In the past, knowledge was scarce and guarded by a small literate elite. Ideas moved slowly but carried weight, shaping a shared moral framework. That world had limits, but it also offered clarity. Truth was something to preserve, not consume or manipulate
By Dr. Tim Orr
Douglas Murray’s reflection on the Patrick Bet-David Show contrasts two kinds of darkness. Previously, knowledge was scarce and guarded by a small literate elite. Ideas moved slowly but carried weight, shaping a shared moral framework. That world had limits, but it also offered clarity. Truth was something to preserve, not consume or manipulate. Knowledge wasn’t entertainment—it shaped how people lived and saw the world.
Today, we face the opposite problem: information is everywhere, but wisdom feels out of reach. Algorithms reward speed, outrage, and certainty, not depth or nuance. Murray warns that we may be entering a new Dark Age—one marked not by ignorance, but by confusion. We claim to “do the research,” but that often means finding what confirms our bias. Real understanding demands patience and humility, and those are getting harder to come by. Murray's question is crucial: In an age of infinite access, have we forgotten how to truly seek and recognize truth?
Fast forward to today, and the problem isn’t a lack of information—it’s too much of it. With the internet in our hands all day, we’re bombarded by news, podcasts, TikToks, articles, and opinions from everywhere. It feels like freedom, but as Douglas Murray pointed out on the Patrick Bet-David Show, this overload creates a new kind of darkness. The issue isn’t access; it’s overwhelming. A peer-reviewed study and a conspiracy theory can look equally credible in a scrolling feed. The louder and more confident the voice, the more likely it is to cut through, regardless of truth or depth.
That chaos has led to another issue: the casual claim, “I’ve done my research.” But that “research” often means watching a video that echoes what someone already believes. It’s not that people are lazy—we’ve been trained to skim, not study. Curiosity is often replaced with confirmation. Real understanding takes time, discomfort, and exposure to disagreeing views. Murray’s more profound concern is that we’re losing the ability to reflect and discern. We’re not uninformed—we’re misinformed, and often overconfident. The danger isn’t just ignorance—thinking we know enough when we don’t.
You hear it all the time now—on podcasts, in debates, or through comments: “I’ve done the research.” It sounds like a solid claim, suggesting careful study and thoughtful conclusions. But more often, it’s used to shut down conversation rather than invite it. In today’s climate, it’s hard to tell whether someone’s research involved hours of careful reading or a handful of social media posts that confirmed their opinion.
That uncertainty points to a deeper issue. We live in a world where information is easy to access but hard to evaluate. Real research requires patience, curiosity, and a willingness to engage with opposing views. But confirmation bias pushes us toward what feels familiar, while algorithms feed us more of the same. We may reinforce our assumptions even when we think we’re being objective. We must ask: Was this research thoughtful, balanced, and open to correction? Accurate understanding comes not from collecting facts, but from the humility to pursue truth, especially when it challenges us.
Confirmation bias is the human tendency to seek out, interpret, and remember information in a way that confirms one’s preexisting beliefs while ignoring or dismissing contradictory evidence. It’s a deeply ingrained mental shortcut that provides emotional comfort by protecting our worldview from challenge.
When “doing research,” confirmation bias causes us to dig very shallowly—but selectively. Instead of delving deeply into diverse perspectives and difficult evidence, we scan for facts, quotes, or narratives that validate what we already think. This selective sampling creates a dangerous illusion of knowledge and understanding.
In other words, many people who claim “I have done the research” have, in truth, performed only surface-level confirmation hunting. They haven’t engaged with the topic's complexity or uncertainty. This shallow approach leads to overconfidence in opinions and an unwillingness to reconsider assumptions, contributing significantly to polarization and fractured discourse.
The flood of information we face today doesn’t just strain our minds—it quietly reshapes how we relate to one another. Surrounded by endless and often conflicting content, many retreat into ideological silos where their views are constantly reinforced. These echo chambers may feel safe, but they come at a cost: they filter out disagreement, making real dialogue harder and deepening division. Over time, our ability to empathize with others or find common ground erodes, leaving us more isolated and polarized.
Emotionally, the effects are just as damaging. Constant exposure to competing narratives creates a kind of mental fatigue, anxiety, frustration, and a growing sense of detachment. People don’t tune out because they’re indifferent, but because they’re exhausted. As cynicism replaces curiosity, even our trust in institutions and neighbors crumbles. As Douglas Murray warns, this is a new kind of dark age—one marked not by ignorance but by confusion and burnout. To move forward, we’ll need more than facts—we’ll need humility, patience, and communities that value listening as much as speaking.
At the center of our cultural confusion is a simple but often ignored truth: information is not the same as wisdom. We can access endless facts—charts, timelines, opinions—within seconds. But knowing what isn’t the same as knowing why. Wisdom requires more than data; it demands insight, moral grounding, and the ability to navigate complexity with patience and perspective. It’s about connecting the dots, not just collecting them.
Yet our world rarely rewards that kind of thinking. Speed, certainty, and convenience dominate. We’re pushed to react quickly, post instantly, and move on. Social media favors the loudest, not the wisest. The silence and reflection wisdom needs—time to wrestle with tension or uncertainty—is harder to find. We may be more informed than ever, but we are more easily misled. Without slowing down to truly think, we risk becoming a society that knows more but understands far less.
Technology has undeniably transformed the way we learn and connect. In many ways, it has leveled the playing field, allowing people worldwide to access resources once reserved for a privileged few, regardless of location or status. A teenager in a rural town can watch lectures from top universities. An activist in a repressive regime can amplify their voice globally. A curious mind can dive into philosophy, theology, or science with the click of a button. There is much to celebrate in this democratization of knowledge.
But as with every powerful tool, there is a shadow side. The algorithms that help us find what we want are also designed to keep us scrolling—not by delivering truth, but by serving up what grabs our attention. And what grabs our attention is not always good, faithful, or wise. Sensationalism, outrage, and emotional manipulation spread quickly because they trigger instinctive reactions. Nuanced thought, careful argumentation, and open-ended exploration often get buried in the noise. Worse, misinformation can go viral long before fact-checkers can catch up, and the damage is done by then. In this sense, technology doesn’t just transmit knowledge—it shapes our habits of mind. It teaches us to expect instant clarity where there is none and fosters the illusion that truth is whatever trends.
To navigate this digital landscape faithfully, we need more than access—we need character. We need to cultivate the disciplines of discernment, reflection, and humility. Technology may give us tools but cannot give us the wisdom to use them well. That task still falls to us.
Douglas Murray’s insight calls for intentionality. As individuals, we need to cultivate intellectual humility—being honest about our limitations and open to revising our views. We must commit to deeper engagement, resisting the urge for quick fixes and easy affirmations.
Proper research requires curiosity, discipline, and patience. It involves critically engaging with sources, listening charitably to opposing views, and respecting expertise, not as unquestionable authority but as the product of hard work and reflection.
We must also be aware of confirmation bias and consciously challenge ourselves with unsettled perspectives. Doing so is uncomfortable but essential for genuine growth.
Beyond individual responsibility, recovering wisdom in an age of information overload must be a shared endeavor. Families, schools, churches, and online communities shape how we process knowledge and engage with opposing views. These environments form our values and habits, and if we want to raise a generation equipped for a complex world, we must teach not just what to think but how to think. That means encouraging critical thinking, intellectual humility, and a genuine pursuit of truth. Children—and adults—need to learn how to weigh evidence, ask honest questions, and listen carefully, especially to those they disagree with.
Just as crucial is restoring respect for expertise and promoting media literacy. In a culture where every opinion seems to carry equal weight, dismissing specialists as biased or irrelevant is easy. While healthy skepticism has its place, we must also value informed judgment and recognize the years of work behind credible knowledge. Teaching people to discern reliable sources and spot emotional manipulation isn’t just academic—it’s essential for navigating a digital world flooded with misinformation. Building a more thoughtful and united culture won't happen by accident. It requires intentional communities that prize curiosity over tribalism and truth over winning arguments.
We are at a crossroads between confusion and clarity, division and unity, superficial knowledge and profound wisdom. The choice is ours.
Ultimately, it’s not about how much information we collect but how thoughtfully and humbly we live with what we know. That journey from overload to insight is our time's great challenge—and opportunity.
Tim serves full-time with Crescent Project as the assistant director of the internship program and area coordinator, where he is also deeply involved in outreach across the UK. A scholar of Islam, Evangelical minister, conference speaker, and interfaith consultant, Tim brings over 30 years of experience in cross-cultural ministry. He holds six academic degrees, including a Doctor of Ministry from Liberty University and a Master’s in Islamic Studies from the Islamic College in London.
In addition to his ministry work, Tim is a research associate with the Congregations and Polarization Project at the Center for the Study of Religion and American Culture at Indiana University Indianapolis. His research interests include Islamic antisemitism, American Evangelicalism, and Islamic feminism. He has spoken at leading universities and mosques throughout the UK—including Oxford University, Imperial College London, and the University of Tehran—and has published widely in peer-reviewed Islamic academic journals. Tim is also the author of four books.