Standing on a Foundation You’re Trying to Tear Down

Have you noticed how often people say “That’s my truth”?

It sounds personal and respectful. But there’s a big irony hiding behind it.

Many who loudly claim “my truth” are at the same time criticizing or rejecting the very traditions and ideas that make it possible for them to say it safely and publicly.

What Makes “My Truth” Possible?

The freedom to declare your own personal truth — without being punished by the government, attacked by a mob, or shut down — didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It grew from a long civilizational “map” built over centuries:

• Ancient Greek love of reason and open debate
• Roman ideas of law and order
• Judeo-Christian beliefs in human dignity and conscience
• Enlightenment values like individual rights, free speech, and science

These traditions created universities, free platforms, legal protections, and societies that value open discussion. They treat truth as something we can discover and share — not just whatever each person feels.

In other words, the ability to push “my truth” depends on a foundation of reason, rights, and tolerance that came from Western civilization. Yet many of the loudest voices call that same foundation oppressive, colonial, patriarchal, or outdated.

It’s like sitting on a strong tree branch while sawing it off at the same time.

How Common Is This Way of Thinking?

Surveys show it’s very widespread, especially in the United States.

Recent research from the American Worldview Inventory 2025 (from Arizona Christian University) found that about two out of three American adults (around 66%) reject or seriously doubt the idea of absolute moral truth. This includes many people who call themselves Christians — for example, 69% of Catholics in the study.

Older polls from Barna have shown similar patterns for years: a large majority say moral truth depends on the person and the situation, not on any fixed standard.

At the same time, traditional pillars that once held society together — things like patriotism, religion, having children, and shared cultural values — have become less important to many Americans over the past 25–30 years.

Why Does This Matter?

When everything becomes “my truth,” shared reality starts to break down.

If all truths are equally valid personal feelings, then there’s no solid ground to debate ideas, correct mistakes, or build trust. Civilization grows through evidence, testing claims, and honest conversation — not by treating every feeling as untouchable.

The irony is clear: the people most free to express “my truth” (in open, tolerant societies) are often the least thankful for the foundation that gives them that freedom.

This isn’t about wishing for a perfect past. Every civilization has flaws, and healthy self-critique is actually one of the strengths of the Western tradition. The real issue is consistency. You can’t keep enjoying the fruits of a tree while actively trying to kill its roots.

Real progress and healthy debate need a shared map — a common understanding of truth, reason, and human dignity. When we deny that map while standing on it, we risk weakening the ground for everyone.

What do you think?

Have you seen this tension in conversations or culture around you? Drop your thoughts below.