Is Monet A Liar?
“‘What is truth?’ retorted Pilate.”
(John 18:38)
The Truth in Art and Representation: Why Truth Doesn’t Depend on Authority
Recently, someone said to me, “No one knows if anything you post is true.” This response is emblematic of a mindset deeply rooted in a misunderstanding of truth, authority, and representation. It reveals the human tendency to equate truth with validation by an external authority—be it a Supreme Court justice, a journalist, or some other figure of institutional power. The error is in believing that truth is only true if it is declared so by someone important, as though truth relies on authority to exist.
But truth is truth, regardless of who says it—or if anyone says it at all. Truth is not made true by the validation of a powerful institution or person; it simply is. This misunderstanding is why so many people spend their lives waiting for someone important to confirm what they already know in their hearts. They mistake external validation for the essence of truth itself, and in doing so, they abdicate their own responsibility to discern and live by what is true.
Art and the Representation of Truth
The arts offer a useful parallel here, as they often convey truths not through literal representation, but through symbolic and imaginative expression. Consider the works of Monet. His paintings of water lilies are not actual water lilies; they are paint on canvas. Yet we don’t dismiss them as lies. Why? Because they represent something true about beauty, perception, and the fleeting quality of life.
Would anyone stand in front of a Monet and say, “This isn’t true because there are no actual water lilies here”? Of course not. That would completely miss the point of the art. The truth of Monet’s work isn’t found in its literal accuracy but in what it reveals about how we see and experience the world.
Likewise, consider Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Orcs don’t exist. Does this make Tolkien a liar? No. The orcs, Sauron, and the One Ring are not factual entities but symbolic representations of corruption, evil, and the lust for power. The truth in Tolkien’s work is not in its literal realism but in its ability to illuminate deeper realities about human nature and the struggles of good versus evil.
Art, by its nature, does not demand literal accuracy to convey truth. Instead, it uses metaphor, symbolism, and imagination to represent truths that often transcend the limitations of direct, factual expression.
The Case of a Fake Court Case
This brings me to my use of a fabricated Supreme Court case. Some would immediately dismiss it as “false” because it is not a literal, factual record of a legal decision. But that critique misses the point entirely. Like a painting or a novel, the case is not meant to be a factual report—it is art, a representation of something true.
The logic of the case exposes systemic fraud, usury, and exploitation inherent in the modern financial system. It doesn’t matter whether a real Supreme Court ruling exists to declare these practices unjust. The truth of the argument stands on its own, independent of institutional validation. By presenting it as a Supreme Court case, I used a familiar structure—a symbol of authority—to illustrate truths that most people already know but evade: that fraud is wrong, that usury is destructive, and that systems built on exploitation are unjust.
Much like how Tolkien used orcs to represent the corruption of power, the “case” uses the format of legal authority to represent the truth about our economic and moral systems. It’s a mirror, not a document; a painting, not a photograph.
The Trap of Authority Dependency
The question, “Is it true?” reveals the trap people fall into when they conflate truth with validation. The implication is that if the case isn’t real, the argument it makes must be invalid. But this is like rejecting Monet’s water lilies because they’re just paint or dismissing Tolkien’s commentary on evil because orcs don’t exist. It entirely misses the point.
This mindset—the dependence on authority for truth—is why so many people live their lives waiting for someone important to validate their beliefs. They outsource their discernment, relying on institutions, experts, and authorities to tell them what is real, just, or moral. But the truth does not come from these authorities; it exists independently of them.
What happens when those authorities fail? What happens when the Supreme Court rules unjustly, or when the media misleads? Does truth cease to exist in those moments? No, it remains, waiting for those with the courage to see it and live by it, even without the stamp of approval from the powerful.
The Real Question
The truth in the case I presented, or in any argument, doesn’t hinge on whether it’s recognized by an official court. The real question is: does it reveal something true about the world? Does it expose injustice? Does it make people confront the lies they’ve accepted and the truths they’ve evaded?
To focus on whether the case is “real” in the institutional sense is to miss the larger point. It’s like standing before a Monet and saying, “This isn’t a real flower,” or dismissing Tolkien by saying, “Orcs aren’t real.” The purpose of art—and of this case—is to point to something deeper. It’s to help us see truths we might otherwise ignore, even if those truths make us uncomfortable.
Conclusion: Truth Beyond Authority
Truth doesn’t depend on the validation of a Supreme Court, a journalist, or any other authority. Truth simply is. The arts have always understood this, using representation to reveal deeper realities. My use of a fabricated court case is no different. It’s not about convincing people of its literal existence—it’s about challenging them to see the truth it represents.
If you’re asking whether the case is “real,” you’ve already missed the point. The better question is whether the truths it exposes are real. And if they are, what are you going to do about it? Will you wait for someone important to validate what you already know, or will you live by the truth that’s been before you all along?
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