In the era of globalization, when vast quantities of data are readily available to all, when endless entertainment, tantilizing Twitter threads, and declassified documents are but a click away, when cat memes, satellite images, and online banking are at our eager little fingertips, it is apparently utterly impossible to learn about one specific topic: Venezuela. The ubiquitous “series of tubes” we call The Internet is ostensibly incapable of delivering information about a modern oil-rich nation of 30 million people.

If you’re confused, that’s okay; so am I.

What I’m referring to is an anecdotal series of both online and “irl” encounters I’ve had recently, after naïvely deciding to articulate my opposition to a U.S.-led coup attempt in the aforementioned Latin American country. The argument in question is quite straightforward, and goes something like this: “You don’t live in Venezuela, therefore you shouldn’t discuss it.”

Sounds strange, right? It doesn’t matter if you’re just referencing the work of journalists and scholars who have reported from Venezuela. It doesn’t matter if you’re referencing actual Venezuelan journalists and news outlets. It doesn’t matter if you’re simply attempting to give a voice to a massive grassroots political movement that is systematically ignored in Western discourse. It doesn’t matter what the content is or where it comes from. You shouldn’t be doing that. Just shut up.

As one might expect, encountering this baffling style of pushback just caused me to ask more questions. For example:

Does this notion translate to other countries as well? Or is it just Venezuela? And is the inverse true? Does sociological, historical, and geo-political knowledge seep into one’s mind simply by existing within a set of national borders? Let’s say there’s this average, red-blooded American male, and he’s lived in the “land of the free” all his life. Does his physical status as a human being living on U.S. soil certify him as a beacon of truth regarding American political and economic issues? Keep in mind, this Man’s Man has been consuming a steady diet of Fox News for decades. And, if you want an exteme version of this analogy, imagine asking a dedicated Trump supporter (who “lives in America”) what the main problems with the U.S. are. Does this gentleman’s “life experience” qualify him more than, say, American journalists? Or are his views only superior when the work of American journalists is being cited by those living outside of the U.S.?

Or, let’s say some American students are learning about, I don’t know, the Iraq War. Let’s say the professor mentions how the U.S.-led invasion and occupation was justified using fabricated intelligence, resulted in hundreds of thousands of civilian deaths, cost American taxpayers more than $2 trillion, and led to the formation of ISIS. One of the students then shares said information with a friend, and the friend says, “But you’re not from Iraq. I know someone that lived in Iraq, and [insert vaguely condescending, pro-imperialist sentiment].” Does this make a lick of sense? Is it really impossible to transfer reliable information across oceans and borders in the Year of Our Lord 2019?

And why doesn’t this argument apply to those regurgitating U.S. government talking points? You know, people who post pro-coup articles and “news” published by the likes of the New York Times and the Washington Post? Why are these jolly white Americans not told to shut up and stop talking about a country they don’t live in? The likely answer says a lot about how exactly we in the West define “the Venezuelan people” and what we mean by “Venezuelan civil society.”