Drazen Zigic/Shutterstock

People are becoming more divided and ill informed. In January 2024, a report by the World Economic Forum identified misinformation and disinformation as “the most severe global risk anticipated over the next two years”.

As a result, it predicted “perceptions of reality are likely to also become polarised” – and that unrest resulting from unreliable information may cause “violent protests … hate crimes … civil confrontation and terrorism”. Many people would agree that something is needed to bridge the ever-widening gaps between ourselves.

In my view, this is not just a problem of alternative sets of facts, but a failure to perceive and empathise with that which is outside of our own experiences.

While the smartphone, with its capacity to provide users with sources from across the world, can provide endless opportunity to learn about other perspectives and experiences, research suggests social media increasingly cocoons users within their own interests.

This algorithmically encouraged self-importance means we are stuck in a feedback loop – the echo chamber – where our own experiences, values and desires are seen as the norm.

In contrast, by encouraging people to imagine beyond their own experience, reading poetry can serve as an exercise in seeing things from a different perspective.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

Poetry has always been political. The writer and civil-rights activist Audre Lorde argued it produces “a revelatory distillation of experience”. In other words, by distilling aspects of an experience, poetry can reveal powerful truths about reality.

Lorde’s poem Afterimages (1981) records her memory of turning 21 in the same year that 14-year-old Emmett Till was lynched in Mississippi. The poem’s revelation is a simple one. For black Americans, coming of age means coming to terms with the constant threat of extreme racial violence.

Poetry’s success often relies upon showing people aspects of the world which they might otherwise have ignored, repressed or simply missed.

Some poetry experiments with form itself to produce this revelatory effect. Estate Fragments (2014) is a long poem written by Gavin Goodwin, exploring the Bettws council estate in Newport. It juxtaposes quotations from academic writing alongside interviews with residents – a practice referred to as “found poetry”.

Goodwin attempts to consider the effect that seemingly abstract political decision-making and discussions have on a particular place and community. Take this stanza:

Increased inequality

ups the stakes

‘People that were younger than you

were more dangerous.’

The first two lines quote Common Culture by Paul Willis (1990), a sociological study in the cultures of young people. The latter are from an interview with a resident of the Bettws estate. Together, they tell a story: national economic inequality causes people in a working-class community to fear each other.

Looking closer and looking deeper

More conventional lyric poetry can still reveal sociopolitical realities. Canadian Métis Nation writer katherena vermette’s collection North End Love Songs (2012) explores the North End in Winnipeg, Canada. In a CBC interview, vermette discussed how the local community are:

The people that get picked on [and] blamed … but what I’m trying to do in my work is to go into looking closer and looking deeper … and seeing that they’re not what they seem.

Misinformation and polarisation cause social tension, as particular groups are generalised and blamed. Vermette’s poem indians explicitly explores the devastation caused by preconceptions of peoples and places.

Red River in Winnipeg.
Teng Guan/Shutterstock

The poem recalls vermette’s brother going missing, before being found in the Red River, a powerful body of water that moves through Winnipeg. It focuses on the apathy of Winnipeg’s police service, who tell the family that there is “no sense looking”, as the man will return when “he gets bored/or broke”. The authorities come to this conclusion not through investigation, but by reducing the speaker’s brother to racist stereotypes.

This is then contrasted with what the family “finds out”. Not only has the brother drowned, but the “land floods/with dead indians”. The speaker discovers the fate of her brother is also the fate of many other Métis people in Winnipeg. This personal experience of loss comes to speak for many other loses:

indians get drunk

don’t we know it?

do stupid things

like being young

like going home alone

like walking across a frozen river

not quite frozen

Vermette links grief to struggles against systematic apathy and oppression. The poem’s sense of politics, people and place are a central part of its poetics.

Audre Lorde in 1980.
Wiki Commons, CC BY

Such explicitness means the poem meaningfully connects to important political issues – drawing attention to the startlingly high number of missing people found and suspected to be in the Red River. As such, it can also link to important grassroots initiatives like Drag the Red, which aims to “find answers about missing loved ones” which might lie in the river.

While North End Love Songs was published two years before Drag the Red’s formation, the poem and initiative are clearly formed by the same kind of traumatic, sociopolitical events.

Newsfeeds increasingly silo us into comfortable ways of thinking and perceiving. Forty years on, Lorde’s declaration that poetry “is not a luxury” takes on a whole new meaning. Now, it might be a political necessity.

Get your news from actual experts, straight to your inbox. Sign up to our daily newsletter to receive all The Conversation UK’s latest coverage of news and research, from politics and business to the arts and sciences.

Alex Hubbard is formerly affiliated with the Labour Party, and Aber Food Surplus, a community hub.