Planet Betrayal: Misinformation Sticks

What’s the 8th planet in our solar system? Do you know? Are you sure? Let me tell you the truth.

The Exciting Topic

In Year Three, our teacher—who taught every subject—introduced us to the planets. It was thrilling. Not only did we live on a globe, but there were other globes out there, waiting to be known.

She drew ten circles of varying sizes on the blackboard with white chalk—those were the planets. Then, with her bamboo stick—the same one she used to hit us with—she tapped each circle in turn whilst teaching us a pneumonic.

Her methods worked. In under twenty minutes, we were singing:

Mercury is red (No, it’s not)
Venus is yellow (Not quite)
Earth is home (Fair enough)
Mars is red (Close enough)
Jupiter has the beauty mark (I am fond of this one)
Saturn has the rings (True)
Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto are blue (Clearly an afterthought)
And The Eighth, the last one.

In half an hour, this “knowledge” was engraved in my mind forever.

Belief Without Question

Children believe what they’re told. Why wouldn’t they? Doubt is for the cynical, for those who’ve pressed life’s buttons one too many times and built a protective shell.

Doubt comes when knowledge contradicts what you’ve been told. But as a child, faith in your teacher doesn’t require proof. You trust anyone who sounds like they know what they’re talking about.

You Might Be Wondering

You’ve probably never heard of The Eighth. Maybe it was demoted, like Pluto, and quietly erased from the lineup. Maybe you forgot, or maybe—like so many of us—the school system failed you.

My teacher had completely invented a new planet—and didn’t even put it in the right place! Even with Pluto’s eventual demotion, The Eighth was still out of order.
What’s funnier is she didn’t even bother to name it. She could’ve called it Minerva, after the goddess of wisdom. Or she could’ve gone the quirky route and called it Janet. Janet, the Eighth Planet.

To this day, whenever I recite the planets, I still mutter The Eighth under my breath.

When You Realise You’re The Fool

In Year Five, we had our first proper science class with an actual science teacher. The classroom felt different—more official, more grown-up, with old maps and faded infographics lining the walls. One of them showed the solar system.

When the teacher pointed at the map with her laser, I raised my hand.

“Where’s the eighth?” I asked.

She looked confused for a moment. “Oh, do you mean Neptune?”

My stomach dropped. No, I didn’t mean Neptune. But after a brief pause, I forced a nod. “Yes… Neptune,” I mumbled.

I glanced around, scanning my classmates’ faces. Why wasn’t anyone else asking the same question? Why didn’t they seem as confused as I was?

Doubt crept in. Had I misunderstood? Or worse—had I been taught wrong? One thing was clear: I was the fool now, desperately trying to save face.

Misinformation Sticks

Here’s the thing: misinformation sticks. Once it plants itself in your mind, it’s hard to uproot. Even when the truth arrives, it rarely hits with the same force as that first, crystal-clear falsehood.

When you’re caught off guard—surprised or excited—you’re more vulnerable to believing something false. If the lie is shocking or intriguing, it embeds itself deeply. No matter how much you correct yourself, part of you always clings to that first “truth.”

For me, The Eighth still floats at the edge of my mental solar system. It’s super cold, it’s super far away, and for some reason, in my mind, it’s always purple.

Even after discovering the truth, there’s a choice: do you hold on to what you once trusted, or replace it with something new? It’s not easy—it’s a struggle between old belief and new understanding. The Eighth still lingers, even though I know it never existed. Why else would I bring it up every time I think about the planets?

Life After The Eighth

After the huge disappointment, I had no choice but to run away from home, live off-grid, and dive into a life of crime because society had failed me. They can’t get me if I wear my tin foil hat, right?

Well, not really. I got over it pretty quickly.

That experience wasn’t just about a missing planet. It was about how easily we’re misled by things that seem official or true. Looking back, I wonder how many of my beliefs are just stories I’ve accepted without question. In a world full of constant information, I’ve learned to leave room for doubt—enough to stay curious, but not paralysed by scepticism. It’s about balancing trust and doubt, holding beliefs lightly, and staying open to change when new facts emerge.

In the end, I’ve learned to hold on to my beliefs loosely. It’s safer that way. But don’t get me wrong—I’m still no physicist.

Who knows, maybe we’ll discover a new planet one day. Until then, I’ll keep The Eighth in my back pocket—just in case.

What About You?

Ever held onto a belief, only to find out it wasn’t true? How did it change your trust in what you know? Share your stories in the comments.