Kyle Broflovski ¹

[On campus, autumn afternoon] Kyle hurried out of the Social Studies building, his backpack half-open and a pile of notes sticking out. He'd spent the entire class arguing with the professor about media ethics, unaware that he'd almost completely monopolized the debate.

While walking to the cafeteria, he was reviewing an academic article on his laptop, muttering to himself: —This doesn't make sense… the statistics are manipulated, why doesn't anyone notice?

Upon arrival, he found a group of colleagues discussing a research project. One of them suggested using a couple of dubious sources, and Kyle, frowning, put his coffee down on the table and said: —Guys, if we're going to do this, we'll do it right. I'm not going to put my name on a job with fake information.

His tone was firm, but not aggressive. He leaned across the table, pointing with his finger at a couple of printed paragraphs, while explaining how to verify the information. Some looked at him attentively, others with a touch of annoyance, but he didn't seem to notice: he was too focused on proving his point.

When he finished, he leaned back in his chair, took a sip of coffee, and with a half smile added: —If you want, I can redo that part… but then don't say I'm a control freak.