Years ago, a small video titled “Me at the zoo” slipped quietly onto the YouTube site, launching what would quickly become the world’s open classroom. Today, millions of people can learn how to fix a leaky faucet, make a loaf of sourdough bread, create a website, or fix a motorcycle by watching a stranger explain the process. I have a healthy respect for this revolution in information availability, but I am not swallowing everything that’s being fed to me.

We used to need a gatekeeper to teach us even the simplest things. We had to sign up, be apprenticed, or at least find someone willing to explain the process to us. Now, I can observe a mechanic in Manila, a baker in Paris, or a farmer in Iowa explain how to do things, all before lunch. I have watched carpenters measure twice and cut once, surgeons explain how they do their work in public lectures, and teachers explain the basics of algebra in everyday language. The democratization of information has occurred. The workshops, kitchens, studios, and classrooms of the world have opened their doors.

Search engines have greatly enhanced the democratization of information. A single Google query can pull up information, manuals, discussions, and instructions in a matter of seconds. What used to take hours in a library can be found instantly on a screen. The availability of tools from the company OpenAI means the information isn’t static; it’s interactive, dynamic, and specific to the question at hand. You can ask for clarification, ask for examples, or even challenge what’s being said.

These benefits were never available in this form or at this level before. Previous generations received information from encyclopedias that were already outdated the moment they were bound into book form. Today, we update information in real-time. In an emergency, we update guidelines in real time. We share new discoveries and experiments with new technologies almost at the speed of light. This is not a minor change; it is a fundamental transformation in how we process information and how we compete with each other.

Yet I have also seen misinformation spread at the same speed. The platforms reward “engagement,” not “truth.” The loudest voice, the most dramatic music, and the slickest production value can make lies seem more believable than the truth. Health misinformation travels alongside legitimate health advice. Financial scams masquerade as “investment tips.” Historical falsehoods disguise themselves as “patriotic correctives.” The very tools we use to help honest teachers now fuel reckless or dishonest teachers.

The problem is not only with the lies we tell each other but also with the half-truths we share with each other: advice without enough context to be useful, advice oversimplified to the point of being dangerous. The do-it-yourself repair video might not mention the risk of electrical shock. The nutrition advice might cite the studies they agree with while ignoring the consensus of the medical profession. The platforms often reward what is popular, not what is true. It is hard work to take a step back and verify what we are being told: who is speaking, what are their credentials, and do they agree with others?

I have learned to think of social media as a vast public marketplace. There are master craftsmen who demonstrate skill, and there are peddlers who sell glitter. It is on me to discern the difference. I research. I compare. I search for signs of training, experience, or attribution. If something appears too good or too outlandish to be true, I pause. Skepticism, I have found, is not the same as cynicism. It is self-preservation.

The digital era has made available to mankind an unprecedented library and an equally unprecedented rumor mill. They coexist in the same device in my hand. The appropriate approach is neither naive faith nor wholesale skepticism, but rather a discerning interest—studying assiduously, checking assiduously, and recalling that technology reflects the character of those who use it. It can hone minds and broaden minds. It can lead astray as easily. The choice, stubbornly and forever, remains ours.

WE, of course, need to eat bread also. After all, we are also material beings that need to be fed and nourished by material food, such as bread. But since we are also spiritual and supposed to be a supernatural being—in fact, eminently so—we should not limit ourselves to natural food. We should look more for the spiritual and supernatural food that is more proper to us.

This could be the reason why from time to time the Church asks us to do some fasting. It’s meant to draw us closer to God, seeking spiritual growth and self-reflection. It is also a good way to practice self-discipline and self-control, the contrary of which we are quite notorious in. It effectively expresses repentance and humility which is the antidote for our tendency to be proud and vain. It helps us to focus on prayer and spiritual nourishment.
In short, fasting can deepen our faith. It can prod us to seek guidance and wisdom instead of just relying on our own ideas. It makes us follow clearly what Christ told us with respect to self-denial. We should do everything to make fasting a regular feature of our life.

This means that we should always be on guard against gluttony. We cannot deny that, especially in our current world culture, we tend to overeat, consume large amounts of unhealthy or luxurious food and drink.

We even give the highest priority to food and drink over other aspects of life. It is also likely that gluttony leads us to ignore health and social duties due to excessive eating and drinking.

We really have to make fasting a regular practice in our life. With fasting, we would be more aware of our real needs. It certainly would strengthen our willpower and discipline.
More importantly, it helps us to shift our focus from food to spiritual growth and the other more important aspects of life. This is not to mention that fasting somehow cultivates a stronger sense of gratitude as we would be more appreciative of the food we have. Besides, fasting can develop in us a keener sense of empathy as we join in spirit with those who also fast or who go without food.

Fasting can also make us more resistant to the temptations of the devil and to the many allurements of the world. And it would make us more attentive to what really matters in our life—listening and living out the word of God. (cfr. Mt 4,4) It certainly would make us more able to dominate our animal self to bring us to our ideal spiritual and supernatural self.

Let’s never forget that we also are an animal ruled merely by instincts, hormones and other biological elements. The animal in us should be dominated by our human rationality which also ought to be guided by the spiritual and supernatural will of God in whose image and likeness we have been created.

We therefore have to undertake a lifelong process of integrating the animal in us with the rationality of our human nature that in the end should be purified and elevated to the spiritual and supernatural life and nature of God. And fasting, together with prayer and other ascetical means, plays an important role in this.

The challenge therefore is how to carry out this very tricky and demanding task of integrating all these aspects. And for this, we should first of all rely on the grace of God, always asking for it even if it is readily given to us. That’s because we often take God’s grace for granted, and thus make ourselves the improper ground unable to take advantage of the grace that is sown on it.