By Lethbridge Herald on May 29, 2025.
Faith Wood
Troy Media
We didn’t lose trust in each other overnight. It happened slowly, over decades, as we shifted from a culture of responsibility to one of blame. Now, in a world drowning in outrage, mistrust has become the default setting.
Everywhere you look, on social media, in politics, in the news, the tone is combative, the facts are fuzzy and the noise is endless. People are tuning out not because they don’t care, but because they don’t know who or what to believe anymore.
And while it’s tempting to point fingers at media, institutions or political leaders, the truth is more uncomfortable: we helped build the distrust that now defines our society—an erosion of faith in our institutions, in each other and in the possibility of shared truth. It’s a culture of cynicism and blame we’ve normalized through constant outrage, tribal loyalty and a steady erosion of personal accountability.
We fuel it when we chase rights without duty, confuse outrage for truth and treat opinion as fact—as long as it fits our views. We didn’t just inherit this climate of mistrust; we shaped it.
In Canada, we’ve seen similar patterns: declining trust in Parliament, public scepticism around everything from COVID mandates to climate policy, and a growing divide between urban and rural voters. Though our tone is often more muted than our southern neighbours, the underlying erosion of trust is unmistakable here too.
These trends didn’t begin here, but they echoed quickly across the border. It began in the 1960s, when social activism in the U.S. challenged norms and the media promoted a new idea: that happiness was something owed to us, not something earned. Fulfilment became less about character or contribution and more about consumption or circumstance.
Roger Conner, former director of the American Alliance for Rights and Responsibilities, put it well: “People are fixated on their rights, but they have a shrivelled sense of responsibility.” That’s where the rot started, when we stopped linking freedom with duty.
In the 1970s, this mindset deepened. Legal reforms in the U.S. made it easier to sue over just about anything. Victimhood became a pathway to compensation. Personal misfortune could be traced to corporate warnings that weren’t clear enough, or even to one’s upbringing.
This set the stage for the 1980s and 1990s, when North Americans increasingly turned to social systems and medical explanations to make sense of life’s struggles. Diagnoses proliferated. Illnesses were often framed in ways that relieved individuals of moral or behavioural responsibility.
Psychologist Stanton Peele warned in The Diseasing of America that as society increasingly framed personal failings as diseases, we undermined both moral and legal accountability. Instead of encouraging people to take ownership of their actions, these medicalized narratives often excused behaviour and convinced individuals that their choices were beyond their control.
By the late 1990s, a generation conditioned to sidestep responsibility entered adulthood, and then the real world struck back. The 2000s brought widespread disillusionment with public figures and institutions.
Corporate fraud, political scandals and celebrity hypocrisy dominated headlines. Social media didn’t just amplify these failures, it turned them into spectacle. Public discourse morphed into performance, where outrage earned attention and complexity was treated like betrayal. Trust began to feel naïve.
By the time the COVID-19 pandemic struck in 2020, society’s faith in authority was already frayed. Lockdowns meant to last weeks dragged on for months and then years. Experts contradicted each other. Politicians pivoted. Messaging changed. In the void of clarity, confusion thrived—and so did conspiracy theories.
Though the lockdowns eventually lifted, their psychological and societal impact didn’t disappear, they simply evolved.
In 2025, the noise is louder than ever. Deepfakes blur truth. AI-generated content floods every platform. Institutions—government, media, education—are treated with suspicion, not deference.
And yet, amid all this, one thing has remained consistent: our discomfort with responsibility.
We demand justice without sacrifice and celebrate truth, so long as it confirms our bias. Without a willingness to own our actions, we create a vacuum where cynicism thrives and trust dies.
So what does personal responsibility actually look like in today’s world?
It doesn’t mean carrying the world’s burdens alone. It means showing up for your community, owning your mistakes, engaging in honest debate without demonizing others and resisting the urge to blame before understanding. These aren’t grand gestures: they’re everyday decisions that rebuild the social fabric one thread at a time.
Rebuilding trust won’t be easy. It will require honest leadership, grounded communities and media that prioritizes truth over tribalism. But most of all, it will require a renewed commitment from all of us to link our freedom with the obligations that give it purpose.
Because without trust, there’s no democracy. No community. No future.
But we can start small: by listening more, assuming less and choosing truth over tribalism, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Faith Wood is a professional speaker, author, and certified professional behaviour analyst. Before her career in speaking and writing, she served in law enforcement, which gave her a unique perspective on human behaviour and motivations. Faith is also known for her work as a novelist, with a focus on thrillers and suspense. Her background in law enforcement and understanding of human behaviour often play a significant role in her writing.
© Troy Media
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