Stories Spread Faster than Hatred
There is an ancient and universal truth that every storyteller knows, perhaps less intellectually than instinctively: that there is a strong organic connection between memory and story.
The Baker/baker paradox is a brilliant study that illustrates this fact. This well-known research has been conducted with various groups of people in different settings and each time the results have been strikingly similar.
The researchers show the participants the photograph of a complete stranger. The people in the first group are informed that the stranger’s surname is Baker. Whereas the people in the second group are told that the stranger is a baker.
A week later the participants are invited back and handed the same photograph. They are then asked to come up with some accompanying words to match the image of this unknown person. Interestingly, those in the first group are more likely to struggle to remember the stranger’s name.
“What was this guy called? Agh, it is on the tip of my tongue…”
But the ones in the second group easily remember that the guy was a baker.
Why is that? Because our brains are constantly telling stories, and also, searching stories. Because since time immemorial we have been storytelling animals. This is how we connect, this is how we relate, and this is how we remember.
As soon as we hear that a person is a baker, we think of bread and sacks of flour… a warm smell, the familiar taste of bread on a winter’s morning…. and so on. Our senses are immediately activated. Hence our memory becomes stronger.
The name disappears, but the feeling stays.
And the feeling is almost always attached to a story.
Memory, stories, emotions…. the three are deeply connected.
The British neurologist, writer and naturalist Oliver Sacks has given us so much to think about and to learn from. This is how he explains the power of music, for instance: “… the parts of the brain which respond to music are very close to the parts of the brain concerned with memory, emotion, and mood.” Sacks worked with many Alzheimer’s patients who, even when they had forgotten so much of their lives, brightened up upon hearing a song from their childhood. “And the familiar songs will bring back memories…. all this which has been lost in amnesia will come back…”
That is why art and literature are capable of reinvigorating the most hidden layers and buried rivers in our psyche.
Storytellers are bridge builders.
The doors of literature need to remain open to people from diverse backgrounds and opinions. It matters that those who do not meet around the same table and break bread together, can still read the same novel, relate to the same story.
In any society, should the shared space erode too quickly, duality inevitably becomes the norm. Us versus them. But history reminds us that it won’t stay that way for long. It will fracture into even more dualities—epistemological tribes that no longer speak to each other, but only speak about each other. This atmosphere of constant division, suspicion, distrust, tension, and antagonism fosters the growth of hatred, and ultimately, of violence and dehumanisation.
Democracy requires shared values. This doesn’t mean we must agree on everything—far from it—but it does mean we need a common foundation built on core principles such as rule of law, pluralism, equality, and dignity. Without a shared sense of reality, democracy cannot function.
The Filipino- American journalist and public intellectual and Nobel Prize Laureate Maria Ressa is one of the bravest and most lucid voices today writing about the dangers of misinformation and echo chambers. Her warnings are not only pertinent to the Philippines, Turkey, or Hungary, but increasingly relevant globally.
Lies spread faster than facts, says Ressa.
That is because lies are more interesting, more colourful, and also, they are often attached to basic emotions. They activate our senses: fear, anxiety, anger, and so on. No wonder they are used as tools by many aspiring autocrats. “If you can make people believe lies are the facts, then you can control them.”
Based on her extensive research on social media Ressa concludes: “A tweet that’s a lie, especially if laced with anger & hate, you are more prone to retweet it 70% of the time.”
But here is an interesting detail that she also shares, and I believe this is the message that we need to highlight and amplify:
“Inspiration spreads as fast as anger.”
We need stories for inspiration. We need the art of storytelling.
This is the Age of Angst—an existential anxiety that cuts deep, affecting young and old alike. But we must engage passionately with this world, not withdraw from it. We need to connect with our fellow human beings—beyond borders—and with nature—beyond hubris—so that this age does not devolve and descend into an Age of Apathy.
So I hope the wonderful Maria Ressa will allow me to add this small line to her powerful thoughts:
“Lies spread faster than facts, but inspiration spreads as fast as anger.”
And inspiring stories not only move us in the most unexpected and uplifting ways, but their impact endures as they stay with us far longer.
While reading an image manifested in my mind. On the surface there is this river of lies, judgements, violence, othering, censoring. Maybe this has to happen, maybe it is a cleaning. But underneath that there is this river of connection, of inspiration, of stories, of believing, of love, of accepting. it is like the water under the desert. Sometimes it surfaces and creates an oase. Just to remember that it is there. What we need now are stories in which we remember that second current so that its seeds can blossom again when the dirty river has dried up. Impermanence, the strong inspiration that what ever you do matters because it is a contribution to the future. Even if they would ban the song 'imagine' imagination will grow.
The thought that something kinder and more vibrant can spread as easily as lies is comforting. Thanks for this perspective.