RIP Expertise (The Death of Knowledge)
The world is collapsing under the weight of its own stupidity, and somehow, we’ve all collectively agreed that it’s perfectly fine. No, better than fine — it’s preferable.
If you’ve got a PhD in molecular biology, you’re just some nerd with a clipboard.
But if you’re a TikTok influencer who lip-syncs to outdated pop songs while holding a jar of dubious detox tea? Now you’re a trusted voice in the war against Big Pharma.
This is the era of celebrity expertise. And knowing nothing with confidence beats knowing everything with humility. It’s a game where being loud and sparkly is worth more than being smart, and we’re all playing along like it’s not absolutely deranged.
At some point, we collectively decided that scientists, doctors, and other professionals — people who dedicate their entire lives to understanding complex issues — are just… boring. Their years of rigorous study, clinical trials, and peer-reviewed findings can’t compete with the glitz and glamour of someone famous for pretending to be a lawyer on a prime-time drama.
Maybe it’s because celebrities have better Instagram filters, or maybe it’s because the average person wants their information spoon-fed in bite-sized, dopamine-packed morsels. Either way, science has been demoted from a beacon of knowledge to a punchline in the comment section of a conspiracy theory post.
You can almost pinpoint the moment expertise started to die. It wasn’t one big event; it was more like a slow bleed, a gradual erosion of trust in anyone who uses big words or doesn’t smile for the camera. It probably began with reality TV. We let average people become stars for doing absolutely nothing. Then those stars started endorsing products, and we thought, “Yeah, I will buy this overpriced face cream recommended by someone who got famous for flipping a table on a Bravo show.”
And once we were comfortable with that level of absurdity, the floodgates opened. Suddenly, everyone with a blue checkmark on social media was an authority on vaccines, climate change, and international trade agreements.
The Experts themselves — and by extension, the institutions they represent — have done a phenomenal job of shooting their own credibility in the foot. Remember when COVID hit and the messaging was as stable as a Jenga tower in an earthquake? First, masks were useless. Then, masks were essential. Then it was two masks. Then it was no masks again because someone in a position of power decided to “interpret the science creatively.” Wash your groceries! No, don’t bother. Six feet apart is safe! Wait, maybe it’s not. It’s like watching the world’s most excruciating improv skit where the only prompt is “confuse the hell out of people.”
The problem isn’t that scientists don’t know what they’re doing. It’s that they know too much and communicate it like they’re lecturing a room of graduate students at a conference instead of trying to reach millions of exhausted, scared, and suspicious human beings. The nuances of evolving data, shifting recommendations, and long-term studies are valid — but guess what? Nobody wants to hear about the “uncertainty of emerging evidence” when they’re trying to figure out if hugging their grandma will send her to the ICU. Meanwhile, the celebrity on Instagram is saying, “Don’t worry, fam! Crystals and keto keep your immune system THRIVING!” Who do you think wins that messaging war?
Scientists are painfully bad at hiding their elitism. They act surprised when regular people don’t immediately swallow their findings without question, as though trust isn’t something you earn but something that comes with your lab coat. When a doctor or researcher delivers information with a tone that essentially says, “You’re too stupid to understand this, but here’s the deal,” they alienate the very people they’re trying to educate. Then they double down, painting anyone who questions them as a “science denier” — as if lumping someone who doesn’t understand vaccine efficacy into the same category as a flat-earther is going to help. It’s the intellectual equivalent of screaming “I’M RIGHT” into someone’s face and being baffled when they don’t thank you for the enlightenment.
And let’s not ignore the skeletons in the closet of science as an institution. Decades of shady deals with pharmaceutical companies, government cover-ups, and “science” bought and paid for by the highest bidder have left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. When people find out that the same industry telling them what’s best for their health also spent years marketing cigarettes as safe or sugar as harmless, it’s hard not to think, Maybe these guys are full of shit. And sure, there are good scientists doing incredible work, but once trust is shattered, it’s damn near impossible to piece it back together — especially when you’re competing with influencers offering easy answers and dopamine hits in 30-second reels.
Add to that the fact that some scientists are elitist jerks who really don’t think much of the public, and suddenly, the populist mantra of “Fuck the Experts” feels less like rebellion and more like self-defense. For every brilliant, humble researcher trying to make the world a better place, there’s an out-of-touch academic sneering at anyone who doesn’t read peer-reviewed journals for fun. People can smell that condescension a mile away, and they will absolutely choose the smiling influencer over the guy who makes them feel like a dumbass.
When experts do get called out for inconsistency or elitism, their response is almost always to dig in their heels. Instead of acknowledging past missteps or trying to connect with people on a human level, they double down on the whole “we’re the smart ones, you’re not” routine. And that just feeds into the cycle of mistrust. People don’t want to hear, “Trust us, we know better,” from the same institutions that have been caught lying, flip-flopping, or outright dismissing valid concerns. They want transparency. They want accountability. And most of all, they want experts to admit when they’ve messed up without acting like they’re doing everyone a favor by gracing them with their expertise.
It’s no wonder people have started questioning whether the experts really had our best interests at heart — and fair enough. There’s plenty of historical precedent to suggest they might not. But instead of questioning systems, we decided to chuck the entire concept of knowing things into the garbage and replace it with vibes. Now we trust whoever feels right. And a celebrity with a soft smile and a soothing voice feels a better than some guy in a lab coat explaining mortality rates with a PowerPoint slide.
The problem is that celebrities are not just harmless distractions anymore; they’re shaping public discourse on life-and-death issues. A retired actress who once starred in a romantic comedy now has more sway over vaccine policy than an epidemiologist who spent 15 years studying infectious diseases. And sure, it’s easy to mock anti-vaxxers, flat-earthers, and other assorted conspiracy theorists, but the real joke is on us. We let this happen. We gave the microphone to people who make us feel good, even when they’re spreading information that’s demonstrably false.
Why? Because experts don’t entertain us. They don’t tell us what we want to hear. Scientists don’t care about your feelings; they care about facts, and facts are often cold, uncomfortable, and downright rude. A celebrity, on the other hand, knows exactly how to stroke your ego while selling you a lie. They’ll assure you that you’re smarter than the experts, that your intuition is more reliable than decades of research, and that the world is a vast conspiracy designed to keep you from achieving your best life. And we eat it up because it makes us feel special. We want to believe that the elite class of scientists, academics, and medical professionals is out to get us because the alternative — that they’re just doing their jobs and we’re too lazy or unqualified to understand — is a little too humbling.
The internet has only made this worse. Social media has turned us into experts in everything and masters of nothing. Everyone has a platform now, which means everyone’s opinion is treated as equally valid, even when it’s obviously not. Got a hot take about how gravity is a hoax perpetrated by NASA? Post it. Somebody will agree with you, and their agreement will validate your nonsense until you feel like a renegade genius. Meanwhile, the actual experts — who are probably too busy, I don’t know, solving real problems — are drowned out by the noise. It’s like we’ve built a massive echo chamber where ignorance bounces around until it starts to sound like wisdom.
What’s worse is that this phenomenon isn’t limited to the fringes anymore. It’s mainstream. Politicians cite celebrity endorsements as if they’re legitimate evidence. Major news outlets cover celebrity opinions on science, health, and policy with the same weight they’d give to a Nobel Prize-winning researcher. We’re letting actors and athletes steer conversations about issues they barely understand because they’re famous. And when those conversations inevitably veer off a cliff, we act surprised, as if we didn’t set the GPS to Disaster Town ourselves.
There’s a deeply cynical side to all of this. The celebrities we listen too aren’t (necessarily) stupid — they know their influence is absurd. They’ve turned their status into a hustle, slapping their names on everything from mental health apps to cryptocurrency scams. And why not? If the public is willing to take financial advice from someone who spent their twenties in a boy band, that’s on us. We’ve created a system where being well-known is more profitable than being well-informed, and now we’re paying the price. In the end, it’s not really about the celebrities or the experts; it’s about us. We’ve chosen to live in a world where charisma outweighs credibility, where the person with the biggest platform is automatically the most trustworthy.
We are hurtling toward an apocalyptic future where society’s biggest problems are being solved by the cast of the latest Marvel movie. Meanwhile, the actual experts are relegated to the sidelines, shouting into the void while the rest of us scroll through our feeds, liking posts from celebrities who assure us everything is fine. It’s not fine. It’s never been fine. But at least we feel good, and isn’t that what really matters?
Maybe we should stop pretending celebrities are qualified to do anything beyond being famous.
Maybe we should let scientists, researchers, and actual experts back into the conversation.
Maybe we should admit that we don’t know everything, and that’s okay, because there are people out there who do — and they’re not wearing Gucci on the red carpet.
Or maybe we’ll keep doing what we’ve always done: ignore the experts, listen to the loudest voices, and hope for the best while bracing for the inevitable.
After all, we’re only human, and humans are terrible at making good decisions.
Just ask the experts.
