When Truth is Too Painful | Why Some Resist Seeing the Obvious

[Anderson]

My father believed in communism and socialism with a human face. For ten years, I tried to prove to him that communism was impossible to achieve, and that socialism with a human face was nothing more than a mythical creature, incapable of existing. But my father never gave up. He fought until his last breath. Seriously. He passed away without ever admitting what, to me, was absolutely obvious.

He left me with a question that haunted me for many years. My father was a smart man. He was a talented journalist. So why couldn’t he recognize and accept the truth? You know, I’ve realized that when we argue with someone, trying to prove our point, we rarely consider what accepting our truth would mean for that person.

We say, "You don’t see the obvious," to our opponent. But here’s the question: Who does that make them if they can’t see the obvious? We say, "You support bloodshed and a totalitarian regime." Who does that make them if they’re on the side of bloodshed? It was so easy for me to accept the truth... But for my father, accepting it would have meant acknowledging so much more—things that had never even occurred to me.

It would have meant admitting that he should have left when everyone else was leaving, admitting that he was wrong to believe when many didn’t, admitting that in dozens of arguments over countless issues, he had been completely wrong, despite believing he was absolutely right. For him to accept what was so obvious to me, my father would have had to accept and admit that much of his life had been a mistake.

There’s a remarkable fact: many citizens of countries that were part of Hitler's coalition never fully admitted the existence of concentration camps until the end of their lives. Because such an admission would have made them responsible for what happened in those camps. It used to be difficult for me to understand this. Today, it's much easier.

When we trust our country, we invest our very lives in it. Trusting a business means investing money, but trusting your country means investing your life. I don’t know if it's possible to betray your homeland. But I know for sure that your homeland can betray you. It’s terrifying if a friend betrays you. It’s terrifying if a loved one or a business partner betrays you. But nothing is more terrifying than being betrayed by your country.

 

How do you talk to someone who can't see the obvious?

People, when faced with uncomfortable truths, may choose to ignore or deny them, not out of ignorance, but because acknowledging those truths would require them to confront profound implications about their lives, decisions, and identities. This is particularly true when those beliefs have been a cornerstone of their existence.

When someone clings to a belief that seems obviously flawed, they may be protecting themselves from the pain of admitting past mistakes or the fear of losing their sense of self. In this light, talking to someone who "can't see the obvious" isn’t just about presenting facts or logical arguments. It’s about understanding the deep emotional and psychological stakes involved for that person.

The answer to the question, then, might lie in empathy and patience. Instead of trying to force someone to see what you see, it might be more effective to approach the conversation with an understanding of what accepting the truth would mean for them. Acknowledging their fears, their identity, and the potential loss they face can create a space where they feel safe to question their beliefs—when they're ready. 

It's not an easy path, and it might not lead to immediate change, but it's a more compassionate approach that respects the complexity of human psychology.