What We’ve Grown Used To: Hate, Noise, and the Erosion of Truth

Hate Is a Toxic Divider

Using fear and the demonization of the “other” is nothing new in the world of communications. Throughout history, political movements and leaders have relied on the same basic formula: identify an enemy, amplify fear, and convince people that their rights, safety, or identity are under threat. Nationalism wrapped in anger, hatred, and sometimes violence has been used for centuries to mobilize supporters and silence dissent.

What is new is the scale, speed, and technological power with which this strategy now operates.

In an age dominated by social media—and at a time when traditional journalism is struggling —narratives built on fear can spread in minutes. Local newspapers have shrunken. Into the vacuum have stepped partisan players, false accounts, and algorithm-driven platforms that reward outrage over accuracy.

At the same time, new technologies have dramatically lowered the cost of deception. Fake videos, manipulated images, and fabricated news stories can be produced quickly and distributed widely. Artificial intelligence now makes it possible to generate convincing video or audio that never actually happened. These tools allow bad actors to manufacture events, distort reality, and deepen confusion about what is true.

When people no longer agree on basic facts, hate becomes a tool to mobilize.

Public discourse—once shaped largely by institutions such as journalism, education, and civic organizations—is now easily distorted by extremists who amplify misinformation and suppress inconvenient truths. Lies travel quickly. Emotion travels fast too.

We can see this dynamic unfolding in many places around the world today. Extremist movements from South America to Europe to parts of Asia rely on the same message: the “others” are taking your rights, they are committing crimes, and the institutions meant to protect you are failing. The conclusion is always the same—we must unite to save the nation.

The script rarely changes because it works.

What may be new in this old playbook is the reaction from those who oppose it. When Abraham Lincoln warned that “a house divided against itself cannot stand,” he spoke in an era without mass communications. Today, division can be engineered and amplified with extraordinary efficiency.

Modern extremists often deploy outrage as a strategy. Hate speech, inflammatory rhetoric, and shocking acts are designed not only to energize their supporters but also to provoke their opponents. Social media quickly fills with anger and alarm as people share articles, videos, and memes expressing shock and disgust.

But an important question follows: is that engagement—or distraction?

If opponents spend their energy reacting to every provocation, they can lose focus on building coalitions, crafting policy responses, or organizing for real change. Outrage can exhaust movements as effectively as it mobilizes them. It can fragment attention, drain hope, and leave people feeling powerless. And, that seems to be the idea...

Over the past year, the political environment has become a crumbling foundation. The deeper one digs, the more structural damage appears. While wars and crises capture public attention, other developments quietly unfold: normalization of racist rhetoric, attacks on democratic institutions, and the erosion of long-standing rights.

People protest. They speak out. They express outrage when rights are stripped away, when historic institutions are weakened, or when democratic safeguards are threatened.

Yet when economic policies begin to quietly erode household stability—when healthcare costs explode, the job market stagnates, or savings shrink—the reaction is sometimes more muted. The damage accumulates slowly, almost invisibly.

Friends of mine in Canada often express disbelief when they look south. Their confusion is not only about political threats but about how many people appear to accept behavior from leaders that would once have been unimaginable. Some think it is funny ; others assume it will eventually pass.

But normalization is powerful.

When I was a child, my family lived next to the elevated Ravenswood train line in Chicago. Every ten minutes, a train rumbled past our apartment. At first the noise was intrusive. But after a while, we barely noticed it. What once seemed impossible to ignore simply became part of the background.

Societies can adapt in the same way.

So it is worth asking a difficult question: what have we become accustomed to in the past sixteen months? What behaviors, language, or actions that once shocked us now barely register?

And more importantly: what are we willing to do about it?

History offers many examples of societies confronting waves of extremism and division. Some responded by organizing, defending institutions, and fighting to secure civic trust. Others slowly accommodated the new reality until it reshaped the political landscape.

Many people still assume that things will eventually return to “normal.” But history suggests that normal rarely returns on its own. The world moves forward, often leaving behind those who fail to recognize how much has changed. Or, what they have lost.

Hate thrives when it divides people, overwhelms them, and convinces them that resistance is futile. Countering it requires more than outrage—it requires clarity, resilience, strong journalism, and a renewed commitment to rebuilding the civic spaces where truth, accountability, and shared purpose can survive.

The real challenge of our time may not be recognizing hate when we see it.

It may be deciding whether we will allow ourselves to grow accustomed to it.