If truth is to serve justice, then justice demands that we scrutinise claims from allies and opponents alike.
Truth is not a team sport, nor a PR exercise
One of the most dangerous habits emerging in modern political life is the assumption that misinformation only comes from the people we disagree with.
For many Australians, particularly those concerned with racism, inequality, and Indigenous justice, it has become easy to identify falsehoods on the political right.
The conspiracies, distortions, and culture-war myths are often obvious and deserve to be challenged.
But truth does not belong to any political faction. Misinformation can emerge from the left, the centre, activist circles, academic institutions, media organisations, governments, corporations, and community groups.
The mere fact that a claim aligns with our values does not make it true. Good intentions are not evidence. Noble causes are not exemptions from scrutiny.
This is particularly important for First Nations communities. Our political movements have long relied upon moral authority, lived experience, and evidence to expose injustice.
If we become unwilling to examine claims simply because they advance causes we support, we risk weakening the very foundations upon which our arguments stand.
The cost of claims without proof
In recent years, social media has accelerated the circulation of statistics, surveys, historical claims, and allegations that are repeated thousands of times before anyone asks where they originated.
A figure is cited. A graphic is shared. A dramatic claim appears in a headline.
Soon it is accepted as fact despite the absence of publicly available evidence.
Sometimes these claims concern crime, education, health outcomes, racism, environmental impacts, government decisions, or historical events.
They may sound plausible. They may even reflect genuine concerns. Yet plausibility is not proof.
A claim that cannot be independently verified remains a claim, regardless of how many times it is repeated. The consequences can be severe.
When exaggerated or unsubstantiated claims are eventually exposed, opponents seize upon them.
Far-right commentators, racist organisations, and bad-faith actors use those errors as ammunition to dismiss legitimate concerns entirely.
One false statistic can be weaponised against a hundred truthful ones.
One weak argument can become an excuse to ignore a mountain of evidence.
Communities already fighting for recognition and justice can ill afford such self-inflicted wounds.
'Triangulating' the truth
The answer is not cynicism. Nor is it the rejection of expertise. The answer is a disciplined commitment to evidence.
Before sharing information, we should ask a simple question: "how do we know this is true?"
A useful method is triangulation.
Whenever possible, claims should be tested against at least three independent sources.
First, seek the original source of the claim itself.
Second, find an independent expert or institution that has reviewed or verified it.
Third, look for separate reporting, data, or documentation that reaches the same conclusion through different means.
If all roads lead to the same destination, confidence grows. If they do not, caution is warranted.
For First Nations people, truth-telling has become a defining political principle. Yet truth-telling requires more than speaking. It requires listening, checking, verifying, and sometimes correcting ourselves.
If we expect governments, media organisations, corporations, and political parties to be accountable for the information they present, we must hold ourselves to the same standard.
The struggle for justice is difficult enough without carrying avoidable errors into battle. Truth is not weakened by scrutiny.
It is strengthened by it. In an age of algorithms, outrage, and instant commentary, our greatest act of resistance may simply be refusing to repeat what we cannot prove.
That discipline will not only protect the integrity of our movements; it will ensure that when we speak, our words carry the authority that comes from being right.
Jesse J. Fleay is a Boorloo-born Noongar writer and academic living in Naarm. He lectures in Politics and International Relations at Monash University. Views are his own.