When I was little, maybe ten or so, the law in my neighborhood changed so that every person under the age of 18 had to ride a helmet when riding a bicycle. My parents already made me wear a helmet, so the law didn't make much difference to me.
One day as I was biking around the park, a man with a notebook stopped me. He said he was a reporter and asked me what I thought about the new helmet law. I tried to use the most adult-sounding language I knew, and spoke to what I assumed was the adult point of view: I said it was a good law and it was a lot safer.
When the article came out in the paper a couple days later, I read through it to see if he'd quoted me, but he hadn't. In fact, he hadn't quoted anyone who thought the law was a good idea. The article was written to the people who didn't like the new law.
I kicked myself for a few minutes, wondering why I'd said what I thought he wanted to hear. "I should've just given him my real opinion," I thought. But then when I contemplated it further, I realized I had given him my real opinion: I did think helmets were safer, and it was a good law.
Having asserted my opinion to myself, I thus concluded that everyone quoted in the article was ignorant (yes, I know that's an arrogant conclusion--I was young, what can I say?), then continued on with my life.