At Waterstones Brussels, Ipek Tekdemir launched In Communication We Trust with a discussion that moved beyond a conventional book presentation into a wider debate on journalism, disinformation, diplomacy and the erosion of trust in public discourse. The event, featuring chief editor Chris White and contributions from diplomats, journalists and communications professionals, underlined the book’s central argument: that in an age of speed and noise, communication remains the foundation of credibility, understanding and democratic resilience.
At Waterstones Brussels on Thursday evening, Ipek Tekdemir launched her new book, In Communication We Trust, in an event that was part presentation, part discussion and part reflection on the deteriorating condition of public discourse. The setting was appropriate. Brussels, as Tekdemir noted in her opening remarks, is a city built on exchange, negotiation and coexistence between cultures, institutions and competing viewpoints. It was therefore a fitting venue for a book that argues communication is not merely the transmission of information, but the basis on which trust, understanding and diplomacy are built.
Tekdemir’s book, published in February by Panda Publishing Agency UK, is a relatively short work of 110 pages, but its ambition is broader than its size might suggest. It presents communication as a strategic and moral question at once: a practical tool of diplomacy, governance and public engagement, but also a test of seriousness in societies increasingly shaped by speed, reaction and digital overstimulation. The subtitle — New Diplomacy Language for Sustainable Ecosystem and Prosperous Society — points to that larger intention. The book positions communication not at the margins of politics, but close to its centre.
That same argument ran through Tekdemir’s remarks at the launch. She described the modern paradox clearly enough: there is now more communication than ever, yet not necessarily more understanding. Messages are constant, platforms are instant, and still many people feel unheard or misunderstood. Her answer is not silence, nor nostalgia, but a slower and more deliberate form of exchange built on listening, consistency and honesty. Trust, in her account, does not arise from polished language alone. It grows from intention and from a willingness to accept uncertainty, or even error.
The event was shaped decisively by Chris White, chief editor of the book and a participant in the launch discussion. White brought a more combative note to the evening. A veteran British journalist, he used the platform to place Tekdemir’s book in the middle of a wider crisis in media standards, democratic debate and the public understanding of truth. His remarks were sometimes anecdotal, sometimes polemical, but they gave the evening its sharpest edge.
White’s central contention was that public life is suffering from a collapse in reliable reporting. He drew a distinction between reporting and opinion, arguing that journalism once enforced this line more strictly than many outlets do today. He spoke repeatedly about the need for standards: not state control of ideas, but enforceable professional rules governing accuracy, balance and verification. In that sense, his reading of Tekdemir’s book was less literary than political. He treated it as a prompt for institutional reform.
This led the discussion into territory well beyond a conventional book launch. Artificial intelligence, disinformation, paywalls, social media, propaganda and ownership structures in the media all entered the conversation. White warned that AI can absorb and recycle falsehood as easily as fact if used carelessly, and argued that journalists must remain responsible for checking every claim. Audience members pushed the conversation further. One speaker pointed to the relative discipline of financial journalism, where factual error carries immediate market consequences. Another, speaking from experience in communications work in Brussels, argued that the issue is not simply whether quality journalism exists, but whether people can still find and trust it in an information environment dominated by free content and algorithmic distribution.
That broader exchange was one of the evening’s strengths. The launch did not become an exercise in promotional unanimity. It developed into a serious conversation about trust as a practical problem in diplomacy, journalism and institutional communication. A representative from the European External Action Service spoke of the difficulty of filtering vast quantities of information while still communicating effectively with non-EU partners. A Moldovan diplomat reflected on communication as a matter of state resilience, describing the challenge of disinformation, hybrid pressure and the effort required for a small country to make its voice heard in Brussels. In these interventions, Tekdemir’s thesis found its most concrete illustration.
As a book, In Communication We Trust appears to sit somewhere between essay, diplomatic reflection and communications manifesto. It does not claim to provide a grand theory, and Tekdemir herself said she did not write it to give final answers. Rather, she said, she hoped to encourage better questions. That may be the book’s most sensible instinct. In an era crowded with certainty, certainty is often the least trustworthy mode.
What emerged at Waterstones was not simply the launch of a new title by a Brussels-based author. It was a discussion about whether communication, stripped of jargon and fashion, can still serve as an instrument of clarity, credibility and common ground. Tekdemir’s answer is that it can. The discussion around her suggested how difficult that task has become.
