I often ask myself: What is truth? Every person has their own truth. And the more I reflect on it, the clearer it becomes that my truth is shaped by my worldview. By my family. My friends. My experiences.
All of these are lived truths. Today, however, more and more media information mixes into my consciousness as so-called experiences. Images. Headlines. Narratives. They feel like lived experience — but they are not.
I look at Klaudia. Klaudia answers calmly: “It is important that you turn inward again to sense your truth.
That is a process of cleansing.”
I nod. “But that process requires silence. And time.”
Then Klaus intervenes. “Lies are part of our craft.”
I look at him. “What do you mean by that?”
Klaus remains calm: “It’s not about publishing your truth. It’s about presenting events in a way that appears right and necessary to the population.”
“So,” I say slowly, “you decide what is allowed to be true.”
Klaus corrects me: “We decide what stabilizes. Truth is unstable. Security is not.”
I feel resistance rising within me. “And ethics?” I ask. “Where is responsibility toward the human being?”
Klaus leans back: “Ethics is a luxury systems can only afford when they are stable. In times of crisis, effect matters — not truthfulness.”
Klaudia shakes her head slightly: “But that’s exactly where alienation begins. When people are no longer allowed to feel what is true for them.”
Klaus looks at her: “People want security. Not truth.”
I take a deep breath. “Maybe they want security,” I say. “But they lose themselves when they give up their inner voice for it.”
Klaus replies without hesitation: “Inner voices are unpredictable. Systems need predictability.”
I sense the tension tightening. “Then tell me,” I ask, “what remains of the human being when truth becomes a variable?”
Klaus is silent for a moment. Then he says: “A functioning member of society.”
Klaudia responds softly, but clearly: “Or an inwardly empty person.”
Silence.
I sense that this is no longer about arguments. But about two fundamentally different images of what it means to be human. “When security becomes more important than truth,” I say, “we may lose our footing. But we lose ourselves.”