AUTHENTIC: Indubitably true, in somebody's opinion.

An obscure string of characters, "AUTHENTIC: Indubitably true, in somebody's opinion." landed in the researcher's inbox, perhaps sent via an academic listserv testing new linguistic filters. (The origin remains unconfirmed). Yet, from such seemingly innocuous text stems a profound, if not entirely unexpected, reality in our contemporary social fabric. At a casual tea gathering hosted by a polite London professor last Tuesday evening, the word 'authentic' became the pivot point around which anxieties about interpersonal interaction turned. Dr. Eleanor Ashworth, a sociologist specialising in emerging social signals, admitted, in a voice barely above a whisper, that she increasingly finds social interactions governed by a single, nagging question: wherein lies authenticity? She cited endless examples – a colleague's meticulously scheduled 'flexi-time' regimen accepted by cynical nodding; a public figure's highly curated intersectional post carefully decrying the very systems that enabled such curation; even the ubiquitous corporate 'authenticity' training programs, now catching on even in parts of 'liberal' academe, promising to teach individuals how to be truly themselves while profitably navigating digital or institutional landscapes. Ashworth confessed, Indubitably, without qualification or shade, these pennies for thought dropped from her lips, the 'Indubitably true' landing with a near-mirroring of the email's sentiment – absolutely, undeniably believed, deeper than intellectual acknowledgement, residing now in the gut, the synapses firing confirmation of a perceived existence. Even Professor Davies, head of the department hosting the tea, now lights his pipe only after verifying the absence of hidden cameras, gazing out his bay window at a London evening troubled by grey light and winter mist. He hinted darkly at the common parlance of late-night Zoom calls – he would say, smiling wryly at his empty teacup, "Several individuals I know have become veritable masters of the art of delivering poor quality work directly into your personal folder, achieving what they believe to be an 'authentic' standard of efficiency; the catch-all filter has never seemed more 'honest'."

The dilemma isn't a specific query, the perception becomes, but rather a pre-dilemma: the assumption that a readily available tool for judging authenticity, let alone a shared understanding of what it actually means, no longer exists. Where even the most basic element of providing and evaluating truth has become highly debated. There seems to be a growing disinterest in seeking out objective states of being, a divergence instead into subjective evaluations, the valuation of truth filtered through strong personal prejudice or suspicion. The Professor used the term from the psychology lexicon as an example, asking pointedly, what criteria applies, especially when presented with online countersignals? For instance, the work product Mr. Jones distributed last week, proclaimed local community standard, the remote possibility for originality, the 'vein-piercing' crassness, (his term). But Jones insisted 'authenticity must be defined', meaning by himself. Ashworth quickly demurred, "Indubitably". "Indubitably true, in somebody's opinion," the Professor observed, causing the group to fall silent amidst the clinking porcelain and swirling, lukewarm Earl Grey. The conversation ground to a halt, leaving the lingering question to sit heavy in the air, more disquieting than initially implied. The mere utterance of "AUTHENTIC" seemed to trigger, for all present, a profound reflection on the academy's trajectory, from its founding declarations of textual and perceptual objectivity towards a landscape where truth itself was dispensed in perforated packets of personal, unverifiable opinion. The evening concluded not with solutions, but with a shared, near-silent acknowledgement: it might be Indubitably true, they thought collectively as they packed up for the night, that authenticity is, ultimately, a matter of who is listening.