The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth: Why the Story Matters More.

Having been a cop in a former life, I was schooled in the pursuit of the truth. There was a clean, uncompromising attraction to this quest, and I became skilled in building a prosecution case based on the ethical collection of facts.

The truth is spectacular since it efficiently removes the need to lie – an arduous task if you choose dishonesty; like a house of cards, it can crumble rapidly once subject to a little questioning. I will always remember one mug who maintained that he had been at home alone, watching Brookside (a soap opera set in Liverpool) when in fact, he was committing a burglary. After allowing him to wax lyrical, I suspended the interview and informed him that I would make a call to Channel 4 to verify the storyline he had so elegantly detailed. Suffice it to say, his chin dropped, and after a short conversation with his brief, he spilled the beans.

But is undiluted truth always the rightful panacea for all of life’s episodes? How often have you used these statements without the requisite sincerity:

• “I love you.”
• “I’m fine.”
• “I’ll call you.”
• “You look great!”
• “I’m happy for you.”
• “I was just kidding!”

The eureka moment arrived for me in two distinct phases. Firstly, while watching the quirky yet utterly brilliant Netflix series Bodkin – a dark comedy thriller that follows American true crime podcast host Gilbert Power and his team as they investigate mysterious disappearances in the Irish town of Bodkin, blending elements of mystery, satire, and drama, with a peculiar cast of characters hosted within a picturesque Irish setting.

In the concluding episode – without giving the game away – Gilbert highlights the importance of understanding the human element behind the story, and how the truth can be complex and multilayered. He underscores the notion that stories are not just about what happened, but about why it happened and how it affected the people involved.

Secondly, the influence of World Book Day, where my grandkids Arthur and Darcie were Willy Wonka and Cinderella, respectively.

Storytelling is deeply woven into the fabric of human existence. It is a primary means of preserving and transmitting rituals from one generation to another. Oral traditions have been the backbone of many beliefs for thousands of years. As noted by Jack Zipes in The Irresistible Fairy Tale, “Stories have been used for centuries to convey cultural values and social norms.”

Stories allow people to experience lives and perspectives different from their own, fostering empathy and understanding. Paul J. Zak’s research highlights how stories that engage our emotions can improve our ability to empathise with others.

The art of storytelling also plays a crucial role in the development of cognitive skills, particularly in children. According to a study by the aptly named Kidd and Castano, exposure to narrative fiction improves theory of mind, which is the ability to attribute mental states to oneself and others. Complementary research by Barbara Fredrickson’s “broaden-and-build theory of positive emotions” concludes that storytelling can help build social bonds and community resilience.

And I haven’t even begun to extol the virtues that stories have within the realms of entertainment, escapism, and education!

Whether through books, films, oral traditions, or digital media, storytelling continues to be a vital part of our collective existence. As American poet and political activist Muriel Rukeyser put it, “The universe is made of stories, not of atoms.”

Within the narrow band of the criminal justice system, there is perhaps a right to expect the unadulterated truth. But for the rest of the time, our personal stories can and should connect with emotion, which can be as vivid or as vague as we deem fit. As for my chosen story, it’s one of swashbuckling silliness with a side order of clandestineness, candles, and chaos: far more compelling than just the facts alone!

What’s your story?

© Ian Kirke 2025
@ iankirke.bsky.social
Title photograph by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash.