A couple of days ago, an investigation by the Observer suggested that the best-selling book The Salt Path might not quite be the ‘true’ and ‘unflinchingly honest’ story it claimed to be. I won’t get into the details of the allegations – especially as lots of other articles are doing that – but there was something I found particularly striking about that Observer piece. Namely, just how much time it took to pre-empt those who might say the ‘true’ truth doesn’t really matter:
“No one has argued that Raynor Winn and Moth didn’t go on a physical and spiritual journey. There’s truth in The Salt Path. But there’s truth outside it as well, as our reporting has found. How much does it matter if the interior and exterior don’t line up?
For many fans, The Salt Path’s depiction of a generous England, whose coastline is filled with beauty and people who open their hearts to a couple in need, will continue to resonate even after the revelations in this article.
For these fans, the meaning of Winn’s story will lie less in the details than in its message. And, they might say, fact and fable are often jumbled up to some degree in everyone’s life.”
Even if something is not a genuine story, some might argue, it can still generate a genuine feeling. This suggestion reminded me of
’s recent piece on apparently AI-generated content on Substack, and the indifference to whether it was a real human experience on the page:“It seems to me that a rubicon has been crossed. AI is genuinely touching human hearts, and it’s making money, and at least some readers don’t seem to care. More scary: this is only the beginning.”
Sticking to the truth is, from a purely technical point of view, much harder than straying from it. While writing my non-fiction books, I’ve come across a huge number of apocryphal stories and misattributed quotes. Often they are exactly what I need to round off a section I’m working on. But I’ve discarded them, because I don’t want to knowingly mislead readers. Instead, I’ve either searched hard for a just-as-good replacement, accepted an almost-as-good-but-true substitute, or in some cases scrapped the section entirely.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so concerned? If fictitious content can make non-fiction more interesting, more readable, and more successful, then are many writers optimising for the wrong thing by pursuing what is true? Perhaps all that matters is the vibes about a topic?
Regardless of the outcome of the specific Observer claims, this is what some other writers have historically optimised for. Over the years, there have been many incidents of widely reported plagiarism or fictitious quotes, followed by a brief author hiatus then another book deal. Getting the right feeling on the page can seem more important than getting things right.
This outlook is common in populist politics. When Nigel Farage was recently challenged on his proposal for billions of pounds in unfunded tax cuts, his response suggested that he viewed adding up as unimportant, and others should too:
“You can argue about numbers adding up, you can probably argue that at no point in the history of any form of government has anybody ever thought the numbers added up.”
If we want a non-bankrupt country, of course, we should argue about whether the numbers add up. And we should distinguish between the importance and magnitude of any errors that people in power make. I’ve previously written about the down-weighting of truth in debate. Yes, everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but there is a difference between being occasionally wrong in a minor way and regularly wrong in a major way:
“Rather than encourage proper evaluation of relative competence and skill, it instead flattens the playing field to the point of making evidence irrelevant. Everyone gets it wrong sometimes, runs the argument, so everyone is the same, so there’s no point trying to weigh up past behaviour or actions.”
In software development, there’s a term for hacks that work in the short term but incur a cost to fix further down the line. We call it technical debt. Get a quick benefit now, pay the price later.
We can incur a similar ‘truth debt’ in the stories we tell ourselves and others. In the short term, shaky claims might produce a desirable result. A publishing deal, perhaps, or a political victory. But in the longer term, there will be a price, whether in the undermining of trust, the erosion of knowledge – or the declining quality of decisions that rely on these things to function.
Cover image: Towfiqu barbhuiya
John Rawls wrote that truth is the first virtue of any system of thought. If you have no truth (in an objective and verifiable sense) your system of thought is fundamentally flawed. If that system of thought is responsible for all of your social institutions eg government, education, courts, economic activity then all of these are themselves contaminated and should be rejected. I fear with the likes of Trump, Farage and those others who are prepared to bend the rules of truth and with a disparate media unwilling or unable to challenge those who treat truth as a malleable commodity we are undermining something foundational in the way we structure our societies. In Russia truth is what the state says it is and any deviation is sanctioned by force. In the USA there simply is no agreed or workable concept of truth any more and so state enforcement is not necessary. No viewpoint can gain enough traction to influence affairs even if objectively true. The effects are the same total breakdown of societal institutions to the detriment of its people and those with whom that country interacts.
Adam, I am very glad that you write this topic and giving us an important topic to contemplate.
You were asking "If fictitious content can make non-fiction more interesting, more readable, and more successful, then are many writers optimising for the wrong thing by pursuing what is true? " I can only say that I appreciate very much that you didnot follow this in your book. What I have read so far from your book is that the not so easy to understand topic you wrote read to me like in a Michael Connelly novel. It is engaging, interesting and it is easy enough for people like me to understand without sacrificing the truth as you want us to understand.
You wrote that "Yes, everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but there is a difference between being occasionally wrong in a minor way and regularly wrong in a major way". it definitely is especially if one deliberately wrong in any way. I think as a scientist this is the largest responsibility we have to society.
You also wrote that "We call it technical debt (this is a good word to remember). Get a quick benefit now, pay the price later". To me this is mortgaging the future generation for this generation selfish benefit or for their thirst of power.
Thank you Adam; I appreciate very much that a mathematician is also concern in this situation and have the willingness to explore it!