or "informed versus misinformed." This comes at an especially undesirable time with looming issues that require unprecedented amounts of international coordination and agreement (from ecological catastrophe to widening inequality).
While this binary mindset is tempting, offering a sense of clarity in an otherwise chaotic world, it obscures the reality of our political disagreements.
Philosophy can reveal the crux of the issue: we’re not just disagreeing — we’re talking past each other.
It’s tempting to think we just need to get “back to the facts.” But, fortunately or unfortunately, facts alone were never enough. While the current situation is unique in its severity of polarised views, people have always interpreted information through deeply rooted worldviews—belief systems shaped by past experiences, assumptions, and biases. In all cases, our interpretive frameworks will contain some truths and some errors. No one person can plausibly know objectively what constitutes truth or fact. Our internal filters decide which facts we accept and which we reject. When new information clashes with our established beliefs, it often gets dismissed—regardless of its truth.
What’s new in the 2020s isn’t human bias—it’s the information overload. We now have fragmented media landscapes and social media algorithms that personalise (and polarise) everything. Traditional media outlets are ideologically split, and platforms feed us content that aligns with what we already believe, reinforcing our individual echo chambers. Most importantly, for social media algorithms, success comes from increased engagement. Hence, incentives are set in favour of argumentative and aggravating online debate; precisely what we may need to fight against.
Yet, we are optimistic. Philosophy has tools to help us understand why and how we disagree, and to point us towards the path for better public discourse. Indeed, this is the mission of What to do about now?
What can philosophy do?
Political philosophy is needed, perhaps even more when we face political challenges that cannot be explained, nor solved, by “the conventional wisdom of the day”. To justify our position, we introduce the kind of things that philosophers know how to do well:
Philosophy demands clarity on what we are arguing about, and why;
Philosophy teaches us how to disagree—not just what to think;
Philosophy creates the conditions for new futures.
(1) Philosophy analyses problems differently.
Lack of clarity plagues our discussions, particularly in pinpointing what it is that we are discussing. Philosophy asks us to be clear: what is it that we are disagreeing on? What is it that we believe should change in our opponent’s view? Or, what exactly is it that we find problematic in their perspective?
Once you identify the value behind your view, philosophy helps unpack what that value really involves and requires. Take “freedom”—the word is beloved across the political spectrum, but it doesn’t always mean the same thing. One person might reject taxation in the name of negative freedom (freedom from interference), while another might support progressive taxes to ensure positive freedom (freedom to achieve self-realisation).
Philosophy does the forensic work of uncovering which values ground different perspectives—even when we still disagree. It asks what our ultimate goals are, while demanding us to consider how these goals relate to specific values. Additionally, it makes us grapple with the question of which values we care about the most, and why. Hence, it forces critical reflection. Notice how this is different from other disciplines, which oftentimes take assumptions as given, instead of fleshing them out, let alone problematising them.
(2) Philosophy discusses problems differently:
The real power of philosophy isn’t just in how it breaks problems down—it’s in how it teaches us to talk about them.
First, philosophy pushes us to frame our views through different ethical lenses. Are you approaching a debate like a utilitarian, weighing outcomes and consequences? Or are you guided by care ethics, where interdependence and empathy take centre stage? Recognising the framework we’re using helps to surface the assumptions shaping our stance.
Second, philosophy trains us in intellectual humility. It reminds us that there’s always another perspective worth considering—even when we feel sure of our own. This is crucial in political debates, where tensions often come from value clashes that seem unsolvable. Take responsibility: we might believe in personal accountability and admit that many life outcomes are shaped by factors outside our control—social, natural, or even market-driven luck.
Philosophy doesn’t tell us to stop defending our views—it just reminds us to leave room for the possibility that we’re wrong. It asks us to be curious about our own views as well as the views of others. This form of reasoned argument is what keeps the conversation honest and thoughtful.
(3) Philosophy offers new perspectives:
Philosophy forces us to concede that how we interpret specific values might differ, but also that social conditions around us affect what we perceive as desirable change. Only by doing this, can we accept that our opinions might be wrong. This is not a weakness. This is what makes us always susceptible to wonder, and hence, puts us on the path to become “question-asking beings".[1]
With the acknowledgement that we may be wrong, comes a liberating possibility: there may always be a better possible future. Being open to wonder helps us consider new alternatives, while simultaneously, diagnosing the difficulties involved in bringing them about. This, however, requires at least two things.
First, philosophical inquiry can only turn into new alternatives if it engages with other disciplines; for instance to understand historical processes as well as social and material conditions.
Second, philosophy’s agenda should not be about imposing the truth onto others through the destruction of opinion. Instead, it is an invitation to adopt a method for collectively reflecting upon problems. The point of philosophy is to help us understand what truth means to each one of us and why.
Philosophers are in the business of open dialogue. We do not have a special kind of knowledge, we simply take less for granted.
Philosophy and the Path to Better Public Discourse
The binary mindset of “right and wrong” that plagues our contemporary discussions offers a sense of clarity in an otherwise chaotic world. Yet, it obscures the more important reality: many of our disagreements are not just about facts, but about the values that underpin our views. Philosophy, with its emphasis on critical reflection, open dialogue and reasoned argument offers us the tools to improve this discourse and engage more productively with each other. Rather than simply trying to prove opponents “wrong”, we should focus on understanding the values and beliefs that shape their perspectives—and our own. This approach not only fosters greater respect, it also creates the possibility of building a shared foundation for political consensus.
Consider the rise of populist sentiment and the spread of online conspiracy theories as an example. Those who embrace populist narratives often speak in the language of “the people”—a term that carries deep emotional and moral weight. For many, “the people” represents a sense of community, tradition, and belonging that feels increasingly under threat in an era of globalisation and cultural change. Philosophically, we might ask: who constitutes ‘the people’? Is it a pure, homogeneous group defined by ethnicity or culture? Or is it a democratic collective bound by shared civic values? These questions matter because they reveal the underlying assumptions and values that shape populist views. For some, preserving “the people” may be seen as a higher moral imperative than safeguarding individual rights, especially if those rights are perceived to threaten the cohesion of the group.
In such cases, factual disputes about specific events or policies often take a backseat to this “deeper truth”—a narrative that speaks to perceived existential threats. For instance, conspiracy theories that spread online, whether about election fraud or secret elites, are not just about misinformation. They often resonate because they reflect deeper anxieties about the erosion of national identity, sovereignty, or moral values. Engaging in “fact matches” to debunk these theories rarely changes minds because the facts themselves are not the real issue. Beneath the surface lies a complex web of beliefs and values that need to be acknowledged and discussed. Not dismissed. These beliefs and values may be a genuine challenge to the liberal commitment to the equal moral worth of persons. We must engage in reflective reasoning about what matters most, and how the emerging values should shape our societies.
Philosophy teaches us that genuine dialogue requires moving beyond surface-level disagreements and engaging with the values that shape people’s worldviews. When we take this approach, we stop seeing others as simply “misinformed” and start recognising that others’ views—however extreme they may seem—often reflect a moral framework. By asking questions, seeking clarification, and challenging assumptions respectfully, we create space for a more reflective and respectful discourse. This approach forces us, too, to confront our own biases and assumptions. Are we prepared to defend our values with reasoned arguments? Can we articulate why individual rights, pluralism, or liberal democracy are worth preserving? Engaging in philosophical reflection pushes us to do so.
When we engage in value-based dialogue, we open the door to finding common ground. While deep differences will always exist, identifying shared concerns—such as a desire for fairness, security, or belonging—can create opportunities for political consensus. Philosophy’s methods, of critical reflection, open dialogue, and reasoned argument, can help us build bridges across ideological divides. This does not mean abandoning our principles or tolerating harmful ideologies, but rather recognising that lasting change and meaningful dialogue require addressing the values that inspire opposing views.
Ultimately, a philosophical approach to public discourse fosters the conditions for respectful discourse — not as mere passive acceptance, but as an active, and often critical, effort to understand where others are coming from. In times of crisis, this kind of engagement is not a luxury but a necessity. If we want to build a healthier, more resilient democracy, we must embrace the hard work of reasoning about values, seeking common ground, and showing respect for the complexity of human beliefs.
Philosophy reminds us that behind every opinion lies a deeper story—and that understanding these stories is the first step towards building a more thoughtful and inclusive public sphere.
[1] Hannah Arendt, 1990
About the Authors

Hannah McHugh is a Postdoctoral Researcher at Utrecht University, working in the project ‘Visions for the Future’. Previously, she was a postdoctoral fellow of the Justitia Centre for Advanced Studies at Goethe University Frankfurt am Main. Hannah conducted her PhD in Political Theory at University College London and has taught at the London School of Economics. Hannah is a Labour Party Councillor in Islington. Her main areas of interest are theories of political responsibility and social change, feminist and neo-republican political theory, as well as philosophical approaches to the
contemporary market economy.

Catarina Neves is a Postdoctoral researcher at Utrecht University, working in the project ‘Visions for the Future’. Previously, she worked as a teaching assistant at Nova School of Business and Economics, in Lisbon, where she lectured the course on Ethics. She earned a PhD in Philosophy from University of Minho, Braga, in 2023, with a thesis on Unconditional Basic Income. Her interests include Reciprocity and Basic Income, and more recently, post-growth futures.

Mia Salminen is a recent MSc graduate student in Political Theory (Leiden University) and Economics (VU Amsterdam). She is currently a research intern at the Netherlands Scientific Council for Government Policy (WRR) and research assistant at the University of Amsterdam. In 2023, she graduated with Honors in Philosophy, Politics and Economics (PPE, VU Amsterdam). She is passionate about research in which empirical and normative insights are combined, in particular in connection to questions of (socio)economic injustice.
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