We are not living in a crisis of information. We are living in a crisis of perception. We are drowning in data: livestreamed videos, expert commentary and endless analysis. Yet our shared reality keeps fracturing. We don’t disagree because information is missing. We disagree because perception is being hijacked.
Most people imagine that propaganda spreads lies. It doesn’t. Propaganda works by triggering the nervous system. When fear activates, the brain shifts into survival mode; nuance disappears and perception collapses into certainty. The body prepares to defend, not to think. Trauma researcher Stephen Porges notes that under perceived threat, the nervous system redirects energy away from reasoning and toward protection. In that state, the body is not looking for truth. It is looking for safety. And if a belief makes us feel safe, even for a moment, we defend it instinctively.
We do not cling to beliefs because they are rational. We cling to them because they regulate our anxiety. Propaganda whispers a single emotional message: “You’re in danger.” Once fear is activated, certainty becomes soothing. The factual accuracy of the belief becomes less important than the relief it provides.
Psychologist William Swann, who studies the concept of “identity fusion,” found that when someone fuses their individual identity with a group, the group becomes the self. Contradictory evidence then doesn’t feel incorrect — it feels dangerous. When you challenge the belief, the body experiences it as a threat to identity. This is why fact-checking so often fails. You are not arguing with someone’s opinion; you are arguing with their sense of safety.
When fear activates, the brain shifts into survival mode; nuance disappears and perception collapses into certainty
Consider a man in a declining small town who hears that refugees or migrants are arriving. The factory closed years ago. Local institutions vanished. The culture he grew up in feels like it is slipping away. He feels invisible. Then a political message reaches him, not with statistics but with emotional precision: “They are replacing you.” The message works not because it is true, but because it explains his pain. He is no longer just struggling; he is being replaced. Suddenly, the threat feels personal. In that moment, he is not defending an immigration policy. He is defending his place in the world.
Fear combined with identity fusion creates the ideal conditions for propaganda. Emotional wounds make the nervous system more responsive to simple stories because the body prefers certainty to complexity. Propaganda doesn’t persuade logic; it stabilises anxiety. Trauma is not irrational — trauma is protective. It forms when past experiences teach the nervous system that the world is unsafe. When similar feelings arise later, the body reacts as though danger has returned. Propaganda does not need to convince the rational mind. It only needs to reassure the threatened psyche: “You’re right to feel afraid. The threat is outside you.”
People cling to false narratives not because they are ignorant, but because something inside them feels vulnerable. Belonging can feel like safety. And when belonging becomes more important than truth, truth becomes the threat.
We see this dynamic across political movements worldwide. Some nationalist movements equate dissent with disloyalty. The MAGA movement in the United States functions not as a policy platform but as an identity. Hardline Zionist positions fuse survival with ideological purity. In parts of Europe and the United Kingdom, anti-immigrant sentiment is framed not as debate, but as existential protection. In all these cases, the content of the belief matters less than what the belief protects.
Our problem is not misinformation. Our problem is dysregulated nervous systems. A person who feels safe can tolerate complexity. A person who feels threatened collapses into certainty. Propaganda works because it gives people a story to hold onto when reality feels overwhelming. If we fail to address the emotional and relational pain underneath political polarisation, attempts to “correct” people will continue to fail.
Most interventions attempt to counter propaganda with more information: fact-checking, data, better arguments. But when someone is in survival mode, they cannot process logic. The cognitive part of the brain goes offline when the body feels unsafe. Arguments don’t change minds. Feeling seen does. When fear is present, the nervous system isn’t listening for facts. It is listening for connection.
When someone expresses a rigid belief, instead of pushing back with information, try responding to the feeling underneath it: “It makes sense that uncertainty feels threatening.” “It sounds like you’re worried about losing something important.” “It’s scary to feel like your place in the world is disappearing.” Validation calms the body, and a calm body can think again. People don’t let go of lies because we expose the lie. They let go because they no longer need the lie for safety.
The backlash against migrants and refugees across many countries is often framed as evidence of prejudice or cruelty. More often, it reflects unaddressed emotional wounds: economic abandonment, loss of dignity and loss of community. People don’t fear migrants because they are ignorant. They fear them because they already feel replaced. People don’t cling to falsehoods because they’re stubborn. They cling because they’re scared.
The essential work ahead is not cognitive. It is relational. If we want to reduce polarisation, we must build places where people feel they matter. A nervous system that feels safe does not need an enemy. A person who feels they belong does not need a rigid identity to survive. A society that tends to emotional wounds is harder to manipulate. Freedom is not choosing the right story. Freedom is not needing a story to feel safe.