Truth & Treason in the Era of Trump

Ron Watermon • November 10, 2025

A reflection on the power of true stories and the cost of silence in an age of lies

The Theater of Revelation

I didn’t expect to get emotional in the movie theater that afternoon. But as the credits rolled on Truth & Treason, I sat in the dark with my wife, profoundly moved. 


The film chronicles the real-life courage of Helmuth Hübener, a German teenager who defied Hitler’s propaganda by distributing leaflets of truth. He was executed for treason at seventeen. 


It’s one of the best films I’ve seen in a long time.


Watching it, I realized it wasn’t just about Nazi Germany. It was about what happens when fear, fatigue, and convenience persuade decent people to stay quiet while bad things happen around them. In that sense, it was a message to me about what I need to do as a filmmaker, a business owner, and as an American.


That is why I’ve decided to violate one of my Cardinal rules of business with this article. 


For years, I’ve believed in civility. Diplomacy. I built a career around respect, meeting people where they are, avoiding politics, and finding common ground. 


My diplomacy-first approach has served me well for most of my life.  But I also know that my tendency for conflict avoidance is a fault.


Lately, I’ve started asking a harder question:


At what point does restraint, conflict avoidance, and staying silent become complicity?


My work these days centers on helping people take control of their stories. But watching Truth & Treason made me realize something deeper: stories don’t just reflect who we are, they shape who we become. And in an age where lies move faster than light, maybe telling the truth is the most radical act of all.



My Documentary Director's Perspective

That sense of history repeating itself has haunted me since I began directing Steak Guerrillas: The Dr. Arturo M. Taca Story. The documentary follows the extraordinary life of Dr. Arturo M. Taca, a Filipino physician who fled the Marcos regime, resettled in St. Louis, and devoted his life to pushing Filipinos to stand up against dictatorship.


Having worked in politics and lobbying, I was drawn to Dr. Taca’s story because I wanted to understand how democratic disagreement can transform into hate and how political opponents can turn into enemies.


As a physician, Taca swore the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm, yet he found himself fighting a dictator who weaponized lies and fear. He got to the point that he advocated for the use of violence and then helped secure explosives, guns, and money to help wage a guerrilla war. I wanted to understand what drove him there.


“When you deal in politics, it’s difficult to separate the personal from the political,” Taca once told a reporter after a pipe bomb exploded outside his Illinois clinic. That wasn’t a lament—it was a statement of fact. He lived his convictions even when they carried a cost.


That quote has been playing in my head of late, especially as we work to finish the film.


Through Taca’s story, I’ve come to understand how easily a democracy can collapse from within. Ferdinand Marcos didn’t seize power overnight; he dismantled institutions piece by piece. He used fear to justify censorship, rewarded loyalty over merit, enriched himself while imprisoning opponents, and replaced truth with propaganda until millions believed him.


The story of Dr. Taca isn’t just about the Philippines. It’s about the fragility of freedom everywhere. It is about how democracies die slowly, through polite silence and exhausted consent. Fascism rarely arrives with fanfare. It comes disguised as patriotism. I used to think that couldn’t happen here in the United States. Now, I’m not so sure.


When I hear calls to punish the press, when I see academic freedom dismissed as elitism, when public broadcasting—the soul of civic storytelling—is defunded, I think of dictators like Marcos. He, too, rebranded censorship as “national unity.”

Like Hitler, he made truth the enemy.


Lügenpresse was the Nazi-era predecessor to the “fake news” moniker popularized by Trump. The tactic behind the approach is part of the propagandist playbook. 


We are asked daily to prove our loyalty—to party, tribe, or algorithm—rather than to principle. But democracy isn’t a spectator sport. It survives only when enough people refuse to play along with the lies.


 

When Silence Stops Feeling Safe

My friend, let’s call him David (name changed for his family’s safety), understands this better than most. David’s a gifted storyteller I’ve worked with over the years.


Last year, the day after the election, we filmed together at his place, working on our pitch video for Steak Guerrillas.

Before that day, we were both hopeful about the future. The industry felt alive, the country uncertain but resilient. But this was the day after the election, and we all felt different now. 


I remember David telling me that he and his wife had decided to move to Canada before their kids started school. Their youngest child is transgender, and before the election they were increasingly uneasy about the direction of the country.


After the election they felt their fate was sealed and moving was no longer a choice but an imperative.


He said it matter of fact - almost apologetically, like someone saying something they weren’t sure they were allowed to feel.


At first, I thought it was temporary anxiety—something that would pass when things calmed down. But over the next several months, I watched him turn fear into a plan. He rented his house, packed his family, and moved to Canada.


They started over from scratch in a new country because they believed it was the only way to keep their child safe and have peace of mind.


David isn’t paranoid. He’s Jewish. History has taught him that when powerful people begin to dehumanize others, it’s time to pay attention.


When anyone like David feel they must flee their own country, something fundamental is broken. I support his decision completely, but I’m heartbroken that he had to make it.


His departure feels symbolic of something bigger—a quiet exodus of good people from the public square, pushed out not by persecution but by exhaustion, cynicism, and fear. When anyone feels they must flee their own country, something fundamental has broken.

 


The Power of Art to Warn

I used to believe art and politics were separate spheres. Films could “rise above” ideology. I don’t believe that now. I believe every story carries moral DNA.  Even neutrality has consequences.


To not speak of evil is to speak. To not act is to act.” — Truth & Treason


There comes a point where we must all act. Helmuth Hübener’s moral compass came down to a single line of faith: “Do what is right; let the consequence follow.”


To make films about truth in an era of disinformation is inherently political, whether we admit it or not. The question is not if our work takes a side, it’s which side of history it chooses.


Director Matt Whitaker spent two decades fighting to bring Truth & Treason to life. Watching his persistence reminds me why I became a filmmaker in the first place.


Matt’s work affirmed that my own creative shift—from fee-for-service storytelling to independent truth-telling—is the right one.


The world doesn’t need more content. It needs more courage. And it needs more truth.

 


America’s Rapid Descent

We like to think authoritarianism happens elsewhere, or that we’d recognize it before it arrived. But it doesn’t work that way. It creeps in quietly through fatigue, fear, and the small compromises we tell ourselves are harmless.


What’s most alarming about our current moment is how fast it’s happening. I see the military presence in our cities, the assault on academia, the hollowing out of journalism, the consolidation of media and tech—all within a year.


Over the last few years, I’ve also experienced a bullying presence of mean-spirited, ignorant angry mobs of highly opinionated “friends” on social media pushing people into corners. It is a troubling fact of life.   


I’ve watched the takeover of cultural institutions, the purging of dissenting voices, and our fragile documentary ecosystem brought to its knees. Today, the documentary economy looks like the east wing of the White House. It is sad.


When I study Marcos, I see how easily power and wealth merge into something toxic. He turned government into a personal fortune machine, using fear and greed to control his opponents. Trump has done the same, wielding tariffs, lawsuits, and political theater to reward loyalty and punish dissent. He allows cronies and foreign investors to buy influence and control in industries once thought untouchable.


The pattern is always the same: leaders erode accountability by eroding empathy. They make cruelty feel normal. They make truth feel optional. They teach us that there are different rules for different people, until no one is safe.


It’s alarming to see respected institutions—law firms, universities, corporations—capitulate to power in real time. It’s as if they’ve internalized the words of that great Canadian philosopher from our “51st state,” Geddy Lee:


Conform or be cast out.”


While I empathize with their Rush to kiss Trump’s ring, I’m reminded of another insight by the Canadian rocker that speaks to the acquiescence that enables authoritarianism to take hold. 


Choosing not to decide, you still have made a choice.”   


That insight drives my shift from sitting on the sidelines to speaking out. When you see something, say something. Morality matters. 

 


Tell The Truth – Let the Consequences Follow

For years, I told myself that avoiding politics was professionalism. I didn’t want to alienate clients or collaborators. I convinced myself my role was to help others tell their stories, not to insert my own.  It was my lawyer mindset, stepping in as an advocate. 


But silence tells a story too, and I’m not proud of the one mine has told.


I’ve come to believe that the antidote to fascism isn’t politics—it’s storytelling. True storytelling. Because stories humanize what fear dehumanizes. They remind us that truth isn’t an abstraction; it’s lived experience.


Every time we record a testimony, preserve a family’s legacy, or finish a documentary like Steak Guerrillas, we’re doing more than making art. We are defending truth itself. In a time when institutions are collapsing, individual storytellers must become the new press corps of conscience.


Courage rarely looks cinematic. It’s not a grand speech or a final stand. Most days, it’s quieter. It is the decision to speak honestly in a meeting or to tell a hard truth even when it risks comfort or revenue.


Successful filmmaking, like democracy, depends on collaboration and integrity. Both falter when fear dictates the script. We need independent creators willing to let truth, not approval, be their metric for success.


That’s why at STORYSMART® we’re building a studio model where artists share ownership and responsibility for truth-telling alongside those who lived the stories.


If we want honest stories, we must build honest, equitable systems to make them.


At its core, storytelling is an act of empathy.  It asks us to inhabit lives not our own, to feel what others feel, to remember what power wants us to forget. That’s why tyrants fear artists—not because art is partisan, but because empathy is destabilizing. Seeing from another perspective can shift your own.


When we tell Dr. Taca’s story, or David’s, or Helmuth Hübener’s, we’re not just preserving history, we’re interrogating our own comfort to reach a universal truth.


The future of democracy may depend less on politicians than on storytellers.


The public square has migrated from town halls to social platforms. Narratives, true or otherwise, now shape reality faster than policy does. That’s a terrifying power if left to algorithms or angry mobs with agendas alone.


We need independent creators, journalists, filmmakers, and citizens who treat truth as a collective inheritance, not a commodity.


That’s why it is important to help people own their true stories before someone else weaponizes them or exploits them for their own gain or agenda.


Truth-telling can’t just be reactive. It must be aspirational, helping us make sense of things while envisioning what we still can become. 


Every authentic story, no matter how small, plants a flag for empathy. Empathy is the key ingredient to storytelling and our shared humanity. Without it, what do we have?  How do we relate to one another or even co-exist?


I return to a question that haunted me in the theater that day:


What would I have done in 1930s Germany?


Or 1970s Manila? Or today in the United States of America?


The answer, I hope, is this: I would tell the true story. 


That’s what Helmuth Hübener did with his leaflets.   


That’s what Dr. Taca did with his memoirs.


That’s what filmmakers like Matt Whitaker have done on screen. 


Storytelling won’t topple tyrants overnight, but it can fortify the human spirit that outlasts them.


I agree with Matt Whitaker when he says, “art leads culture, and culture leads politics”.


If we want a politics grounded in truth, we must first create a culture brave enough to tell it. We may not all hold cameras, but we all hold stories. And each story told truthfully is a strike against the darkness. 


Truth may be treason in an empire of lies, but it’s the only kind worth committing. 


--Ron Watermon

 


About the Author

Ron Watermon is a filmmaker, author, and founder of STORYSMART®, a story development film studio that helps individuals preserve, protect, and profit from their true stories.


He is currently directing Steak Guerrillas: The Dr. Arturo M. Taca Story, a documentary exploring courage, truth, and the cost of resistance. Learn more at storysmart.net, ronwatermon.com and steakguerillas.com


By Ron Watermon November 3, 2025
If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ve heard me beat the drum about taking control of your story. About owning your rights. About protecting the intellectual property that comes from your life experiences. I’ll keep beating that drum because your story is one of your greatest assets. But here’s the counterintuitive truth I want to explore today: simply living a great story isn’t where the real value lies. It isn’t inherently valuable as a blob of ideas or past experiences. From a financial standpoint, your “story” is worthless without “storytelling.” It is the creative process of sharing or producing a story that drives most of the value of that story. The harsh truth is that the real value of a film or TV series based on a true story lies primarily in its production. The quality of the story's telling drives more of the financial value than any other factor. The life rights and cooperation of the subjects of true stories have some financial value, but it is typically disproportionate to the most critical investments in driving monetary value. More than ninety percent of the value of a story comes not from the fact that it happened, but from how it’s told. That explains why there is such a disparity in how much securing rights accounts for in most Hollywood projects. Life rights and related expenses are typically less than five percent of the overall budget of a film based on a true story. Now, that fraction would likely be different if you were Taylor Swift or some other big celebrity. A crap story about a celebrity can sell and make money. And a great one can too. And it is fair to say the celebrity brings more to those projects than to the typical “true story”. They can typically demand more than 5%. But even in most of these cases, the life rights don’t exceed ten percent (10%) of the overall budget because the most important investments with the highest return on investment are creative. That may sound surprising coming from someone who’s consistently talked about the importance of ownership. But stick with me on this, because this is where balance, not being greedy, and not being selfish, comes in. While understanding your rights and the advantages of controlling the process are essential, to maximize the profitability of sharing your story, you must recognize the critical role of the creators in crafting your narrative. They will typically bring much more value to it than you will. The storytelling team and their work will drive most of the real value of your story. The value of storytelling lies in the creative craft of storytelling. The High School Summer Vacation Essay Analogy Think back to high school. Imagine you had the most epic summer vacation of anyone in your class. You traveled to places your classmates had never seen, you met fascinating people, you had experiences that would make for an unforgettable story. Now picture the teacher assigning an essay: “Write about your summer vacation.” Just because you lived the best story doesn’t mean you’ll tell it well. Your essay might read flat, while a classmate with a far less exciting summer writes something so engaging it has everyone laughing or tearing up. The fact that you lived it and can share your account doesn’t mean your telling will do real justice to the truth of what happened. Frankly, you can do more harm than good if you share it poorly. You could turn an epic story into crap with bad storytelling. That’s the point. Storytelling is a craft. Done well, it unlocks value. Done poorly, it leaves potential on the table. If you are serious about making the most of your story, then your most important task is building a great creative team to produce the storytelling. Michael Jordan and The Last Dance Take Michael Jordan. He lived one of the most remarkable basketball careers of all time. Six championships. Back-to-back three-peats. A cultural icon beyond the court. But what made The Last Dance — the documentary chronicling those final two championship seasons — a global hit wasn’t just his career stats. It was how the story was told. Jordan was smart. He controlled the rights to the footage. He waited until the timing was right. And when he finally moved forward, he chose the creative storytelling team he wanted. He demanded excellence from the storytellers. He provided access, but then he let them do their work. The result? A ten-part masterpiece that captivated audiences around the world. Jordan wanted control, yes. And he took his rightful share of the profits. But he wasn’t greedy. He understood that value multiplies when you pair the raw story with the right storytellers. That is the lesson for you. T aylor Swift: Beachfront Property Analogy Now, not everyone starts from the same place. Taylor Swift is the rare example of someone who could put out a shaky iPhone documentary, and millions would watch. Her fandom guarantees it. That’s beachfront property in the world of stories if storytelling were real estate development. Her land is so prime that people will line up no matter what you build on it. But here’s the thing: even Taylor doesn’t stop there. She hires the right creative team to undertake the work at her direction. She invests in quality storytelling. She crafts eras. She layers her music with symbolism. She produces high-quality films of her concerts, transforming a live show into something fans will relive for years. She proves that even when the land is prime, the right development makes it exponentially more valuable. She is STORYSMART®. Jordan and Swift are showing us the way. Where Balance Comes In So where does that leave the rest of us? Owning your story doesn’t mean hoarding it or being greedy. When it comes to professional storytelling at the highest level, selfish is stupid. It doesn’t mean going it alone. But it also doesn’t mean handing it over to someone else and hoping they’ll do it justice. Great storytelling requires creative collaboration. That concept of smart, creative collaboration drives our work. The STORYSMART® Way is about balance, inclusion, and bringing together the best of what exists in storytelling today. It’s about honoring the authenticity of your lived experience while recognizing the immense creative lift it takes to transform that experience into something that resonates with audiences. It’s about forging partnerships that elevate the story while preserving its integrity. That’s why I talk about an ecosystem. One that rewards the person who lived the story and values the storytellers who bring it to life. Balance, not greed. Partnership, not exploitation. Creative collaboration. That’s where actual value lives. It is also what sets our framework apart from anything else you’ll find in this space. It is about bringing professionals in and giving them equity in telling your story. That is the most radical – and I’d argue, the most sensible – aspect of our approach. You don’t face an “either or” binary decision of selling out or doing it yourself. There is another way that marries the best of both into a hybrid approach – a collectivist or joint venture approach that has the potential to take your story to a transcendent level. The Real Estate Analogy Think of it like real estate. Land has inherent value. Beachfront will always be worth more than a rocky hillside (unless it has a killer view). But raw land doesn’t generate returns until you bring in architects, engineers, and builders. Quality development happens when a multi-disciplinary team collaborate like an elite level symphony performing a masterpiece. Storytelling is the same. It requires collaboration. In this analogy, your lived experience is like the land. The storytellers — the writers, filmmakers, producers, editors — are the architects and builders. Together, you collaborate to create something that multiplies the value of both. Even the best land will underperform if developed poorly. And average land, in the right hands, can become something extraordinary. Why This Matters Now We live in a time when technology and access to information have democratized storytelling. Anyone can pick up a camera, start a podcast, or self-publish a book. That’s exciting. However, the reality is that the signal-to-noise ratio is high. There is much crap out there. Millions of stories are competing for attention. Only the ones told with skill, craft, and excellence break through. That’s why quality matters more than ever. If you’ve lived something meaningful, you don’t just need to protect it — you need to tell it well. And telling it well requires recognizing the innate talents of storytellers and respecting the creative process. That starts with understanding the financial potential of the right creative collaboration. That’s the philosophy behind STORYSMART. We’re not here to replace Hollywood or declare traditional studios “bad.” Quite to the contrary. We love creators and the art they create. We’re here to pioneer a new model. One that blends the best practices of the creator economy and independent filmmaking. One that says: • The true story matters. • The storyteller matters. • And together, we can share in the value we create together. A Radical New Way Forward I don’t see the current system as broken. I see it as incomplete and corrupted by winner-take-all greed. For too long, the rewards of storytelling have tilted toward whoever controlled the intellectual property. That’s just how the business has worked. But the future is about more than control. It’s about creative collaboration. It’s about sharing. It’s about building an ecosystem where the source of the story and the team that tells it both benefit fairly and equitably. High-quality, professional storytelling for all. That’s the vision we have for the creator-owned story development studio we are pioneering. For us, it’s the way forward. In the story we are writing as we build our studio, we don’t see a villain other than systemic greed and selfishness. I see it like the movie Jaws. If you ask most people who the villain is in Jaws, most will say the shark. But they would be wrong. From a storytelling standpoint, the “villain” of that story was the town’s greed. After discovering the remains of a shark attack victim, Police Chief Brody wanted to close the beach to swimmers, but the city pushed back because it was their busy season. Don’t Be Greedy – Collaborate with Creatives If you want your story to reach the audiences it deserves, remember that more than ninety percent of the value comes from how it’s told. That means you should be investing in building your storytelling dream team, just as you would be if you were the head of your own film studio. Attach the right names to your project. Trust me when I say that having a Tom Cruise, Meryl Streep, or Taylor Sheridan wanting to help with your story will only add value. Think like that. Find the right team. The right writer. The right producer, the right director, and so on. Reject the outdated thinking that you have only two choices. Sell out or do it yourself. Selfish is stupid when it comes to storytelling at the highest levels. Embrace creative collaboration. Think partnership, joint venture, shared equity, and mitigating risk by building a dream team. At STORYSMART®, we help you navigate the path of turning your story into a film while maintaining control of your narrative. If this resonates with you, I encourage you to join our FREE STORYSMART® Storytelling for ALL™ Community, pick up my book STORYSMART Storytelling for ALL: How to Take Control, Own Your True Story and Profit Like a Hollywood Insider, or reach out to me personally. About the Storytelling for ALL™ Newsletter The Storytelling for ALL™ LinkedIn Newsletter is a guide to making the most of your true story. Twice a month, I'll share proven strategies, creative approaches, and industry-tested tools to help you take control of your narrative, protect your rights, and collaborate with great storytellers to bring your vision to life. You’ll get practical, actionable insights to adapt your story into a book, film, documentary, or legacy preservation project — using the same approaches that top professionals rely on, now made accessible to you. Whether you’re an athlete, public figure, entrepreneur, or someone with a story worth telling, this is where you’ll learn to share it — on your terms. Join the conversation with #StorytellingForALL and reach out to me personally if I can help.
By Ron Watermon November 1, 2025
In the digital media age, outrage is currency. Not just emotional currency, but authority, engagement, and sometimes market value. What if the anger you see bubbling up on social feeds isn’t purely organic, but instead the product of a manufactured campaign — run at industrial scale, with bots, trolls, and fake accounts fanning the flames? That’s the story behind two recent flashpoints: the Cracker Barrel logo debacle and the Charlie Kirk killing in Utah. The common thread: replay of a familiar playbook in digital influence operations. I first became aware of this issue when I oversaw social media for the St. Louis Cardinals. We were victimized by trolling that we later found out where fake accounts controlled by someone with an agenda. It happens more than you realize. It is important to understand that much of what you see online isn’t necessarily what it appears to be. I ‘ve been trying my darndest to educate my son about this troubling reality. The Playbook: From Real Trigger to Manufactured Tsunami A typical sequence: a genuine event or brand decision appears. Then somewhere in the feed, suddenly, an initial wave of harsh commentary. But this is amplified by networks of automated or semi‐automated accounts: fake profiles posting a high volume of posts, repeating identical talking points, deploying hashtags, creating the impression of a massive grassroots revolt. Humans then amplify the outrage further — natural users who treat the commentary as genuine, join in the pile-on. Media notices. The target reacts. The narrative crystalizes and people believe it as gospel. This dynamic has been studied in academic research: for example, social bots increased exposure to negative and inflammatory content during the 2017 Catalan referendum . The pattern has been labelled “ rage-farming ” — taking a benign or business decision, stripping context, and turning it into a cultural event by generating outrage. Case One: Cracker Barrel’s Rebrand (or “Crisis”) In August 2025, Cracker Barrel introduced a minimalist redesign of its iconic logo — removing the figure of the man leaning on the barrel, simplifying the brand. What followed, on social media, looked like a cultural backlash — waves of posts accusing the company of erasing “Americana,” capitulating to “woke” agendas, and provoking a boycott narrative. But data suggests the backlash was largely orchestrated. Research from PeakMetrics found that 44.5% of posts on X on the first day of the controversy were posted by “bots or likely bots” — nearly double the normal rate for brand discussions. Another analysis by Cyabra found that 21 % of the profiles attacking Cracker Barrel were fake accounts, generating 4.4 million potential views and correlating with a roughly 10.5 % drop in the chain’s stock price (≈ US$100 million in market value). In short: what may have started as a legitimate brand evolution was transformed into a crisis — arguably by actors seeking to create the appearance of consumer revolt rather than organic outrage. Pull this thread back and you’re looking at an influence operation using brand identity as knock-on effect weaponry. Case Two: The Killing of Charlie Kirk & the Disinformation Cascade Divides Us When conservative activist Charlie Kirk was killed in Utah in September 2025, the immediate social media reaction was chaotic and fast. But analysis reveals that part of the reaction to the podcaster’s killing was not spontaneous: foreign adversaries and bot networks seized the moment to amplify narratives of American dysfunction, civil war, and conspiracy. For example: over 6,000 mention clusters across official Russian, Chinese and Iranian channels within a week of the event. The U.S. state-level warning was immediate: Utah Governor Spencer Cox said “We have bots from Russia, China, all over the world that are trying to instill disinformation and encourage violence.” One article summarizes: “America’s adversaries have long used fake social media accounts, online bots and disinformation to depict the US as a dangerous country beset with extremism and gun violence.” The mechanics? Bot and troll networks inserted themselves into the conversation when the topic was searing. This was a breaking news dynamic. The news had not yet fully solidified, facts were still emerging. In that void, false claims proliferated: about who the shooter was, their motive, links to Ukraine, Israel, trans-ideology, etc. These narratives served broader purpose: to stoke domestic divisions, diminish trust in institutions, and disrupt public discourse at a moment of crisis. Why This Matters for STORYSMART® Practitioners For storytellers, consultants, brand strategists and communicators working in a high-noise online world, this dual trend — manufactured outrage + influence operations — poses multiple red flags and opportunities. 1. Perception vs. reality. Just because an online backlash looks huge does not mean it’s genuine. The data from Cracker Barrel shows how nearly half the early posts were automated. Without discerning bots from humans, brands or agencies may mis-read audience sentiment and mistake a manufactured wave for real consumer demand. 2. Narrative acceleration. In the age of bots + algorithms, once a narrative is injected it can spread from inauthentic accounts to real humans to media headlines — creating feedback loops that feel authentic but are engineered. That acceleration can force brand decisions (reversals, halts) under pressure. Cracker Barrel reversed its logo and remodel plans within weeks. 3. The wild field of breaking news. Big, fast news events (Kirk’s killing, natural disasters, etc.) are ripe targets for influence campaigns. Facts are incomplete; emotions are high; bots can fill the vacuum. If you’re communicating after such an event — whether as a journalistic storyteller, brand communicator or community-manager — you must assume noise is amplified, manipulated, and multi-layered. 4. Trust and narrative ownership. If 21 % of the profiles attacking a brand were fake (as with Cracker Barrel), then the “public opinion” you see may not be public at all but engineered. For storytellers using social listening data, this demands scrutiny: Which voices are real? Which are bots? The narrative you amplify might be the product of manipulation. 5. Media literacy and storytelling ethics. As a STORYSMART® framework practitioner, this is a perfect teaching moment. Your audiences (clients, teams, communities) need to know not just how to create stories, but how to see through manufactured ones. Because the cost of mis-reading the field is high: brand equity, public trust, even stock value can be sucked into the vortex. Key Signals: How to Spot Manufactured Outrage Here are some warning signs to watch for: A sudden spike in volume from accounts with little profile history (new accounts, no followers, generic avatars). Identical talking points repeated across multiple posts in short time. For example: #BoycottBrandX, #BrandXIsFinished. (Cyabra found this in the Cracker Barrel case.) The narrative pivots quickly from a product/brand detail (logo change) to culture-war framing (betrayal of tradition, woke agenda, etc.). Geographical spread and targeting: foreign state media or foreign language accounts join the conversation immediately after an event. (As in the Kirk case.) Rapid transition from social media to mainstream media coverage, with headlines referencing “outrage” and “backlash” even though underlying data may be murky What You Should Do Integrate authenticity analysis: Don’t assume all posts are equal. Use tools or manual scans to look for high-volume bot activity before concluding a backlash is real. Delay action until you understand the narrative origin: If a brand feels under attack, pause for five minutes to look at the data — is it genuine critics or orchestrated storm? Frame proactively, truthfully: If you manage the target brand or stakeholder, ensure your communication makes clear what you know, what you don’t know, and how you are listening. Silence or knee-jerk reaction plays into manufactured narratives. Teach your audience/stakeholders: In your STORYSMART® work, build into messaging the idea that not every “viral outrage” is grassroots. That meta-narrative — about how narratives are constructed — becomes part of the story. Monitor ripple effects: As we saw in Cracker Barrel’s case, the manufactured outrage had an actual financial cost. Public trust and brand value aren’t immune. Final Thought In the age of bots, troll farms, programmed outrage and attention-economy weapons, the line between “public sentiment” and “manufactured sentiment” is increasingly blurred. Whether you're working on a family-history documentary, a brand relaunch, or a social media campaign, the same rule applies: the source of the buzz matters. If that buzz has been engineered, you risk mis-reading the narrative, mis-allocating your voice, and playing into someone else’s story. For the STORYSMART® audience, this is a prime example of storytelling in practice: not just what story is told, but how it is seeded, amplified and weaponized. The more we understand the machinery behind the outrage, the better we can shape stories that are genuine, strategic, and resistant to manipulation.
By Ron Watermon October 21, 2025
When Deadline first reported that Bruce Springsteen’s Deliver Me From Nowhere was headed for the screen, I expected it would be more than another typical music biopic because it was based on a book that focused on a sliver of Springsteen’s life. That “sliver” was a singular defining period of Springsteen’s life. When I wrote my book, I took note of the fact that when Hollywood came calling, they first reached out to Warren Zanes who wrote the book and not Springsteen himself. I was trying to make the point about the importance of securing storytelling source material. The real work in telling a story is that of the author. Writing a great story isn’t easy. When it happens, someone in Hollywood is bound to notice. What I didn’t fully appreciate until now is that Springsteen’s story to screen journey is a masterclass in focus — a case study in how a single defining period, a writer who truly understands his subject, and a team of champions can move a story from the page to the screen in record time. Zane’s book was published 2023. A little more than two years later, the film is being released. That is amazing in of itself, but the approach to the story told is also instructive. Most people think you need your whole life story to make a film. Springsteen — and Warren Zanes — show us you don’t. It can be a sliver. The story behind this storytelling is a Boss lesson in storytelling that help you deliver your story from nowhere. 
By Ron Watermon October 13, 2025
Your Clear Eyes, Full Rights, Can't Lose Playbook.  If you’ve ever watched Friday Night Lights, you know the phrase: Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose. It’s the mantra Coach Taylor preached to his team. But when I look at the 35-year storytelling journey of Friday Night Lights—from a reporter’s notebook to a bestselling book, then a film, a beloved series, and now talk of a reboot—I see a slightly different mantra: Clear eyes, full rights, can’t lose. Because underneath the inspirational football story is a lesson we can draw from in how one journalist’s immersive reporting became a durable, multi-platform franchise. And for me, it’s a perfect demonstration of a pathway we advocate for at STORYSMART®. It all starts with investing in good clear-eyed journalism. It is the single most important investment you can make in developing a true story. When you take control of your source material to tell a true story and develop your story properly, your story can live on for years far beyond the page. I’m a big proponent for adopting a story franchise mindset when approaching storytelling projects. That is why I tell clients to think like a studio executive by adopting a media mogul mindset. When you open your mind to that, it opens the doors of possibilities. The storytelling journey of Friday Night Lights helps illustrate what is possible, as well as offer other lessons on what to do and not do in designing your own professional storytelling path. How a reporter’s notebook became a franchise In 1990, journalist Buzz Bissinger published Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream. It wasn’t just another sports book. He moved his family to Texas to immerse himself in this story. Bissinger spent a year in Odessa, Texas, embedded with the Permian High School Panthers, capturing the obsession, pressure, and community identity that revolved around high school football. He conducted hundreds of hours of interviews and built his narrative from a deep archive of source material. Every interview he conducted is his work product, what I often refer to as copyright protected storytelling source material. Make note of that. That depth of Buzz’s reporting gave the book credibility. It also gave it power as intellectual property. It was a fantastic book that was a hit.
By Ron Watermon October 3, 2025
The NCAA just approved new guidance on NIL (Name, Image, and Likeness) deals — and while the headlines mostly talk about money, what’s really at stake here is storytelling. Starting this past August, athletes have had to disclose NIL agreements over $600. Schools will help monitor and even facilitate opportunities, and standardized contracts are being promoted to protect athletes. Meanwhile, new rules for collectives are meant to stop disguised pay-for-play deals while still allowing legitimate business arrangements. ( Full NCAA release here )​ On the surface, this might sound like dry compliance policy. But here’s the STORYSMART® takeaway: Transparency is power. The clearer your contracts and disclosures, the harder it is for someone else to hijack your story or exploit your image. Standardization levels the playing field. Whether you’re a star quarterback or a swimmer at a smaller program, having clear terms makes it easier to protect your rights. Your story is the real asset. NIL isn’t just about a jersey deal or an autograph session. It’s about controlling your narrative — the way your life, your legacy, and your values are presented to the world. ​ This guidance is another reminder that athletes — like families, public figures, and estates — need to see their story as intellectual property. The athletes who win aren’t just the ones who score on the field; they’re the ones who invest in how their story is told off the field. ​ STORYSMART® Rule of Thumb: Don’t just cash a check. Build a story that grows in value over time.
By Ron Watermon October 1, 2025
At it's heart, STORYSMART® is about democratizing access to elite-level professional storytelling. Storytelling has been controlled by gatekeepers for far too long.
By Ron Watermon September 24, 2025
The Studio offers a behind-the-scenes look at the chaos of Hollywood, but there are lessons about what the industry gets right & wrong about storytelling.
By Ron Watermon September 14, 2025
Storytelling for ALL™ LinkedIn Newsletter Vol. 3
By Ron Watermon September 14, 2025
Storytelling for ALL™ LinkedIn Newsletter Vol. 2
By Ron Watermon September 14, 2025
Storytelling for ALL ™ LinkedIn Newsletter Vol. 1
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