Listening Past the Loud

"Loud Voices, Closed Minds" by Volunteer

I speak with a quiet voice—but my feelings about the world today are very loud. Sometimes I think they’ll crash through my head.

All my life, I’ve noticed that Loud gets heard—whether it’s true or not. And in the last decade, that Loud has become dangerous. There’s a philosophy that if something is said loudly and repeated often enough, it becomes rooted in the brain. People believe it. They act on it. And today, that philosophy is being practiced and proven frighteningly effective.

The quote, “If you repeat a lie often enough, people will believe it,” is often attributed to Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi Minister of Propaganda. And whether or not he said it, the sentiment has been repeated and implemented in countless places and times—including right now in our world, our country, and even our community.

Millions of people were displaced, imprisoned, tortured, and murdered because of that belief—not only in Germany but across the globe. And yet, instead of rejecting that way of thinking, we are replicating it.

To illustrate the breadth and danger of this philosophy, consider the following quotes. Ask yourself: were they spoken in pursuit of truth, power, or simply out of despair?

• “No matter how big the lie, repeat it often enough and the masses will regard it as the truth.” – John F. Kennedy

• “A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong gives it a superficial appearance of being right.” – Thomas Paine

• “A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.” – Mark Twain
  

I can’t help but apply these ideas locally. How does our community respond to the endless stream of repeated messages filled with hate, cruelty, and lies? How many of us wake each morning with a sense of dread?

Is the chaos we’re seeing in government caused by people who believe the lies, or by those who simply love chaos—who’ve made it a personality trait? Who believe that if something is said often enough, no matter how absurd, it becomes truth?

So how do we rise above this? How do we find and hold onto truth in our own neighborhoods? How do we resist misinformation and disinformation, and instead focus on building a safe, strong community?

And perhaps most importantly: How do we keep talking to one another—especially when we disagree? How do we let truth and goodness rise above the noise? How do we stay rooted in our values without becoming the very thing that threatens our democracy?

It is crucial that we work together for the safety of our small community. Everyone in our County and City should be warm when it’s cold, fed when they’re hungry, educated fairly, and treated by trained, accessible professionals when they are sick.

I believe in thoughtful regulation—understanding that one size doesn’t fit all—but that programs should be adaptable and protected from reckless elimination. When we focus on our local community, we see real impact. It’s easier to talk when you know the person you’re talking to—when you see them at the grocery store or sit beside them at a town event.

You and I may disagree—perhaps strongly—about what’s happening in the broader world. But surely, we can still work together to make our shared home safe, welcoming, and just. Isn’t that common ground enough?

I struggle to understand how so many people can cling to falsehoods—even when facts prove them wrong. I don’t understand how people support actions they know are wrong or cruel. Why has respectful discourse become so rare? Why is the sharing of ideas through honest conversation no longer the norm?

How did we let this happen? How did we let rhetoric turn into hate?

I should be able to live my values without judgment. And so should you. Are we really so far apart? Could honest conversation help us bridge that distance? Could tolerance, truth, and understanding win—if we gave them space?

If not in the nation, then maybe in our county. In our community.

And maybe, just maybe, if we start here—one by one, from the ground up—local action might ripple outward. Maybe by listening to each other, instead of the Loud, we’d realize we agree more than we think.

Is that world a fantasy?

Or is it a future worth talking about?