There’s just something perfect about this.
After 12 months of naked partisanship on Capitol Hill, on cable TV and in the blogosphere, the word of the year for 2006 is … “truthiness.”
The word — if one can call it that — best summed up 2006, according to an online survey by dictionary publisher Merriam-Webster.
“Truthiness” was credited to Comedy Central satirist Stephen Colbert, who defined it as “truth that comes from the gut, not books.”
“We’re at a point where what constitutes truth is a question on a lot of people’s minds, and truth has become up for grabs,” said Merriam-Webster president John Morse. “‘Truthiness’ is a playful way for us to think about a very important issue.”
Apparently, the online survey wasn’t particularly close. Other Top 10 finishers included “war,” “insurgent,” “sectarian” and “corruption.” — but “truthiness” won 5-to-1.
Colbert issued a statement to the AP, saying, “Though I’m no fan of reference books and their fact-based agendas, I am a fan of anyone who chooses to honor me.”
Colbert aside, the success of this word reminds me of a Frank Rich column from about a year ago on this very subject.
What matters most now is whether a story can be sold as truth, preferably on television. The mock Comedy Central pundit Stephen Colbert’s slinging of the word ”truthiness” caught on instantaneously last year precisely because we live in the age of truthiness.
At its silliest level, this is manifest in show-biz phenomena like Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey, juvenile pop stars who merchandised the joy of their new marriage as a lucrative MTV reality series before heading to divorce court to divvy up the booty. But if suckers want to buy fictional nonfiction like ”Newlyweds” or ”A Million Little Pieces” as if they were real, that’s just harmless diversion.
It’s when truthiness moves beyond the realm of entertainment that it’s a potential peril. As Seth Mnookin, a rehab alumnus, has written in Slate, the macho portrayal of drug abuse in ”Pieces” could deter readers battling actual addictions from seeking help. Ms. Winfrey’s blithe re-endorsement of the book is less laughable once you start to imagine some Holocaust denier using her imprimatur to discount Elie Wiesel’s incarceration at Auschwitz in her next book club selection, ”Night.”
This isn’t just a slippery slope. It’s a toboggan into chaos, or at least war. As everyone knows now — except for the 22 percent, according to a recent Harris poll, who still believe that Saddam helped plan 9/11 — it’s the truthiness of all those imminent mushroom clouds that sold the invasion of Iraq. What’s remarkable is how much fictionalization plays a role in almost every national debate. Even after a big humbug is exposed as blatantly as Professor Marvel in ”The Wizard of Oz” — FEMA’s heck of a job in New Orleans, for instance — we remain ready and eager to be duped by the next tall tale. It’s as if the country is living in a permanent state of suspension of disbelief.
Democrats who go berserk at their every political defeat still don’t understand this. They fault the public for not listening to their facts and arguments, as though facts and arguments would make a difference, even if the Democrats were coherent. It’s the power of the story that always counts first, and the selling of it that comes second. Accuracy is optional. The Frey-like genius of the right is its ability to dissemble with a straight face while simultaneously mustering the slick media machinery and expertise to push the goods. It not only has the White House propaganda operation at its disposal, but also an intricate network of P.R. outfits and fake-news outlets that are far more effective than their often hapless liberal counterparts.
I think this is still largely true, but it’s probably worth noting that in 2006, “truthiness” may be the word of the year, but when it came to the 2006 election, actual truth still won at the ballot box.
Fact-based agendas still have a place in our daily life, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.