Change is the only constant in human experience; this constancy, however, does not imply mere randomness, but a structured transformation or change. What we call ‘civilisation’ is not a fixed entity but a dynamic configuration of material conditions, institutions, and meanings that continuously reorganise and evolve. The notion of ‘ages’ is therefore an analytical construct used to mark long stretches of periods in which a relatively stable set of underlying principles temporarily cohere before giving way to new configurations. Thus, history is not merely a sequence of events, but a process of successive reconstitutions of the fundamental structures that keep on shaping human life.
To make sense of long stretches of time and major shifts, historians often divide human history into broad ‘ages’. One of such is the Stone Age, the earliest one indicating humans relying heavily on stone tools, which was further broken into ‘Paleolithic,’ referring to hunter-gatherers, followed by a transition in the ‘Mesolithic’ period, and then farming began in the ‘Neolithic’ stage. This was then followed by the Bronze Age, and then the Iron Age set in, when iron became dominant, and societies grew more complex. Transformation then reaches the Modern Age, often associated with industrialisation, technological advancement, and globalization. While these divisions are helpful, it’s worth remembering that these are simplifications – different regions of the world experienced these changes at different times and in different ways.
Theological doctrine and mythological context have different constructs and perspectives in defining ages, keeping the cycle and configurations fairly identical in periodic terms. In Hindu mythology, time is understood as a repeating cycle of four great ages, known as Yugas, which together form a continuous loop of creation and decline. The first and most virtuous age is the Satya Yuga, also called Krita Yuga, featured with a period of truth, righteousness, and harmony where humanity lives in perfect alignment with dharma or cosmic law. Then sets in Treta Yuga, where virtue begins to decline slightly, and moral order weakens, though goodness still largely prevails. The third age, Dvapara Yuga, sees a further decline in righteousness, with increased conflict, division, and the fading of spiritual awareness. Finally comes the Kali Yuga, the present age according to tradition, characterised by moral decay, ignorance, and materialism dominating human life.
In Islamic belief, time is not divided into repeating mythological ‘ages’ like in some other traditions; instead, it is understood as a linear journey from creation to the end of the world, guided by divine revelation. However, scholars sometimes describe broad phases in a historical and spiritual sense. The earliest is the time from creation and the first humans, beginning with Adam, followed by long periods in which prophets were sent to different communities to guide them.
We are now living in a time where stories shape reality as much as facts do. With the rise of digital media, information is no longer just transmitted – it is framed, curated, and often dramatised to capture attention. In this environment, competing narratives circulate rapidly, each offering its own version of truth, influenced by ideology, identity, or strategic intent. As a result, public understanding is less about discovering a single objective reality and more about navigating a landscape of persuasive stories. Narratives can distort the truth by selectively presenting facts, emphasising certain details while ignoring others, and framing events in a way that supports a particular perspective. Instead of offering a complete and neutral account, a narrative often simplifies complex realities, shaping how people interpret what happened. This can lead to bias, misunderstanding, or even deliberate manipulation, especially when emotions, beliefs, or agendas are involved. Over time, repeated narratives can become accepted as truth, even if they only reflect a partial or altered version of reality.
Studies suggest that narratives shape truth as well as sometimes distort it. Cognitive psychologist Jerome Bruner, in his work Actual Minds, Possible Worlds, explains how humans think in two modes: logical reasoning and narrative. He argues that narratives don’t just reflect reality – they construct it, which opens the door to selective truth. Communication scholar Walter Fisher, known for the Narrative Paradigm Theory, suggests that people evaluate stories based on coherence and credibility rather than objective truth. This shows how a convincing narrative can be accepted even if it’s misleading. The same facts can be framed differently, leading to different ‘truths.’ Erving Goffman in his book Frame Analysis, introduced how ‘frames’ shape interpretation and argues that frames are the ‘principles of organisation’ that define the meaning of events.
One simple takeaway is that while narratives are not flat-out or obvious lies, they, however, shape reality by organising and interpreting facts, so they can easily become biased, selective, or even misleading. The present-day orgy of disinformation and the contemporary saturation of competing narratives raise important questions about how tenuous the boundary between truth and constructed interpretation has become. Experience and evidence suggest that narratives are being manufactured to an extent that the fine line between facts and lies sometimes becomes so imprecise that fiction stands as facts while facts turn into fiction. The famous paradox that set the tune of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, chanted by the three Witches in the opening scene of (Act 1, Scene 1) – “fair is foul and foul is fair” is a spot-on reflection of such masquerading narratives.
The ultimate danger of such manipulation is that it creates smoky screens that hide the fundamental truth beneath a gleaming lie where perfidy takes over purity, profane pretends to be pious, and pirates pretends to be protectors. It becomes even more dangerous when the means, machineries, and mechanisms used to shape narratives are controlled by the dishonest, allowing the immoral to monopolise the narrative itself. It is even scarier that social media platforms nowadays have become inundated with distorted narratives, agenda-driven indoctrination, disinformation, rumours, and propaganda to such an extent that one may easily find oneself adrift in a tangle of carefully disguised deceptions masquerading as truth.
For the sake of truth alone, we must regard this matter with the utmost attention and care. It unquestionably warrants moral principles, social codes, and legal frameworks so that frauds are not mistaken for the authentic, the foul is not treated as fair, and truth itself does not vanish beneath the vanity of lies. Otherwise, the day will come when all things shall kneel before monsters, and the crown shall rest upon unworthy heads.
The writer is a Civil Servant and Former Diplomat
