The Politics of Truth

From Plato to Post-Truth

This week, I received some unexpected but very exciting news: my book proposal was longlisted for the Ideas Prize.

The Ideas Prize, launched by Profile Books in partnership with the Aitken Alexander Agency, supports academics working on their first trade nonfiction book. It’s an opportunity for scholars to bring their ideas to a wider audience. Winners receive agency representation and a publishing contract with Profile Books, as well as a £25,000 advance. Proposals are judged based on a 3000-4000 word submission. The book project is called The Politics of Truth: From Plato to Post-Truth. (Yes, it has the same main title as this blog.)

I don’t consider myself especially gifted at writing for a general audience, and there are plenty of academics and Substack writers who seem just as, if not more, suited to this kind of work. But I know many of you are writers yourselves, or at least interested in the idea of writing trade nonfiction. So I wanted to share my proposal here. Partly, I hope it might offer some insight into what publishers and prizes like this are looking for. But in addition, I’d really welcome your feedback. The proposal is all I’ve written so far, so there’s still lots of room to shape where the book goes from here.

Here’s the proposal:

The Politics of Truth: From Plato to Post-Truth

It is often said that we are living through a crisis of truth. Public debates are filled with accusations of misinformation, fake news, and bad faith. Politicians deny facts. Experts are mistrusted. Citizens talk past one another. What was once assumed to be a shared reality now seems increasingly fractured and contested. The institutions we relied on to distinguish truth from falsehood are under pressure, and the pace and scale of modern communication make it harder to know what to believe—or who to trust.

But this is not a new story. Nor is it the first time people have feared that something essential to public life is coming undone. Concerns about truth in politics go back a long way, and they often surface at moments when existing forms of authority begin to feel fragile. Hannah Arendt put it plainly: “The story of the conflict between truth and politics is an old and complicated one.” It is also a story that gets retold in different ways at different times. It does not appear suddenly; it evolves alongside our institutions, our technologies, and our ways of speaking to one another.

This book is about the fraught relationship between truth and politics, and how it has been understood by some of the most influential thinkers in political thought. It focuses on ten figures—Plato, Machiavelli, Mill, Marx, Nietzsche, Dewey, Orwell, Arendt, Rawls, and Rorty—who each took up the question of what role truth should play in politics. Some treated truth as a foundation for good government. Others saw it as a distraction, or even a threat. Some believed politics could be improved through better knowledge. Others warned that claims to truth often mask power.

The goal of this book is not to offer a single perspective or solution. Nor is it to defend truth against its detractors. Instead, the book explores what happens when we try to bring truth and politics together. It asks what we gain by doing so, and what we risk losing.

Broadly speaking, three positions appear again and again. The first sees truth and democracy as fundamentally at odds. On this view, truth is something discovered by the few, while democracy gives equal weight to the opinions of all. To treat the majority as authoritative, regardless of whether they are right, looks like a denial of truth’s importance. The second view holds that democracy is especially capable of discovering truth. It fosters debate, allows mistakes to be corrected, and supports institutions that help us learn from experience. The third view insists that truth is largely beside the point. Democracy is not about knowing what is best but about making decisions that all can accept, even in the absence of agreement.

Each chapter explores how these tensions play out in one thinker’s work, often in ways that defy easy classification. Plato, who valued philosophical truth above all, also defended the need for political myth. Mill believed in the power of reasoned debate, but also worried about the tyranny of public opinion. Marx aimed to uncover deep truths about society, yet mistrusted those who claimed to possess them. Arendt wrote passionately about truth’s political fragility, while also insisting on the stubbornness of facts. Rorty saw truth as a red herring in politics and placed his hopes in solidarity instead.

This book does not claim that truth is always the answer. It argues that how we think about truth shapes how we understand politics. The question is not whether we need truth. It is whether we know what kind of truth we are asking for, what risks it brings, and what we are willing to sacrifice in its name.

Chapter 1: Plato – Truth Against Democracy

Plato is the first great political thinker to argue that politics should be governed by truth. Not by power, popularity, or compromise, but by knowledge of what is right. In The Republic, he imagined a city ruled by philosopher-kings, individuals trained to see beyond opinion and illusion, capable of grasping what justice truly is. The ideal state, on his view, is not one where everyone has a say, but one where the wise lead and the rest follow.

This is not a modest vision. It asks us to believe that there are correct answer to political questions and that some people, through education and discipline, can reliably find them. Plato’s ideal society is built around that premise. It is also built on a lie. The “noble lie,” as he calls it, is a myth designed to secure social order. Citizens are told that they are born with different kinds of souls that determine their place in the social hierarchy. The story is false, but it is politically useful. Most people, Plato believes, are not capable of understanding the truth. They need a fiction that they can live by.

This chapter examines the relationship between truth, authority, and myth in Plato’s political thought. It begins by analyzing his rejection of democracy and his elevation of episteme over doxa, arguing that Plato’s vision of politics is both epistocratic and anti-participatory. It then considers his justification for political deception and his view that rulers must live without property or family to protect their impartiality. The chapter ends with Aristotle’s reply, which reframes politics as a space for disagreement rather than truth-seeking. In doing so, it introduces a recurring theme of the book: the uneasy trade-off between rule by the wise and rule among equals.

Chapter 2: Machiavelli – Truth Without Illusions

Machiavelli tells us what Plato would not. He strips politics of its noble ambitions and looks instead at how power actually works. Where Plato imagines a city governed by knowledge and virtue, Machiavelli describes a world shaped by fear, luck, force, and cunning. His interest is not in what justice requires, but in what rulers must do to survive.

In The Prince, he advises leaders to be prepared to lie, cheat, and even kill if necessary. A successful ruler must learn how not to be good. It is better to appear honest than to be honest. Better to be feared than loved. Above all, better to win than to be right. The truth, if inconvenient, should be avoided.

But Machiavelli is not simply a cynic. He does not deny the value of truth; he questions whether it has any place in the rough terrain of political life. He offers a challenge to those who believe politics can be guided by abstract ideals. What matters, in his account, is not truth but effectiveness. Political judgment depends on timing, perception, and the ability to manage appearances.

This chapter examines Machiavelli’s rejection of both Platonic idealism and Christian moralism. It explores his understanding of political necessity, his belief in the value of deception, and his view that appearances often count for more than facts. We look at the contrast he draws between private virtue and public effectiveness, and his argument that rulers must often sacrifice one for the other. The chapter also brings in later thinkers—Rousseau, Butler, and others—who interpreted Machiavelli not as an amoral technician, but as a realist trying to defend republican liberty. The aim is to assess whether truth must always lose out to power, or whether Machiavelli saw something else in the nature of politics itself.

Chapter 3: Mill – Truth and Disagreement

J.S. Mill believed in truth. But unlike Plato, he did not think it belonged only to the few. Truth, for Mill, is something we approach collectively, imperfectly, and through the clash of opposing views. It is not discovered in isolation but tested in public. Politics, then, should be arranged not to protect truth from the masses, but to expose it to challenge and revision.

In On Liberty, Mill makes the case for free speech not only as a moral right, but as an epistemic necessity. We cannot know whether our beliefs are true unless they are confronted with alternatives. Even false opinions have value, because they compel us to examine what we think we know. Silencing an opinion, Mill writes, is a peculiar kind of theft: it robs the human race of the chance to correct its errors or confirm its insights.

But Mill’s optimism had limits. He worried about social conformity and the growing power of public opinion. The tyranny of the majority, in his view, was a real and growing threat, not just to individual freedom but to the pursuit of truth itself.

This chapter explores Mill’s epistemic case for liberty and his vision of democracy as a system that, at its best, encourages public reasoning. It will examine his arguments for free speech, education, and minority representation as conditions for improving public judgment. The chapter also considers Mill’s blind spots, particularly his assumptions about rationality and progress, and his faith in the capacities of many citizens. Alongside Mill, we bring in voices he could not have anticipated, including Mary Wollstonecraft and W. E. B. Du Bois, who expanded the democratic ideal while exposing how exclusion and inequality distort the conditions under which truth can emerge. Together, they raise the question: who gets to participate in the search for truth?

Chapter 4: Marx – Truth and Ideology

For Marx, truth is not found through debate or philosophical contemplation. It must be revealed by uncovering the structures of domination that shape how people live and think. What appears as truth in everyday life is often ideology, that is, an illusion produced by material conditions to sustain existing power. The task of political thought is not to interpret the world, but to change it. That requires seeing through the myths that keep people in their place.

In this view, truth is not neutral. It has a direction. It exposes exploitation, clarifies interests, and identifies the forces that drive social conflict. Marx believed that history was structured by class struggle, and that each ruling class produces a worldview that disguises its own position. The working class, by contrast, is uniquely placed to see through these distortions, not because its members are naturally more insightful, but because they have less to gain from illusion.

This chapter explores Marx’s account of ideology, false consciousness, and the role of critique. It begins with the claim that dominant ideas serve dominant interests, and examine Marx’s method of historical materialism as a way of disclosing what lies beneath appearances. It then considers how Marx understood emancipation as a process of truth-telling—not through persuasion, but through confrontation and revolution.

The chapter also brings in later thinkers who developed or challenged this view, including Simone de Beauvoir and Frantz Fanon. Both placed lived experience at the heart of political knowledge, showing how race, gender, and colonialism shape what can be seen and said. Together with Marx, they suggest that truth in politics is not a matter of neutrality, but of standpoint. We end by asking whether truth can play this kind of disruptive role without collapsing into dogmatism or vanguardism, and whether Marx’s legacy helps or hinders efforts to democratize political knowledge.

Chapter 5: Nietzsche – Unmasking Truth

Nietzsche begins with a question that most philosophers take for granted: why do we value truth in the first place? He suggests that the pursuit of truth is not a neutral or noble activity, but one shaped by psychological needs and social forces. What we call truth, he argues, often reflects underlying instincts rather than objective insight.

In Nietzsche’s view, truth is not discovered but constructed. It is a metaphor that has lost its awareness of being a metaphor, a human invention mistaken for fact. Philosophers who claim to serve the truth are often advancing their own moral preferences, cloaked in the language of reason. For Nietzsche, morality itself is suspect, especially when it takes the form of denying life’s complexity in the name of purity or certainty.

This chapter explores Nietzsche’s critique of truth and the implications it holds for politics. We begin with his method of genealogy, which traces the historical development of ideas in order to reveal their contingent origins and hidden motivations. We consider his view that truth can be used to suppress creativity and that appeals to objectivity may conceal resentment or weakness.

The chapter also looks at Nietzsche’s suspicion of democratic ideals, particularly the idea that truth emerges from reasoned agreement among equals. He suggests that the democratic impulse toward sameness and consensus can flatten human vitality. In place of truth, Nietzsche offers a vision of intellectual courage, where value is created rather than discovered, and where philosophy becomes a form of life. This chapter also examines how later thinkers such as Michel Foucault and Raymond Geuss take up Nietzsche’s challenge. Their work invites us to rethink whether truth should be treated as a political ideal at all, or whether it sometimes functions as a subtle mechanism of control.

Chapter 6: Dewey – Democracy as Inquiry

John Dewey believed that democracy needs truth and truth needs democracy. He rejected the idea that truth is something fixed or eternal, waiting to be discovered by experts or revealed by philosophical insight. Instead, he treated truth as something we arrive at together, through collective inquiry. For Dewey, the democratic process is not just a way of sharing power. It is also the best method we have for improving our understanding of the world.

In this account, democracy is an experiment. It allows people with different experiences and perspectives to test ideas, revise assumptions, and learn from mistakes. Truth, in this sense, is not a finished product but a process of investigation. Dewey draws on the American pragmatist tradition to argue that inquiry is inherently social. Isolated thinking is less reliable than the disciplined testing of beliefs in public.

This chapter explores Dewey’s vision of politics as a form of problem-solving. We begin with his critique of both authoritarianism and technocracy, which he saw as attempts to remove political questions from public engagement. Dewey argued that expertise is valuable, but only within institutions that allow for openness, revision, and participation.

We then examine Dewey’s view that democratic institutions should be structured to support habits of inquiry. This includes public education, free communication, and a vibrant civil society. Rather than treating disagreement as a problem, Dewey saw it as a condition for progress. The chapter concludes by considering Dewey’s influence on contemporary defenders of ‘epistemic democracy,’ as well as critics who question whether inquiry can thrive in deeply unequal societies. We ask whether democratic systems can still be trusted to refine beliefs and correct errors, or whether the conditions for that kind of learning are breaking down.

Chapter 7: Orwell – Truth and Propaganda

For George Orwell, the political value of truth becomes clearest when it is under attack. In both his journalism and fiction, Orwell returned to a single, urgent concern: the deliberate distortion of reality by those in power. His work captures what happens when lying is no longer a political tactic but a way of life, and when citizens are asked not just to believe falsehoods, but to forget they ever knew the difference.

In Nineteen Eighty-Four, Orwell imagined a regime in which language itself is reshaped to eliminate independent thought. Truth is no longer denied; it is undone. The past is rewritten, facts are manufactured, and contradictions are absorbed without resistance. What remains is not confusion, but obedience. Orwell understood that the real danger is not that people will believe lies, but that they will stop believing that truth matters.

This chapter examines Orwell’s account of political deception and the mechanisms that sustain it. We begin with his analysis of propaganda, euphemism, and the corruption of language. Orwell believed that vague or inflated language allows cruelty to appear reasonable and that clarity in speech is a form of resistance.

We then consider Orwell’s view of journalism and the role of independent institutions in defending factual accuracy. While he did not romanticize the press or presume that truth-telling comes easily, he insisted that freedom depends on a public sphere in which facts can be verified and lies exposed. The chapter also explores Orwell’s complex relationship with patriotism, class, and ideology. His political writing shows that truth is always contested, but that some lies are more dangerous than others. We conclude by revisiting Orwell’s central warning: that truth must be protected not only from authoritarian rulers, but from the quiet erosion of intellectual honesty in everyday political life.

Chapter 8: Arendt – Facts and Fragility

Hannah Arendt understood that truth and politics have always been uneasy companions. She did not believe that politics could be grounded in absolute truths, nor did she believe that truth could survive without some protection from politics. What concerned her most was not disagreement about values or principles, but the denial of factual reality. When facts are erased, manipulated, or treated as mere opinion, the possibility of shared political life begins to unravel.

In her essay “Truth and Politics,” Arendt distinguished between two kinds of truth: factual and rational. Rational truths include mathematical and philosophical principles, which tend to provoke resistance when they enter political debate. Factual truths are more fragile. They concern what actually happened, and they depend on records, witnesses, and institutions to survive. Arendt warned that factual truths are always vulnerable, because they have no natural defenders. No one is appointed to guard the facts.

This chapter examines Arendt’s analysis of the conditions that make truth possible in public life. We begin with her reflections on totalitarianism, propaganda, and the deliberate use of falsehood to undermine trust in reality. Arendt argued that when citizens lose confidence in factual truth, they do not become simply skeptical. Instead, they become disoriented and unable to distinguish between what is true and what is false. This disorientation creates fertile ground for manipulation, since people may come to accept whatever they are told, not because they believe it, but because they no longer expect political claims to be truthful in the first place

We then explore her account of the distinction between truth and opinion, and her view that political freedom depends on preserving space for both. Arendt did not aim to eliminate disagreement, but to preserve the ground on which disagreement can occur. The chapter concludes by considering Arendt’s influence on contemporary debates about post-truth politics. Her work helps us understand why truth matters not only as a moral ideal, but as a precondition for political judgment, collective memory, and the possibility of democratic action.

Chapter 9: Rawls – Politics Without Truth

John Rawls believed that a fair political system should not depend on citizens agreeing about what is true. In a modern pluralistic society, people hold conflicting views about morality, religion, and politics. These disagreements are not simply errors to be corrected, but expressions of reasonable diversity. For Rawls, political legitimacy cannot rest on controversial claims about the good or the true. It must be built on terms that all reasonable citizens could accept, despite their differences.

In Political Liberalism, Rawls argued that a shared conception of justice should be the focus of political agreement, not the truth of any particular worldview. He famously suggested that defenders of democracy should “do without the concept of truth.” This idea was widely misunderstood. Rawls did not deny that truth exists, but he thought it should play no foundational role in democratic justification. Political rules should be supported by public reasons, not by appeals to deeper truths that others may reject.

This chapter examines Rawls’s attempt to separate political justification from metaphysical claims. We begin by exploring his account of public reason, the idea that citizens should offer arguments that others could reasonably accept. We then consider his concept of the “burdens of judgment,” which explains why disagreement is both inevitable and reasonable.

We also assess the criticisms that followed. Some argue that Rawls’s attempt to bracket truth is incoherent, since public reasoning still relies on factual and moral claims. Others defend his view as a necessary safeguard against dogmatism and exclusion. The chapter concludes by asking whether political legitimacy really can stand apart from truth. In trying to accommodate pluralism, does Rawls give up too much? Or does he offer a way to preserve democratic respect without imposing contested views on others?

Chapter 10: Rorty – Truth and Post-Truth

Richard Rorty believed that political theory had become too preoccupied with truth. Philosophers, in his view, spent too much time searching for firm foundations when they should have been thinking about what politics actually requires. Rather than aiming at truth, politics should focus on solidarity, justification, and the creation of shared vocabularies. He did not deny that people have reasons for their beliefs. He simply questioned whether those reasons must correspond to some external, objective reality. What matters is whether those beliefs can be justified to others in the community.

In his view, truth is not a political goal but a distraction. Rorty insisted that democratic politics should be concerned with what works in practice, not with what matches a transcendent standard. He took inspiration from pragmatist thinkers like Dewey but went further in rejecting the idea that truth plays a central role in political justification. For Rorty, justification is always local, always contingent, and always embedded in the norms of a particular community.

This chapter explores Rorty’s attempt to move political theory away from epistemology. We begin with his critique of foundationalism and his proposal to replace truth with justification as the central concept in democratic discourse. We then examine how Rorty reinterprets liberalism as a cultural project rather than a metaphysical one, grounded in empathy, irony, and an open-ended conversation about who counts as “us.” We also consider the criticisms Rorty faced, particularly from those who worried that giving up on truth would lead to relativism or weaken resistance to injustice. Finally, we place Rorty in the context of contemporary post-truth anxieties. While some see his rejection of truth as prophetic, others worry it opens the door to cynicism and manipulation. The chapter asks whether Rorty’s vision offers a resource for democratic resilience or a warning about its limits.

Conclusion – The Trouble with Truth

This final chapter brings together the central themes of the book and reflects on how the relationship between truth and politics has evolved across the thinkers we have explored. We began with Plato, who placed truth above democracy. For him, political legitimacy depended on knowledge that was unchanging, timeless, and available only to those properly trained to understand it. The ideal state would be ruled by those who could grasp the truth and guide others toward it. By the end of the book, we arrive at a very different understanding. In the work of Arendt and Rorty, we see concerns that truth may no longer serve as a reliable foundation for political life. Rorty questioned whether truth belongs in politics at all.

The shift from Plato to Rorty is not simply a move from certainty to uncertainty. It reflects an ongoing tension between authority and disagreement, between the desire to get things right and the fact of persistent pluralism. Along the way, we have considered how other thinkers—Machiavelli, Mill, Marx, Nietzsche, Dewey, Orwell, and Rawls—confronted this tension in different historical and political settings.

The chapter closes by returning to contemporary concerns. Today’s anxieties about misinformation, polarization, and the collapse of factual consensus echo many of the themes explored throughout the book. The challenge is not just to defend truth, but to ask what kind of truth democratic life can bear, and what kind of politics might help protect it.