Relative truth

(Baonghean) - Back in school, the five things Uncle Ho taught me that I found hardest was "honesty." To be honest, children often have to lie, even about tiny things. Skipping breakfast to buy lollipops for a girlfriend, going to school at... midday to steal mangoes from the schoolyard, not going home early after school to wander around eating snacks... Honesty is truly difficult, very difficult, extremely difficult. It was like that when I was a child, and it's not much different when I grow up.

It wasn't until I went on a business trip to the remote mountainous areas that I had to reconsider my previous assessment. Because the people there are incredibly honest. They speak frankly and truthfully about what can and cannot be done. There's no beating around the bush, no justifications, and no "we'll just say this among ourselves, don't report it to your superiors." Their honesty is two-way. That is, if they speak truthfully to me, then I must also speak truthfully to them. For example, if I tell them that planting this animal or this plant is beneficial, I have to show them the benefits so they believe it's true. Some people might consider this naive simplicity. I, however, find it endearing honesty. Sometimes I'm a bit rigid, for example, once a local ethnic minority official absolutely refused to work with me because I hadn't been issued a journalist's card. The leaders had to personally escort me to the location, explaining everything they could, but the response was always: "Journalists must have press credentials. I must protect information from the state and the government." It was also a bittersweet experience during my work that my colleagues often tease me about: "You're not a real journalist until the people have welcomed you!"

Speaking of facts, recently there has been a public outcry over a television program reporting that a rising football player allegedly falsified his age. Surprisingly, in the past, whenever the media exposed a scandal, the public responded enthusiastically because they wanted to hear and know the truth. This time, however, the majority disagreed with the program, severely criticizing the television station and unanimously defending the player. Why is that? Firstly, a difference of a few years in age isn't really that serious. Even if the player is a little older, what's the problem? The truth is, he still plays well, has good morals and character, so there's no reason to criticize him just because he... was born prematurely. Secondly, it's better if he caused some kind of scandal so that the media at least has an excuse to "add fuel to the fire" (a familiar tactic to attract public attention). Instead of "shooting at a calm lake," this naturally becomes a pointless and inhumane act, as it leads to no worthwhile goal.

So, in short, how far should we push the boundaries of truth? I think what we need to know, should know, and must know is only a relative truth. That means a truth that offers some practical value. No matter how much you explain to the people in the mountainous regions, it's not as illustrative as a measure of rice or grain. No matter how much commentary, criticism, or praise you offer, it's not as effective as a single victory. We must accept that achieving absolute perfection in theory and idealism is very difficult, even impossible. That's a very... honest admission!

Hai Trieu