During my junior year of high school, one of my first English assignments was to write a paper about Truth. Capital-T, philosophy-of-the-universe Truth. What was it? How do we know? Is there only one truth?

I wrestled more with that paper than any other I can remember writing. I was a young Christian, and I believed in knowable Truth. I had been raised with this belief, drilled deep into me through sermons and memory verses and commandments. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord. Thou shalt not lie. Fasten on the belt of truth and the breastplate of righteousness. Love not in word or talk but in deed and truth. The truth will set you free.

And yet, I struggled with the paper. Because, at sixteen, the world was beginning to look a little more complicated to me. The moral complexities of life were starting to reveal themselves, shaking my certainties ever so slightly. I remember sitting in the writing lab, thinking: in this world, there is always only one way that things unfold. Those are the facts. But what did it mean if two people came away from an event believing something different? Did one of them believe the truth and the other believe lies? Was the truth generally somewhere in the middle? Was “truth” different from “facts”? Was it always a knowable thing?

I don’t have the paper to reference, but I remember that I wasn’t proud of whatever I’d come up with. I got a B, the lowest grade I remember ever receiving on an English assignment. I’ve thought of that paper - and the truth I couldn’t figure out - something close to endlessly this week, as I’ve had truly shocking conversations with people convinced that the United States election is being “stolen” as a result of “widespread election fraud.”

When I’ve pushed back: provided sources to fact-checks, explained how things that look weird are actually very normal, offered details and numbers showing that this was a free, fair, and legitimate election, I have been told: “Well, that’s your opinion. We can agree to disagree.”

No, I cannot agree to disagree on facts. I refuse.

Generally speaking, I am willing to agree to disagree on the role of government, on the best policy solutions to our problems, on who will best lead our government. These are things that lie within opinion and world view. But the idea that on most things there is a truth we can know is not a partisan one. At least, it shouldn’t be; and if it used to be, it was a generally Conservative one. Relativism and “personal” truths used to be considered one of the many “slippery slopes”. Only in the last few years has the political right given up legitimate attempts at truth, trading it instead for alternative facts. (Perhaps here it is worth nothing that, biblically, the dismissive “What is truth?” comes from Pilate as he washes his hands of Jesus in John 18:37-38.)

Not all conservatives have chosen to ignore truth, of course. Alan Noble, writer and professor at Oklahoma Baptist University, recently wrote a piece entitled “Christian Witness Demands that We Defend Truth”:

My concern here is not primarily that a social conservatism that embraces deception will make us appear hypocritical or will kill public support for conservative values. Anecdotally, however, I have indeed witnessed younger evangelicals become increasingly drawn to the political and theological left because they feel betrayed by evangelical support for Trump. We taught our children that integrity matters, and they remember.

Still, what concerns me more is that once we no longer care about the truth, our own deliberations will become corrupt. The positions we take and the policies we advocate—in the name of life or morality or justice—will not be restrained by truth. It will no longer matter how we bring about our agenda. All that will matter is that we win. We may lie, manipulate, cultivate hatred and division, and dehumanize our enemies, so long as we achieve our goals. If we cannot conserve verity, then we have nothing left to conserve.

I’m not particularly conservative anymore (my idea about the role of government and the best policies have changed; again, these are opinions). However, I am still a Christian, and I believe I have much common ground with true conservatives. Tim Keller’s 2018 New York Times opinion piece about how Christians do not fit into the two-party system summarizes a lot of my thoughts.

I still believe in Truth. Not in service of my preferences, but in service of common ground, which I continue to believe there is a lot of in our country. It’s just been abandoned.

Yesterday, frustrated and emotional, I began talking to my husband about the conversations I was having, reading off my texts and Instagram messages. In each conversation, I’d been emphasizing truth as a principle, as a knowable, graspable thing. He asked why I didn’t spend more time debunking specific lies. The answer is twofold, I guess. First, I believe that principles matter. I believe in rules that govern us (Noble, above, does as well. Again, this is not partisan). Though it can be difficult, it’s how I live my life, and it’s fundamental to Christianity. Demands for love, truth, justice, and mercy flow through the Bible, repeated over and over.

Second, these claims are all Google-able. It’s the responsibility of those sharing on social media to check that they aren’t sharing lies. If we share something that gets flagged as a lie or misleading, we should feel embarrassed by that. We had two other good options: check the veracity of the claim or simply not share. But over and over again, I see our social media political discourse reduced to snarky, partisan memes that lack detail and insult our neighbors. On both the right and the left, people have walled themselves into echo chambers of nastiness and half-truths. Sure, it feels good to give into the meanest parts of our frustrations. It’s still unhealthy. It’s still wrong. It’s still lies. We can do better.

I digress. This post is a response in particular to rumors of election stealing, which have spread like wildfire this week. Though I’m a person who has always liked and followed politics, I learned a lot about our elections this week. I find myself impressed by political machinations in a way I’m generally not. Though the voting part remains improvable, the counting part is worthy of our respect. I think it would be a mistake for me to not include some information to debunk the myths:

• Here is a casual Twitter master-thread of debunked myths, created and being updated by a journalist whose newsletter is dedicated to getting people out of their partisan bubbles. He’s offering a $1,000 reward if someone can offer a conspiracy he can’t solve. There are a lot of specific theories and instances in here. I recommend a scroll even if you aren’t suspicious. It’s just interesting and informative.

• Here is a piece by lawyer David French with some fact checks that address the most common conspiracy theories (ballot dumps, observing the count, etc). French is a famous conservative voice. He’s smart and sensible and worth listening to even if you aren’t conservative. He also wrote a piece this summer about Christians and conspiracy theories that is, frankly, one thousand times better than this one.

• Here is a piece by the AP that directly fact-checks the President’s statements. Please note that the AP is at the pinnacle of the media bias chart as neutral with original fact reporting. It shares that (unofficial) position with Reuters.

• Here is the Logically fact-check library. They’re doing speeches and conspiracy theories. Each theory gets its own page, and they’re quite brief.