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By:

Anil D. Salve

21 March 2026 at 8:11:09 pm

A Drought of Wisdom in an Ocean of Information

We live in an age where information is everywhere. With a single click, we can access news from across the world, thousands of opinions, countless videos and endless claims. Knowledge has never been so accessible. Yet, in this overwhelming flow of information, something increasingly scarce is discernment-the ability to distinguish what deserves our belief from what deserves our doubt. Information and knowledge are not the same. Reading, watching or hearing something does not automatically...

A Drought of Wisdom in an Ocean of Information

We live in an age where information is everywhere. With a single click, we can access news from across the world, thousands of opinions, countless videos and endless claims. Knowledge has never been so accessible. Yet, in this overwhelming flow of information, something increasingly scarce is discernment-the ability to distinguish what deserves our belief from what deserves our doubt. Information and knowledge are not the same. Reading, watching or hearing something does not automatically make it true. We need the ability to verify information, understand its context, recognise its purpose and only then form an opinion. In the digital age, this ability has become one of the most important forms of wisdom. Social media has transformed the way information travels. WhatsApp, Instagram, Facebook and other platforms have made communication faster, wider and more accessible. But the same speed that connects society can also overwhelm it. Information often reaches us before facts do. A headline is read before the full story. A short video is watched without knowing what happened before or after it. A photograph is circulated without its original context. A message arrives with the familiar words, “Forwarded as received,” and within minutes it may reach thousands of people. By the time the truth catches up, the rumour may already have done its work. The problem becomes even more serious when misinformation is deliberately created and circulated. Rumours may be planted not merely to mislead individuals but to divert public attention from an important issue, create suspicion, damage someone's reputation or push society towards a particular narrative. A distraction does not always need to be completely false. Sometimes a small piece of truth is mixed with exaggeration, selective facts or emotional language. The result can be more powerful than an outright lie because it appears believable. This is how narratives are manufactured. Social media platforms can become powerful tools in this process. A repeated claim begins to look familiar, and familiarity is often mistaken for truth. A provocative post attracts attention. Thousands of reactions create the impression that “everyone” believes it. One emotional video triggers another, comments intensify the mood, and before facts have an opportunity to speak, public sentiment may have already shifted. This is where mob psychology enters the picture. A society can move from calm to anger, suspicion to trust, or optimism to fear with surprising speed. People who would ordinarily think carefully may react differently when they see thousands of others expressing outrage, fear or hostility. The individual begins to follow the crowd, and the crowd begins to reinforce the individual. The danger is not limited to negative emotions. The same mechanism can also be used positively-to mobilise people for social causes, humanitarian assistance, disaster relief, public awareness and community action. Technology itself is neither wise nor foolish. Its impact depends on how information is created, amplified and consumed. The greatest danger, therefore, is not that we have too much information. It is that we may lose the habit of thinking while consuming it. We are increasingly becoming consumers of information rather than creators of thought. Everyone has access to information today, but access does not necessarily mean understanding. The boundaries between a rumour and a report, an opinion and a fact, popularity and truth are becoming increasingly blurred. A post does not become true because thousands of people have liked it. A video does not become evidence merely because it has gone viral. An opinion does not become a fact because it is expressed confidently. An idea does not become correct simply because it confirms what we already believe. This last point deserves particular attention. We often accept information not because it is accurate, but because it is comfortable. We are naturally attracted to information that confirms our existing beliefs and suspicious of information that challenges them. In the digital world, this tendency can be amplified by algorithms that repeatedly expose us to content similar to what we have already watched, liked or shared. Gradually, we may find ourselves living inside an information bubble where we hear many voices-but mostly voices that agree with us. That is not diversity of information. It is an illusion of certainty. Discernment does not mean doubting everything. It means thinking before believing. It means asking simple but powerful questions: Who is saying this? What is the evidence? What is the context? What may be missing? Who benefits if I believe it? And have I heard the other side? These questions may take only a few seconds, but they can prevent hours, days or even years of misunderstanding. This responsibility is particularly important for the younger generation. Children today are growing up in an environment of unprecedented information exposure. They can encounter more information in a few hours than earlier generations might have encountered in weeks. Therefore, education cannot merely teach students how to collect, remember and reproduce information. It must teach them how to question, verify, analyse and interpret it. A student who can write the correct answer in an examination may be academically successful. But a student who knows how to ask the right question is better prepared for life. The classroom of the future must therefore produce not merely informed students, but thinking citizens. They must learn that forwarding a message is also a form of responsibility. Sharing a post is not an innocent act when it can affect someone's reputation, create public fear or influence social behaviour. The challenge becomes even greater in the age of Artificial Intelligence. AI can generate information, images, audio and video with extraordinary speed and sophistication. The distinction between what is real and what merely appears real may become increasingly difficult. In such a world, human judgment becomes more valuable, not less. Technology can produce an answer in seconds. It cannot automatically tell us whether that answer deserves our trust. Some answers require experience. Some require context. Many require the ability to think independently. We have more information, more technology and more connectivity than any previous generation. Yet our real challenge is to preserve something technology cannot manufacture for us: the capacity to think for ourselves. The ocean of information will only become larger. The question will no longer be, “How much information do we have?” The more important questions will be: What should we accept? What should we question? What should we verify? And what should we reject? No technology can completely answer these questions for us. No number of likes can substitute for evidence. No viral trend can replace judgment. No majority can turn misinformation into truth. That responsibility belongs to human beings. Information can tell us what happened. Discernment helps us understand what it means, why it happened, what may be missing from the story and how we should respond. Perhaps, therefore, the greatest educational challenge of our time is not to teach people how to find more information. They already know how to do that. The greater challenge is to teach them how to pause-to pause before believing, to pause before reacting, to pause before forwarding and to pause before joining the crowd. Because sometimes the most intelligent response to information is not an immediate reaction, but a moment of reflection. The ocean is already around us. It is growing deeper every day. What we need now is not more information to swim through it-but the wisdom to know which direction to take. (The writer is the Principal of Podar International School, Ausa, Latur. Views personal.)

Mature Voters, Immature Parties

Nov 19, 2025
4 min read

India’s electorate is maturing faster than its political class, leaving parties trapped in outdated assumptions about caste, freebies and grievance.

Are political parties keeping pace with the citizens they seek to woo? As the dust settles after the National Democratic Alliance’s (NDA) emphatic win in Bihar, the familiar ritual of parties, pundits and psephologists rummaging through their usual toolkit of explanations has begun. The familiar debates and arguments of pro-incumbency or anti-incumbency, ‘labharthi’ (beneficiary) politics, caste arithmetic, the women’s vote and coalition mismanagement are being bandied about in television debates and opinion pages. While each provides some sliver of truth, none captures the whole picture. It seems India’s voters have outgrown the templates built for them.


Contradictory Outcomes

The post-election discourse tends to treat each contest as a rerun of the last, as though the electorate were a static entity nudged into different outcomes only by freebies, factional quarrels or atmospheric emotion. But such explanations, however convenient, fail to explain why many of the same variables like caste alignments, welfare schemes and incumbency dynamics produce contradictory outcomes over time. The same voters who dutifully elected Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira Gandhi repeatedly also tossed their party out in later decades. States long ruled by heavyweights such as Jyoti Basu, Naveen Patnaik or Prakash Singh Badal have still witnessed dramatic swings within years or months between parliamentary and assembly elections.


If the familiar factors remain constant but behaviour changes, then the cause must lie not in the inputs, but in the voters themselves.


The comforting notion that elections turn on instant gratifications also frays under scrutiny. India has always seen forms of state patronage that resemble today’s “freebies.” Rajiv Gandhi’s reforms, from telecom to computerisation, created millions of upwardly mobile beneficiaries. Yet the Congress failed to convert those ‘labharthis’ into lasting political loyalty. Two decades of globalisation coincided with the party’s sharp decline and the Bharatiya Janata Party’s ascent to a commanding national majority in 2014. Welfare, clearly, is no automatic pathway to power.


Astute Electorate

Today’s electorate seems more inclined to judge full-term performance than to be distracted by episodic outrage. The BJP’s unexpected losses in Ayodhya, barely four months after the consecration of the Ram temple, showed that religious spectacle is no substitute for governance. The opposition’s fixation on EVM manipulation and errors in electoral rolls likewise failed to dent public confidence. Voters appeared to take the matter in stride: lists will never be perfect; democracy cannot hinge on clerical accuracy. When polling day passed without incident and all agents of all parties certified the process, the conspiracy theories fell flat.


Similarly, issues such as unemployment, inflation and inequality - perennial sources of discontent - did not generate a uniform anti-incumbent wave. Voters weighed the credibility of those complaining against their record when in office. To blame the ruling party for every economic stress while offering little proof of one’s own competence is no longer sufficient. The electorate is developing an ear for selective indignation.


Behind this shift lies a transformation both simple and profound: information. With the internet in every pocket, even modest households now inhabit the same news universe as the urban elite. Awareness of national and global trends reshapes aspirations and raises expectations, but also roots them in realism. The voter asking “What’s in it for me?” is not merely seeking material favour. Youth and women, in particular, look for governments that deliver, not paternalistically dispense. The old ‘Maa-baap sarkar’ has lost its hold.


Caste matters, but its emotional grip is loosening as its functional utility declines. Voters now recognise that dynastic politics, still common across India, is the most exclusionary form of the game. Sharing a surname with a ruling family yields little beyond symbolism. Many have begun to distinguish between identity-based appeals and actual material outcomes. That shift has exposed hollow claims of representation that once reliably mobilised blocs.


A deeper insight is taking hold as well. Voters increasingly see political parties as entities with their own interests. They have grasped that parties professing to champion the poor have little incentive to eliminate poverty if doing so erodes their support base. Likewise, parties thought to represent the affluent have every reason to expand beyond their original constituencies. This convergence of self-interest—once obscured by ideology—now sits in plain sight.


It explains why voters in poorer constituencies no longer hesitate to support a party derided as a “suit-boot ki sarkar.” If the perceived incentive structures of political actors align with public aspirations of growth, stability and opportunity, then the old caricatures matter less.


All this suggests that Indian voters are making braver, clearer choices than the political class credits them with. They are breaking stereotypes, sifting through competing claims, and judging performance across entire terms rather than on the basis of last-minute theatrics. The electorate does not appear to be polarised; the parties are.


For analysts, the implications are uncomfortable. Relying on decades-old frameworks like caste first, freebies second, incumbency third is misreading the present. India’s political marketplace is becoming more rational even as its politics remains shrill. The gap between the two grows with every election.


Political parties that fail to recognise this shift risk irrelevance. Those without their ear to the ground, or their feet firmly planted on it, may find the ground slipping away well before they realise it. The maturing electorate has already moved on. The question is whether its leaders can keep up.


(The writer works in the Information Technology sector. Views personal.)

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