rustynomad23 said:Of course, we aren't talking about such erratic shifts. However, if your lens is completely fixed, no amount of information can alter it. Yet, since information is what shapes that lens, when does that evolution stop?
The filter is the prism; once the information passes through, it becomes the worldview.
That is precisely why this interests me. Depending on their prism, people selectively pick only the facts that support their existing ideas about the world.
The ultimate goal should be the possibility of achieving maximum objectivity.
No, you won't. That is the nature of a prism; it is multi-dimensional. New information adds a dimension rather than erasing the previous state.🙂
It seems we are in agreement.🙂
Naturally, there is always another way.
The concept is to move beyond the framework of good versus evil.
I appreciate the use of the term "sieve."🙂
A similar idea suggests that adding key information would simply create another hole in the mesh.
At what stage did your sieve form? During which era of your life? What exerted the most influence upon it? Family? Education? Society?
Is there a single event or piece of information that could drastically alter it?
When does bone remodeling actually stop? Never. Your bones are constantly growing and repairing themselves throughout your entire life, regardless of whether you've dealt with a fracture or not. Every ten years or so, your skeleton essentially undergoes a complete turnover. It’s a similar concept to how we think about certain types of industrial filtration systems—constant renewal to keep things functioning.
It starts out as this massive, overwhelming presence during childhood—just a huge, heavy concept that takes up all the space in your head. But as you grow up, it’s like this increasingly fine mesh begins to settle over the core of it. A filter starts forming, layer by layer, getting tighter and more refined until the whole thing is being processed through this tiny, intricate little screen.
You probably hit that point of total completion somewhere around the time you started a family, but that doesn't mean you're stuck there forever. Life isn't exactly a finished product just because you've checked all the boxes.
It’s worth considering a change here. For instance, there are other ways to weave the filter that might actually be more efficient.
And who exactly showed you that other way of looking at things? Some other person, obviously. It’s all about that moment of realization—that specific piece of information hitting you. But let's be real: the filter hasn't actually vanished. You've just added a new layer on top, and once you're comfortable there, you strip the old one away.
When you’re a teenager, everything feels like an open door. You’re walking around with this massive ego, convinced the world is basically your personal playground and that you’re some kind of unstoppable force. Back then, I used to think all I needed was a little bit of seed money or maybe a hand from someone established to finally launch my grand designs. It felt like success was just one lucky break away. But then reality hits. If you actually try to pull something off, you realize pretty quickly how wrong you were. And if you don't try? Well, you eventually grow out of it. You start to see that those "world-changing" ideas weren't actually grounded in anything real—they were just unreachable fantasies. Eventually, you just drop that whole perspective entirely. It’s less of a choice and more of a slow realization that the world doesn't owe you a thing.
You eventually start looking more like the system you were born into, and you begin to accept it. You make peace with the fact that real change is an uphill battle—if it happens at all. Eventually, your priorities shift entirely toward just getting through the day and surviving. You settle on the compromise that maybe making small, incremental tweaks to make life slightly more comfortable is enough. And for most people, that’s plenty.
This is exactly why I got sucked into all of this in the first place. It really just comes down to how people cherry-pick from a massive sea of information, grabbing only the bits and pieces that happen to fit their own preconceived notions of how the world works.
The whole idea is about trying to get as close to an objective view of the situation as humanly possible.
If you want to be truly objective, you have to stop playing gatekeeper with your sources. Don't just filter out information before you've even looked at it based on who sent it; that’s just bias in disguise. Instead, take everything in—raw and unfiltered—and then put it through the wringer. The real work starts when you begin interrogating those sources with direct, pointed questions. You use those answers to gauge whether the data actually holds water. Think of it like using a sieve: you aren't discarding things randomly; you’re using your own education and lived experience as the mesh to catch the junk and let the substance pass through. You can't accurately judge the quality of an argument unless you have enough specialized knowledge to know what a "good" answer actually looks like.
Let’s be honest: the very first filter people tend to run everything through is...
Who’s actually doing the talking? It all comes down to credibility.
And another thing:
It all comes down to the education you’ve banked and the actual life experience you bring to the table. That’s the lens through which we filter everything we hear.
If we don’t know who someone is, where they came from, or even what the hell we're actually talking about, I think we’re either hitting a mental reset button or stumbling into one of those rare, fleeting moments of genuine excitement—you know, that rush you get from a new idea, a sudden realization, or just a random urge to learn something new. It feels like the exact same neurological loop that drives a kid into a frenzy when they’re begging for a new iPhone or a mountain bike. Or, honestly, it's probably the same chemical spike a woman gets when she finds that perfect pair of shoes while shopping at Nordstrom. It's that sudden spark of "I need this" or "I want to know this," triggered by pure novelty.🤣 Maybe it’s a guy just browsing for a new ride at the dealership.😂)
Exactly, which is why it’s more of a prism—it's multi-dimensional. New information adds a layer rather than just erasing what was already there. 🙂
Maybe. I remember when I was a kid, I absolutely hated eating green beans, peas, kale, or leeks. Now? They’re my go-to. It’s because at some point, I started perceiving them as "home-cooked" and healthy compared to store-bought stuff, so they automatically tasted better. Toss in some homemade sausages and they become a favorite. Honestly, they're way better than any heavy Sunday roast or, God forbid, fast food. I barely touch junk anymore.
When do you think your filter was formed? At what age? What had the biggest impact—family, education, society?
Hmm, as for the version of the filter I carry today... I don't know, maybe somewhere around my junior year of college? Maybe.
But if we're talking about when I first started filtering info the way I described earlier—I can't quite pinpoint who was saying what, it's been too long—but I'd say it was around middle school. Somewhere during that transition into puberty, say between ages 12 and 15. Before that, everything was black and white for me. Heaven, hell, Santa Claus... whatever people told me existed, I believed.
Is there an event or a specific piece of information that would have drastically changed things?
It's hard to think of one single thing that would have flipped the switch...
I suppose I should start by listing examples of information I would most aggressively reject through my filter—people with zero credibility peddling garbage info.
- Fortune tellers, psychic medium types, and their ilk.
- Certain politicians.
- Pseudo-scientists and "alternative" gurus with no credentials who are essentially just looking for donations for their "knowledge."
- Journalists from certain media outlets.
I can't think of a single "average Joe" whose info I would reflexively reject right now. I might become skeptical during a conversation based on their arguments, but in the case of the groups mentioned above, I basically tune them out the second I see them.
Now that I've identified them, what would actually have to happen for me to start believing them?
- They would need to predict specific things with precision, repeatedly, without error, including names and descriptions of the people involved.
- They would need to shut up and actually answer questions as they are asked, instead of twisting them. I also judge non-verbal cues heavily. Plus, they’d have to back up radical stances with action—actual laws and decisions that move toward what they promised, not away from it.
- They would have to prove their claims scientifically through experimentation—repeating results accurately and logically—especially if those claims contradict established science.
- They would need to actually research their topics rather than just plagiarizing or translating content from other sources. They'd need to do boots-on-the-ground reporting for an extended period before publishing conclusions, and they’d need to be properly educated in the field they are discussing.
Maybe the common thread here is that I built my filter largely based on how others perceived the world. I agreed with those perceptions. I gathered that info from various places—mostly documentaries on TV or articles and forums online. Other people were really just a third tier, repeating or slightly tweaking information I had already absorbed from those primary sources regarding what was considered "good" or "true."
I can't pinpoint the exact moment everything clicked, though I can point to one specific book—*Conversations with God*. It fundamentally shifted how I viewed myself and everyone else. Over time, I’ve tempered those views, sliding back toward my old mindset, though not entirely. A bit of skepticism always lingers; I find it hard to believe that everyone could be radically honest and completely shameless at every single moment. For instance, the idea of being totally open about sex right in front of your kids without things getting awkward? In today's society, that's just not a viable concept. Maybe in some distant future it could work, but right now, it’s a bad idea.
That book was just one of several turning points for me. Most of my other realizations came from watching certain people on TV or deep-diving into documentaries online.
Oh, that reminds me—Michael Ruppert and that documentary *Collapse* from about six years ago. If I'm being honest, that was another major epiphany. Much like with the book, my initial reaction eventually mellowed out. He was forecasting global ruin and total economic meltdown because of our absolute addiction to oil. And sure, we're dependent on it—we even use petroleum derivatives to make things like toothpaste—but I’ve come to realize that while there would definitely be chaos and growing pains, society has enough resilience to survive without it. We don't necessarily have to end up in a *Mad Max* wasteland.
Since then, I’ve started building upon those early insights to figure out what actually works for me. My vision for the world has evolved away from those original sources, even if I still hold onto their core principles: the world needs to be sustainable, food should be locally sourced, people should focus on cooperation rather than cutthroat competition, and mass production should be kept simple and "uncomplicated."
Anything that flies in the face of those fundamental values, I either reject outright or dismiss as an inferior solution that might only serve as a temporary fix.
