Think back to when you first heard of the term self-love  or self-care , and if your answer feels recent, or not as far back as you’d think, then you’re not alone.  While there is no exact origin, the Merriam-Webster Dictionary  notes the first known use-of self-love  or self-care  dates back to the 1950s to 1980s. It wasn’t until the modern cultural movements of the late 20th and early 21st centuries that we began to see the concepts merge with ideas of self-esteem or self-respect, and mental health awareness - eventually forming what we now call self-love. But the concept itself may go as far back as Ancient Greece, with the term “philautia” (phee-lav-tee-ah) . In Aristotelian ethics, healthy philautia was seen as a virtue and the foundation of all loves and the common good. Not to be confused with narcissism, it is the ability to accept oneself, flaws and all, in the pursuit of becoming one’s best version. This love of oneself was considered the basis for all other loves, particularly the love for others. The same echoes can be found in Taoist philosophy to the works of Persian poet Rumi. Taoism regards self-love as the practice of accepting the natural flow of self-criticism and external validation. Rumi’s wisdom too, rarely strays from the practice of self awareness as the path to inner comfort. The Washed Modern Concept of Self-Love We can all agree that self-love means loving oneself, prioritizing happiness and positivity. Yet in today’s visually saturated world, the concept is often represented through the tyranny of modern aesthetics. Think of a perfectly curated image of a marbled matcha latte, strategically paired with a poetry book in a well-lit setup. Or perhaps a bubble bath garnished with rose petals and a glass of rosé, heavily-filtered and captioned with a gentle reminder to “love yourself today”. Nothing is wrong with that - but self-love at its roots, is not beautiful. If anything, it is one of the most complex, agonizing, and ultimately rewarding philosophical concepts one has the privilege to explore. The process is slow, difficult, and oftentimes, deeply ugly.  The Ugly Truth of Self-Love It is easy to succumb to the Instagram version of self-love, but we must ask: What is it really, before it’s packaged into marketing or wellness angles? In truth, self-love demands three things that personally speaking, are far from soothing or easy: Discipline: The Relentless, Uncomfortable Choice There is a reason why the 5AM Club  or 75-hard  communities are seen as remarkable achievements. They stand in complete opposition to the common pop-culture narrative that implies self-love with ease: "Do what feels good."  True self-love often means choosing what is hard now for the benefit of the self later. This is discipline. It is the discipline to set a boundary with a loved one that you know will lead to an uncomfortable, silent week. It is the grit required to wake up early to work on a difficult goal instead of yielding to the warmth of the duvet. It is choosing the grueling honesty of a therapy session over the temporary balm of escapism. Discipline is the anti-soothing duty of consistently choosing your long-term integrity over your short-term comfort. If you can only love the self when it is being pampered, then you don't love the self—you love the self's pleasure . Forgiveness: The Agonizing Confrontation Forgiving others or self-forgiveness is perhaps one of the messiest and most demanding journeys in life. It’s the act of looking through the lens of honesty to confront past mistakes, stupid decisions, or fundamental failures, and still move toward acceptance. It is sitting with your shame or regrets, and then —with great difficulty—choosing to go. This process is emotionally raw. It demands deep self-accountability, the pain of re-examining old wounds, and the humility to accept yourself as a fallible human being.  When you do the work of forgiving the self, you are not being soothed; you are being   healed. Resistance: The Unseen, Uncurated Self The modern, commodified self-love thrives on documentation: the perfect bath must  be shared, the moment of reflection must  be posted. This makes self-love less about introspection and more about audience management. True self-love is the work you do when the lighting is terrible, when your body is sick, when your thoughts are unkind, and when the result can’t be filtered or posted for likes. It is ugly because it is private, uncurated, and without applause.  This kind of resistance requires you to detach your worth from aesthetics, and find meaning in the unpolished parts of your inner life. Yet this exact resistance elevates self-love from a consumer trend back into a philosophical virtue. Final Thoughts - To repeat,   there is absolutely nothing wrong with expressing self-love through aesthetics. But it is important to challenge, or at least reflect on, the unstripped version of it. Understand that while progress and growth may be hard and intangible goals to track, there’s a simple rule-of-thumb that you can always count on:  If your idea of self-love feels soothing and pretty, you might be doing it wrong. Real self-love is uncomfortable, imperfect, and ugly. And that’s exactly why it’s worth doing.

In 1942, a man was born who was determined not to comply but to question everything, even in the face of authority. His name was Soe Hok Gie. His presence left a mark in Indonesian history; he cemented his legacy through integrity, and his values and courage inspired the upcoming generation to become like him. He is the true representation of an Indonesian activist. But Gie was not just an activist. He was raised and lived in an intellectual household, so he absorbed and inherited his father’s love for dialectic, writing, and the pursuit of knowledge. From this household, his love for reading books was nurtured, and he stumbled upon names like Sartre, Camus, Tolstoy, and Orwell - great figures in literature and thought. Through their work, Gie shaped his framework of thinking around subjects like political philosophy and existentialism. Gie lived in the transitional era between Orde Lama  and Orde Baru , a time of instability in Indonesia’s history. He witnessed how idealism decayed in the face of power and how society was shaped through control and narrative propaganda. In this critical situation, Gie felt alienated from his peers when discussing his political stance on the state of the nation, and because of this, Gie often made time to go hiking to reflect on his life, choices, and values. Gie considered the mountain not just a place that nature provides but a moral laboratory — a process of spiritual transformation that transcends the reality consuming most of his colleagues. In this process, Gie was faced with confronting himself about his choices in life, and in the silence of the hills, Gie cemented his philosophy: “Lebih baik diasingkan daripada menyerah pada kemunafikan.”  From here, Gie’s political existentialist journey began. Gie chose to be authentic rather than consumed by power or compliance with social norms. Gie took the quiet road, thought independently, and acted alone. He did not fear alienation, because for an existentialist, living honestly according to one’s own values is nobler than social acceptance. An existentialist idea from Sartre that states, “Man is condemned to be free,”  also inspired Gie and shaped his fundamental reason for political action as an activist. As Gie said, “Hidup adalah soal keberanian, menghadapi yang tanda tanya, tanpa kita mengerti, tanpa kita bisa menawar. Terimalah dan hadapilah.”  Gie knew the consequences of his actions and that he could fail, but still acted upon them because he saw activism as an act of meaning-making. We can see the implications of this philosophy on the streets where Gie spoke out against tyranny even with danger lurking around. His philosophy gave him the courage to fight, not because he was optimistic for victory, but because it gave his life meaning. And lastly, his famous quote: “Saya percaya idealisme adalah kemewahan terakhir yang dimiliki pemuda.”  Gie saw idealism as something scarce and valuable. Gie realized that the political reality in Indonesia was full of manipulation, betrayal, and moral corruption. But as an autonomous being living within oppressive social structures and institutions, pemuda , as Gie said, is the only phase where we still have the opportunity to choose freely before being tied down by the system. Pemuda  is the only group of people with the existential freedom to choose to be honest and authentic. Gie didn’t do politics for self-interest, but to be human. We live in a time where politics is constructed as a field of transactionalism, and the youth are persuaded and encouraged to be realistic from an early age. This quote calls us to ask: do we still have the courage to be idealists — not because we are naive, but because we realize that life without idealism is cowardice? Gie chose idealism as a form of rebellion against absurdity. And that, in its most honest existential sense, is politics — a conscious choice to be human in a system that continues to force us to become machines. In this case, Gie’s political stance wasn’t born from practical strategy but from philosophical reason, from an existential ethos. His struggle wasn’t about the will to power but about existential responsibility for oneself. By holding on to his idealism, Gie turned politics into a form of personal meaning-making. He embraced politics as a space for self-expression, not as a tool of power. In his courage to write, challenge, and speak out, Gie was creating an authentic existence, one that may have been brief but illuminating. Idealism is not a luxury in the sense of ease, but rather the luxury of courage — the courage to remain honest in a world that forces us to compromise. And in this closing, I present the memoir of Soe Hok Gie when he passed away. He died doing what he loved most (hiking) on the hill, between the vast sky and the earth. Not in the lecture hall, not on the oration stage, and not amidst the cheers of the revolution. He died in silence, in depth, in honesty that cannot be polluted by the world’s compromises. It’s so poetic if we look at it: he died in the place he loved the most, and his soul can rest knowing that he lived authentically. Gie didn’t die for a flag, a party, or an ideology. He died as a man who chose to live a meaningful life, refusing to remain silent amidst hypocrisy and standing alone. He knew he could not completely change the world. But he believed that one honest voice, even if drowned, is worth more than a million fake voices being praised. And those who live after him don’t need to mourn him as he finished his role, but to ask ourselves: Have we lived authentically?

Peribahasa “hukum tajam ke bawah, tumpul ke atas” sudah tidak relevan. Kenyataannya, penegakan hukum kerap memampang komedi pilu nan absurd tentang lucunya mencari keadilan di Indonesia. Satu sisi vonis 3 bulan kurungan untuk Nenek Minah yang mencuri 3 buah kakao, di sisi lain ada vonis 2 tahun penjara dan denda Rp 50 juta subsider 1 bulan kurungan kepada Direktur PT Menara Agung Pusaka Donny Witono akibat kasus suap Bupati Hulu Sungai Tengah, Abdul Latif, sebesar Rp 3,6 miliar. Alih-alih ketidakadilan, kondisi ini lebih tepat disebut absurd. Indonesia Corruption Watch (ICW) (2016) dalam Catatan Pemantauan Perkara Korupsi yang Divonis oleh Pengadilan Selama Tahun 2015 , menyebut bahwa dari hasil pemantauannya terhadap 524 perkara korupsi dengan 564 terdakwa yang telah diputus pengadilan dari tingkat pertama hingga Peninjauan Kembali (PK) di tahun 2015, sebanyak 524 perkara korupsi, yang merugikan negara hingga Rp. 1,7 triliun, memiliki rata-rata vonis hanya 26 bulan atau 2,2 tahun penjara. Detailnya, kategori vonis berat (>10 tahun) hanya 3 orang, sedang (<4-10 tahun) 56 orang, ringan (1-4 tahun) mencapai 401 orang (71,1%), dan vonis bebas 68 orang (12,2%). Ilustrasi keabsurdan seolah menggambarkan buah kutukan Dewi Themis dari Mitologi Yunani atau Dewi Yustisia dari Mitologi Romawi, yang terhinakan karena penodaan simbolisasinya. Beban moral dari spirit hukumnya yang terkorup berakhir dengan batu ujian bobroknya peradilan di Indonesia. Simbol keadilan harus dipulihkan. Ilustrasi keabsurdan seolah menggambarkan buah kutukan Dewi Themis dari Mitologi Yunani atau Dewi Yustisia dari Mitologi Romawi, yang terhinakan karena penodaan simbolisasinya. Beban moral dari spirit hukumnya yang terkorup berakhir dengan batu ujian bobroknya peradilan di Indonesia. Simbol keadilan harus dipulihkan. Adikodrati dan Kebutaan Keliru bila berpikir bahwa simbol hanyalah soal penanda (fisik) atau petanda (konsep mental) belaka. Ferdinand de Saussure (2011) dalam karyanya Course in General Linguistics, justru melihat keduanya mampu menghasilkan dualisme dunia yang sepenuhnya konkret sekaligus konseptual di saat yang bersamaan. Struck (2004) menegaskan bahwa simbol modern mengandung bentuk representasi yang memiliki hubungan ontologis dengan referennya (bukan sekadar replikasi mekanis dunia), transformatif dan membuka ranah di luar pengalaman rasional, konkret sekaligus abstrak bahkan transenden, serta padat akan makna yang unik. Artinya, simbol menyuratkan tanda dan makna yang menghubungkan aspek-aspek abstrak dengan realitas, dan simbolisasinya mampu mendorong semangat, keyakinan, harapan, dan doa, bahkan kekerasan. Misalnya, simbolisme dalam tasbih atau kalung salib, yang bukan hanya tentang identitas keagamaan tetapi juga spirit yang memberikannya sebuah “kekuatan”. Begitu pula dengan simbol Dewi Themis dan Dewi dengan perlengkapannya seperti pedang (penegakan hukum) dan timbangan (keadilan) menambah kesan bahwa hukum itu sakral yang tidak mengenal status hingga ruang-waktu. Bahkan, penggunaan sosok dewi di era patriarkis kuno sejak era Yunani Kuno hingga Abad Pertengahan atau Renaisans di abad ke-15, seolah menyiratkan simbol “kesetaraan gender”, aspek keadilan yang didambakan para feminis di seluruh dunia saat ini. Menurut Coyle dan Ella (2024) dalam tesisnya berjudul “Lady Justice: The Goddess, the Myth, the Legal Metaphor: An Investigation Into the Justice Behind the Visual Metaphor and the Influence of Her Female Form” , dewi keadilan sebenarnya merepresentasikan inti dari konsep keadilan Justinian, yang menyatakan bahwa keadilan adalah “tujuan yang tetap dan konstan yang memberikan hak kepada setiap pria”, sedangkan feminitas dewi keadilan dieksploitasi untuk membantu metafora tersebut mengomunikasikan representasinya tentang keadilan. Sayang, sosok dewi adikodrati nan perkasa, kehilangan “kekuatannya” ketika memasuki Renaisans di abad ke-15, melalui pemasangan penutup mata sebagai simbol “objektivitas hukum”. Konon, “pencerahan” Renaisans dan aufklärung terhadap rasionalitas dan saintifik, mendorong penghakiman terhadap mistisisme secara membabi buta. Padahal, mata Themis yang tertutup, menurut kutipan dari laman hukumonline.com (2024) dalam artikel “Lambang Keadilan Indonesia, dari Themis hingga Beringin”, memiliki arti tidak ada pandangan yang membawa prasangka dan “buta” memberikan penilaian yang adil dengan hasil yang objektif. Tapi, di situlah masalahnya. Pikirkan sejenak, dewi dengan kekuatan adikodrati di dunia kuno yang mistis dipaksa menggunakan penutup mata? Kemahakuasaan nampaknya tidak akan terbatas hanya karena benda-benda fana dari manusia. Apalagi, mata Dewi Themis atau Yustisia sendiri diketahui mampu melihat masa depan. Penekanan objektivitas merusak struktur makna simbol mistisisme kuno. Akhirnya, tafsir-tafsir liar, bahkan cenderung meremehkan peran simbol tidak terhindarkan. Siapa sangka, orang akan melihat dewi keadilan dalam keadaan buta dan mengartikannya sebagai ketidakmampuan peradilan melihat kebenaran yang hakiki. Padahal, adagium “lebih baik membebaskan 1000 orang bersalah, daripada menghukum satu orang yang tidak bersalah” diterjemahkan bahwa peradilan harus terang dan jelas, menghukum secara benar dan tepat, dan semua itu hanya bisa dilakukan dengan “mata yang terbuka jelas”, layaknya kemahakuasaan Tuhan yang “All Seeing Eye”. Lagi pula, memangnya, pernah ada hakim buta memimpin persidangan di Indonesia? Mantan Ketua Hakim Mahkamah Konstitusi, Akil Mochtar, terjerumus skandal penyuapan sengketa Pilkada Kabupaten Lebak, Provinsi Banten dan kasus penyalahgunaan narkoba. Kemudian kisah bertentangan, dilaporkan hukumonline.com (2023) dalam artikel “Kasus Nenek Minah, Pembuka Fenomena Penerapan Restorative Justice”, dari kasus Nenek Minah yang mencuri 3 buah kakao seberat 3 kilogram dengan perhitungan harga Rp 2.000 kilogram hingga dijatuhi hukuman 1,15 bulan penjara dengan masa percobaan 3 bulan berdasarkan Persidangan Perkara No. 247/PID.B/2009/PN.Pwt, bukan hanya menyayat hati tapi fakta bahwa hukum tidak boleh buta. Memang, pencurian tidak dapat dibenarkan, baik secara hukum dan perdebatan moral, tapi mengurungnya karena 3 biji buah kakao seberat 3 kilogram? Itu gila dan absurd. Contoh kasus-kasus di atas adalah tamparan bagi kepongahan manusia yang percaya diri bahwa rasionalitas dan moralitas adalah puncak pencapaian manusia, terlebih ketika berusaha menggeser eksistensi adikodrati dalam kehidupannya. Padahal, hukum yang mati digerakan oleh manusia yang rapuh dan dualistis (baik dan buruk). Seolah keadilan hadir di atas meja judi atau sekadar simulasi survival in the fittest-nya Charles Darwin. Akibatnya, penegakan hukum dan keadilan berubah menjadi pekerjaan berisiko dan rentan. Transformasi simbolis dari aspek mistik menjadi materialistis menurunkan derajat simbol tersebut. Dewi milik Yunani Kuno dan Imperium Romawi, sudah usang tergantikan dengan objektivikasi kering yang konon lebih “nyata” dan “terasa”. Undang-Undang Dasar Negara Republik Indonesia (UUD NRI) Tahun 1945, misalnya. Atau, Pohon Beringin, simbolisasi hukum khas Indonesia pengganti Dewi Yustisia, sesuai usulan Saharjo, Mantan Menteri Kehakiman. Kenyataannya sama saja, beban moral penyematan simbol adikodrati kepada humanisasi simbol yang fana telah menjelma menjadi harapan palsu. Padahal, peradilan tidak boleh buta. Transformasi “keadilan yang tidak pandang bulu” menjadi “keadilan yang tidak punya pandangan”, merupakan komedi bagi mereka yang berkepentingan, dan tragedi bagi kita korban ketidakadilan absurd. Tidak tega, sesosok dewi dipaksa jatuh ke bumi dan mengenakan penutup mata dalam melihat ketidakadilan yang terjadi. Simbol terkorup semacam itu perlu alternatif sebagai jalannya. Mata dengan Segala-Nya Renaisans membongkar semua aspek-aspek mistisisme, maka modernitas bisa menjadi jalan untuk membongkar penghinaan kepada simbol hukum ini. Setidaknya, dengan melepas penutup mata yang menyelubungi pandangannya dalam melihat kebenaran sejati. Namun, bila dewa-dewi lama telah kehilangan tempatnya di panggung modernitas, maka alternatif yang lebih prinsipil dan filosofis dari tradisi lama bisa dipertimbangkan. Misalnya, “mata” sebagai simbol hukum. Simbol ini juga pernah digunakan peradaban Mesir Kuno untuk mengilustrasikan Horus maupun Ra, dewa tertinggi mereka, dan diartikan sebagai kesehatan dan perlindungan dari kejahatan. Bahkan, simbol mata masih banyak digunakan dalam konteks modern, dari jimat hingga Dolar Amerika. Dilek (2021) dalam artikelnya “Eye Symbolism and Dualism in the Ancient Near East: Mesopotamia, Egypt and Israel” , menjelaskan bahwa konsep “mata” di Timur memiliki makna yang jauh lebih luas daripada sekadar organ yang memungkinkan penglihatan pada makhluk hidup. Berasal dari Mesopotamia, Mesir, dan wilayah tetangga Israel, ia menjelaskan bahwa mata memainkan peran simbolis kunci dan dikaitkan dengan kualitas dualistik dalam keberadaan spiritual masyarakat kuno: baik atau jahat, ilahi atau jahat, protektif atau destruktif. Penggunaan simbol dalam hukum bukan hanya sekadar stempel dan estetika, tapi juga spirit dan keyakinan. Bahkan, riset Kriviņš, dkk., (2025) menyebut bahwa perilaku legal atau ilegal seseorang sangat ditentukan oleh kemampuannya untuk memahami simbol dan tanda hukum, serta kualitas stimulus itu sendiri dan informasi terkait dalam konteks sosialisasi dan komunikasi. Sekarang, bayangkan “mata” (keterbukaan, transparansi, kejujuran, pengetahuan tentang segalanya) menjadi alternatif simbol pengganti dewi yang ditutup matanya, bisa jadi penyelidikan kasus pembunuhan berencana oleh Ferdy Sambo kepada Brigadir Nofriansyah Yosua Hutabarat, akan lebih terbuka, terang, jelas, dan jujur. Dengan demikian, simbolisme mata memberikan kita sebuah pemahaman bahwa Tuhan mengawasi bagaimana manusia menjalankan keadilan di dunia. Termasuk, bagaimana kebenaran “mata” menjadi aspek fundamental untuk mencapai kesempurnaan penegakannya karena Tuhan merupakan pengawas independen langsung. Implementasi dari mata bukan hanya berasal dari kitab-kitab suci, tapi secara esensial termanifestasikan dalam nurani, khususnya kepada penegak hukum di negeri ini. Pada akhirnya, perdebatan soal simbol itu penting karena menghasilkan spirit tertentu. Namun, praktik hukum konkret jauh lebih penting diperlukan Indonesia saat ini. Misalnya, membangun ekosistem hukum yang berkeadilan, transparan, dan setara, sebagaimana amanat konstitusi pada Pasal 27 UUD NRI Tahun 1945. Penguatan regulasi dan konsekuensi terhadap seluruh penegak hukum (mereka dianggap lebih tahu hukum), pengawasan institusional dan independen yang akuntabel, dan pertanggungjawaban publik yang dapat memengaruhi kinerja institusi penegakan hukum. Demikian, pergulatan sengit antara akal-mistisisme simbolik dan falsafah keadilankomedia absurditas hukum Indonesia, berakhir secara anti-klimaks. Esai ini adalah refleksi atas ketegangan rasionalitas dan empati akan moralitas hukum di Indonesia dan dunia. Bagaimana pun, kita tidak bisa mengandalkan selalu sosok mitologi untuk meraih keadilan. Biarkan kekuatan adikodrati bekerja dalam kemisteriusannya. Adapun, kita tetap harus berjuang mencari keadilan sembari mengurus negeri ini. Oleh karena itu, masyarakat Indonesia mestinya memperjuangkan keadilan yang seharusnya diterima, tanpa mengandalkan dan menjatuhkan diri pada kekuatan simbol semata. Apalagi, dunia memang kerap tidak adil, sehingga pembiasaan terhadap ketidakadilan nampak baik, namun bila masih diperjuangkan, mengapa harus berhenti berusaha?

Prologue: The Fight Between Left vs. Right You've probably seen it on your FYP. Instantly, the internet split into two roaring armies, each convinced they were holy. This wasn't just a debate; It was a proxy war for the soul of Indonesia. On one side, you have Dewi, speaking for the establishment. Think of her as the voice defending order, stability, and the institutions that run the country. On the other, you have Ferry, the populist critic, the guy whose entire brand is built on questioning those very institutions. The “Lisan Al Gaib”, they said. But here’s the twist: the real story isn't the fight between them. It’s the brutal civil war that erupted within their own camps. Activists turned on activists, movements ate their own. And the whole thing collapsed under accusations of being "performative", which might be valid using Bi’s analysis on wokeism (Bi, 2025) We’ll dissect this phenomena and how this is deliberately engineered to keep everyone fighting the wrong battles, while the real power watch from the sidelines. Chapter 1: Left Activists vs. Right Activists At the heart of this mess is a phenomenon René Girard (1977) basically called a "copycat crisis". We want things because other people want them. In this case, that "thing" is the role of being the "true" voice for the people. When a movement can't beat its main enemy, it turns on itself. Everyone starts accusing everyone else of not being pure enough, of being a traitor. This is exactly what we saw. The main event was supposed to be rakyat vs. pemerintah. Ironically, what happens now is → activists vs. activists. The right, throws around words like “color revolution”, "DFK" or "anak abah" to paint their critics as enemies of the state. The left fires back with "buzzer 150jt" or "konflik horizontal". If we look at Girard’s theory: It's actually a predictable slugfest. But the real the plot twist, was the fight club inside the opposition. Activists suddenly became rivals in a ‘purity’ contest. They were fighting over who was the real activist. The "17+8" movement is the perfect ‘crime scene’. Influencers like Afutami were publicly crucified by their own side, accused of "performative activism"—basically FOMO, faking it for likes. It was a digital purge. Alliances shattered, critics to the movement becomes another conflict. Fighting each other becomes more addictive than fighting the system. And for the elites? It’s good news. They don't have to lift a finger; their opposition is busy tearing itself apart. Chapter 2: The Morality of the Palace vs. the Streets Why is the fighting so vicious? Because the two sides are living in completely diǕerent moral universes. Nietzsche (1887) said that there are two basic types of morality, not based on good and evil, but on power. First, you have the Master Morality. This is the code of the pro-establishment, or the people who support the palace. This morality is based on reason and universal principles. For them, "good" is anything that keeps things in order. Their sacred words are "stability" and "national unity". Anything that rocks the boat—dissent, protests, questions—is "bad." In direct opposition is Slave Morality, a code built on empathy and emotional connection to the suǕering of others. This is the code of the opposition (17+8 group), the critics, the people on the streets. Born from a deep bitterness towards the powerful. The power of the state is "evil.". The real "good" is the struggle, the fight for justice, and solidarity with the grassroots. Its sacred words are "justice", "#ACAB", “#peoplepower” Ferry-Dewi feud is a perfect example. They were bashing each other because one's virtue is the other's sin. You can't compromise when you're fighting over your definition of good and evil. Every debate becomes a holy war. Chapter 3: Both Sides of Morality Are The Same Monster Here lies the greatest irony: “As the rivalry intensifies, the rivals become more and more alike” - Girard (1977). This is mimetic rivalry. Both sides become mirror images of each other, using the exact same tactics to destroy their opponent. Both Ferry and Dewi, are masters of the same dark art: public framing. Let's look at 17+8’s camp (Slave Morality: Empathy & Emotional Connection). They amplify stories like the police brutality cases at UNISBA, while conveniently ignoring the Molotovs thrown by civilians and framing every missing person as "disappeared" by the state—often without conclusive evidence (Bram, 2025). The narrative control was so intense that it began to consume itself. A prime example is the 'pink hijab' saga, whose image became the inspiration for the 17+8 movement's pink logo. Activists like 'Salsaer' mistakenly spread the hoax that a video critical of her was an AI fake. The woman was later revealed to be a person known for her vulgar language and support for a rival political camp, and it’s not AI (Noviandi, 2025) Ironically, lots of critics to 17+8 group was immediately dismissed as the work of a paid "buzzer”. But the strategy itself was self-defeating to control the narratives. Now, look in the mirror (Master Morality: Reason & Universal Principles). Dewi and others did the exact same thing. They framed the 17+8 group (Ferry, Jerome, Salsa), as dangerous provocateurs behind potential riots. This ignores the truth that the 17+8 group may have been the very thing that kept the protests from boiling over into widespread anarchy! They have tried to stop the demonstration from becoming violent. Possibly preventing a Nepal-like scenario. This is the Girardian endgame. Both sides frame the other as a fundamental threat to the nation. They become indistinguishable in their methods. Rivalry is the issue, not morality. What’s interesting: Both sides are currently benefiting from the chaos! They all are gaining followers and influence, Nietzsche’s Will to Power is very relevant in this context. And in their obsession with power and destroying each other, they slowly become the same monster. Chapter 4: The Death of the Middle Ground: Who Gets Screwed? (Spoiler: It’s you!) While influencers rack up views, the public is the one left paying the price. The result: A nation drowning in confusion, anger, and exhaustion. The biggest casualty is people in the middle ground. People like me, or you. I personally support 17+8, but I also can acknowledge that few innocent police are being thrown molotovs, or that unknown agents might use this protest! We can acknowledge both facts and still support the movement, right? Today, it’s frustratingly hard to have middle ground opinion, when everyone keep framing each other as traitor. Yet at the same time, we have faults too. We’re too busy gatekeeping and conducting “purity tests”, rather than building grassroot movements. When you're busy arguing about whether Ferry is a villain, or whether Afutami's activism was "real", you're not paying attention to the policies that are actually screwing you over. The real enemy becomes invisible. This is where conspiracy theory comes into play: When everyone’s fighting, a good conspiracy theory offers a simple story with a clear bad guy. It's a coping mechanism for a public that has been intentionally confused and disarmed. And this happens worldwide. After the assassination on Charlie Kirk, consensus emerged from both the left and the right: blaming the Jews . The far-right screamed it was 'Zionist deep state’, while the far-left said it was because pro-Israel policies. Suddenly, the oldest conspiracy theory found new life. This script finds its local adaptation in Indonesia through figures like George Soros, MDIF, or ‘Migas’ Mafia.The plot thickens with Tempo's report, suggesting the entire movement was a scheme orchestrated by unknown subject near Prabowo (Bestari, 2025). This creates a dizzying hall of mirrors: No one can be trusted. I started to believe in conspiracies too! Conclusion: The middle ground isn’t just dead—it’s been buried, with both tribes throwing dirt on the coffin while elites write the eulogy. What’s left is a Girardian death spiral where the opposition eats itself, fueled by a Nietzschean moral war that can never be won. The system is designed to force you to pick a tribe: Master (reason), or Slave (emotion). And neither is better in Girardian’s rivalry. A divided public is a controllable one. The influencers/leaders opinion don’t matter. The public will always fight to the death for their idols no matter what, as you can see on the comment sections of Dewi and Ferry. The real tragedy is this: in a country where the loudest voices are busy destroying each other and the public is addicted to the outrage, the real power are profiting from the bloodsport. They're silent, they're winning, and they're counting on you to keep barking at the wrong person.

Being present in a world where the noise of a constantly connected life overwhelms. Everything and everyone exists like all lives inside a grand performance, a show where we are all cast as characters on this big stage. The stage provides a frame to tell a story about the self, the individual as the main character. The characters provide the self as characters in the self’s own story, just like the self becomes a character in others’ stories being told in another stage. In this drama, the self continually encounters others, all of whom are connected to the self because they are part of the same production. But if everything strips bare–no prop sets, no supporting roles, just the self under one light–does the show disappear? Is the self just a character in the story, or is the story the self? What is the self when she is just her? The silence of the empty stage and the absence of dialogue create a sense of dread where the self is confronted by the vast, empty space. At first, this appears as nihilism: the self feels small, alone, and tempted to fill the void with props, characters, or sounds to mask the emptiness. But doing so avoids the confrontation itself. Still, if this were true, the self knows that she is nothing prior to the story. For Keiji Nishitani, this silence and solitude–the void–is not about detachment from the story. It is not the self escaping from her reality. He reminds one of the inevitability of the self to encounter the question, “What am I if I am not what my parents, friends, city, education, work and more?” When this question encounters the self, the self will see that everything on the “stage” is empty but her. This is the scary part of unloading reality, which is that the self is merely alone. This emptiness, Nishitani understands, is what we know as nihilism. It is the hopelessness one feels when comparing the small size of oneself against the big stage. Naturally, many would consider filling this gap with everything they can. But this is where the self may need to reconsider. When they fill it, they avoid confronting the void, rendering a contradiction to what was even questioned at the start. This means the self rejects seeing herself as a conscious part outside of the story; rather, she waits for the story to define her. Instead, Nishitani understands that confronting the void means the self is not afraid of finding what lies beyond the story and the show. She sees herself as both in the story and as an audience observing the self playing her part. When the self withdraws from the story as the audience, it does not find an empty void, like how the stage self sees herself as smaller than the stage. The audience self sees the self and the empty stage as one: a blank of canvas that can be painted as anything. The absence of the narrative from withdrawing oneself as part of the story and the disappearance of characters creates a silence where the self meets its own ground as both the subject of the stage and the object of the audience’s observation. Rather than nihilistic emptiness, this is a transformative nothingness in which the self realises that there is no longer anything external to rely upon. The self is compelled to stand face to face with its own groundless ground. In this manner, Nishitani emphasises that this confrontation is precisely the significance of silence and solitude. In this silence, the self is exposed to absolute nothingness , which is not sheer absence but the field in which all things, including the self, arise and interconnect. The self no longer defines itself by external attachments or external and disruptive validation. The self’s identity emerges from emptiness that is full because even the absence of a thing is, in itself, part of the self. The self discovers the radical interdependence that underlies reality. Silence is, therefore, a ground that collects objects of creative observation–the finding of the self that exists between and outside the collective. In doing so, the self is able to return to the world not as a performer clinging to a role, but also as an audience looking at her role from outside the stage. True presence in the world, therefore, requires the self to confront the underlying nothingness of anything that is collected. Just as an actor cannot always remain on stage, the self is both a character of the stage and an audience observing herself on the stage. In an age of constant connectivity, this withdrawal is not an escape but a necessary passage: by passing through nothingness, the self re-emerges with clarity, compassion, and the capacity to genuinely connect with others.

When I looked at the ceiling, I realized that in a rectangular room, the light dims somewhere but shines everywhere else. Physics might have a technical explanation for this, but I like to believe that human beings are just like that light. In a world full of “unending” choices, you feel like you’re on top of the ceiling—feeling able to do anything with a wide variety of everything. To you, the whole world seems to light up instantly. But the light has to dim somewhere. In Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) , the main protagonist Evelyn, often wonders about how life would have been if she had chosen another career path. Would she have been happier, or would she have preferred managing her laundromat and tax problems, along with family issues? The decisions she had made in the past resulted in her becoming “nothing,” and she accepted that. Eventually she used the laundromat’s financial issues to keep her busy from her family. She dived into a multiverse of possibility where her life made much more sense. “I saw my life without you. It was beautiful,” she said to her husband. Human brains are always searching for ways to better themselves, and the more they dive into this, the more they feel like the universe has more control over them than they do—and this character has done it for us. Verse-jumping to those dream lives never gave her more freedom. It just gave her another reason to believe that if the possibilities are that infinite, we humans don’t matter. Here, her light was shining everywhere; but it was too bright for her to stand in it. Psychologists Sheena Iyengar and Mark Lepper’s Jam Study (2000) demonstrated a similar paradox of choice where they quadrupled the option of 6 jams to 24. 24 jams attracted 60% of shoppers, but only 3% bought them; while 6 jams attracted fewer shoppers but 30% of them were bought. Just as the buyers froze in choosing the 24 jams, Evelyn froze before the “better and more beautiful” lives she could have lived. She dimmed her own light by staying inside the regret of her past. Sometimes the more the light shines, the more we end up in paralysis and just… freeze . In this paralysis, how are we any different from a rock? The movie reminds us in the “rock universe” that every scientific discovery in the universe only makes us feel smaller and smaller. Yet, we are still burdened with the weight of past, present, and future decisions and boulders. By becoming rocks, we can desist from the weight of decisions and noise—but as humans, we are condemned to carry the weight of responsibility. One thing we forget is that it is human to regret, fail, and fear. It’s the curse that gives us meaning . Notice how humans mistake boundaries for cages. Humans do not simply cease to exist. Boundaries for existence are simply conditions to be able to feel true freedom. The universe never guarantees anything with the choices we make. Which is why Albert Camus, who wrote The Myth of Sisyphus , calls humans’ overwhelming freedom of choice in search for meaning “absurd.” Camus had never ensured happiness in the choices we make; he promised rebellion against the absurdity of living despite its lack of meaning. Although it is up to the individual to call him/herself a nihilist, each individual existence is still viewed as particular and unique. Existence forces us to decide and forces us to deal with whatever consequence we get. Unlike rocks, shaped by natural processes, humans are shaped by nature,nurture, and most importantly—themselves. Now let’s say that I actually turn into a rock. Doesn’t the light dim for me? My “options” would only be controlled by external forces. Life would be easier and emptier . This is when I feel that meaning in anything around us is absurd. Just like what Camus said, the therapist in Struggling with Meaninglessness (Vanhooren, 2019) tells his patient to directly confront absurdity. Instead of trying to solve his patient’s nihilistic crisis, he tells him to face it. Session after session, the patient concluded: T7: And that’s my purpose in life? C7: The only … [silence]. Thinking about religion; whether I die as a religious person or as an atheist …that doesn’t matter …That doesn’t matter! But being a father, being a husband, being a friend, … T8: Being yourself … C8: Being yourself …emerges by being with the other …That’s the only thing that matters. So, as a simple rock in the universe with no plan and no rules inside me, I realize that there are literally no rules at all. The dimming of light never automatically means failure. Recognizing brightness is to recognize the shadow. Therefore, the next time the choices feel heavy and scary, I’d just picture myself as the rock. The only way life matters to me is if I matter. So, as a rock, I choose to roll. I choose to roll first , wherever I want to, because I can—before the universe gives me a reason to. I don’t blame the nature that shaped me into an igneous or metamorphic rock; the point is that I roll now—and that is enough for me to call it living.

There was a moment, while looking at my phone, when I realized how it consumed me and demanded my limited awareness. This experience reflects a wider pattern in which modern information networks widen human reach (Harari 221) while placing ever-heavier demands on our focus. In this climate, choosing to step back can feel almost like a betrayal of connection itself. From that tension, I argue silence creates space where we can truly notice the world, allowing us to pause and reflect. This essay grows from that unease. By examine solitude as both withdrawal and presence, I explore it phenomenologically and consider its ethical implications for ourselves, others, and the world.  I.  Reclaiming Solitude  Withdrawal is a deliberate step back from the noise of the "they-self" (Heidegger and Stambaugh 266) and the demands of the attention economy. In doing so, it turns us toward immediate awareness and the world as it appears naturally, aligning with Husserl's concept of “returning to things themselves” (Husserl et al. 48). The quiet space opened by this step back is solitude. It is different from loneliness, which is the pain of unwanted absence, and from isolation, which is forced separation. Silence fills this space actively, like Husserl's idea of suspending judgments to see things clearly. Despite this active quality, solitude is often misunderstood as self-indulgence. Yet from a phenomenological view, it’s a way to return to the self honestly and, through that self, to the world. Before we explore from the point of view of phenomenology, I want to address a few common objections. Some people say solitude is a privilege. While not everyone has equal access to quiet spaces, I believe solitude can be cultivated in small ways within everyday life. Another says crises demand action. Yet sustainable action needs depth, discernment, and resilience, which constant urgency erodes (Baumeister et al. 1263). A third objection is that solitude breeds detachment. Chosen solitude, however, restores connection in ways that enforced isolation cannot. Solitude enables authentic engagement, whereas isolation weakens empathy and fosters alienation. These distinctions emphasize the ethical and relational differences between chosen solitude and imposed isolation. II.  Phenomenological Approach Phenomenology helps to make sense of solitude as a shift in how reality discloses itself, distinct from the idea of mere escape. Heidegger's idea of Verhaltenheit as a kind of restrained composure describes a silence that is charged. In this state, daily distractions fade, and one becomes more aware of what truly matters. This is a tuned-in state characterized as a readiness for the world to speak before we rush to interpret or exploit it. Solitude is this attunement enacted in lived time, a pause in which one can stand within (Verfallen) rather than merely react to the flux of events (Heidegger and Stambaugh 185). 2 Merleau-Ponty builds on this by insisting perception is always embodied. He names the connection between our senses and the world as "flesh of the world" (Merleau-Ponty 84) suggesting an intertwining of body and world in perception. Our digital lives often pull us away from this bodily connection. Solitude offers restoration. When we sit quietly under a tree or close our laptop simply to breathe, we re-engage the world through our body’s own rhythms, rooting perception in direct experience. This sensory recalibration renews our sense of belonging and awakens care. Husserl's epoché offers a further clue. By bracketing habitual judgments, we allow phenomena to show themselves as they are rather than as mere means to an end. Solitude can function like an epoché: by suspending the incessant practical demands of digital life, it reopens the horizon of meaning. Ordinary phenomena like a bird's call or texture of a conversation regain significance. In everyday life we usually move through the world in what Husserl calls the “natural attitude”, taking things as simply there and ready for our use (Husserl et al. 92). While Western philosophy offers valuable conceptual accounts of solitude and phenomenology helps us examine its structures, I would say this conceptual approach alone does not fully capture the lived experience of solitude. To address solitude more fully, I turn to Eastern contemplative traditions, which embody pedagogies of accessing direct experience. Practices such as walking meditation and koan training cultivate reality through the body, breath, and perception. Koans as paradoxical statements or questions help practitioners move beyond ordinary conceptual thinking and experience reality directly. These practices train awareness through direct experience (Harris 87). In this sense, solitude becomes a lived practice that trains the mind and body to engage fully with the world. This entire discussion can be stated more explicitly in a syllogistic form: P1 : Presence is a way of being fully aware of self and world. P2 : Solitude suspends distractions and habitual judgments, allowing this awareness to deepen. C : Therefore, solitude functions as a primary path to presence. This analysis links phenomenological insight directly to our practical experience of living attentively in a digitally mediated world. With this understanding, we can now explore its ethical implications. III. Ethical Implications If solitude helps us notice things more clearly, it also changes how we relate to ourselves, others, and the world. The first ethical dimension is care for the self. In a world dominated by constant notifications, time alone protects our inner life and prevents every moment from being consumed by distractions. Without these pauses, our judgments turn automatic and our words become empty echoes. Solitude, then, acts as an ethical practice, keeping the freedom to respond thoughtfully instead of reacting automatically (Colibazzi 2). The second dimension is care for others. Stepping back from the noise of constant exchange allows us to meet others without the defense of a performative persona. In the pause, empathy grows. The silence is but a preparation for the social, making possible a more patient listening and a more sustainable solidarity. In this way, chosen solitude strengthens our capacity 3 for authentic connection, while imposed isolation weakens social bonds and empathic response (Zaki and Ochsner 679). The third dimension is caring for the world. Responsibilities to nature, society, and community need focus, and regular quiet time supports this. Simply turning off the computer and stepping outside can help us slow down and restore our sense of belonging (Small and Vorgan 77). A scientist walking without a phone, or a neighbor tending a garden all show ways of living in the world with attention and care. IV. Unraveling the Paradox Stepping back from noise is the base of real presence. In solitude we pause, regain clear awareness, and meet the world through our senses as it really is. From this deeper awareness care for ourselves, others, and the world can grow. In this way, solitude becomes a simple practice of attention and belonging, helping us live present, yet apart and stay close to the world without being caught in its constant demands.

The use of the word “memory” in this article encompasses both the cultural experience and the physical media created as a result of it. “Culturally rich materials” within this article is defined as such: Culturally rich materials refer to texts, media, artworks, artifacts, or other forms of expression that embody the values, stories, traditions, identities, or intellectual contributions of a particular culture or community. These materials are typically considered valuable for understanding cultural heritage, diversity, and memory. Introduction The vast expanse of the internet, unbridled, is a microcosm of people, places, and ideas intended to be kept archived indefinitely, to be accessed, viewed, and appreciated. However, is this description truly apt for the majority of internet users? Where the act of accessing (in its most common form via subscription) can often exceed the physical equivalent, despite the digital copy being nearly always cheaper to distribute, this margin between a grounded cost of production vs the digitised reproduction has widened in the past 15 years(1,2,3). This is despite the cost of digitised products not scaling based on physical constraints. While physical ownership conferred long-term access, digital access almost always comes with time restrictions, regional limitations, and middle-company tiered payment models that further fragment availability for the consumer. The price to access (yet not longer own) has evolved from a tangible breakdown of material goods, worker pay, and profit margins to an almost entirely fabricated and top-down dictated price that, as a result of turbo-capitalism,(4, 5) must continually and exponentially increase for the sole benefit of shareholders. The monetisation of memory reflects not the cost of its preservation or production, but the speculative value extracted from its exclusivity. Cultural products, educational materials, historical archives, even personal data, each becomes an asset class. This essay does not serve as a critique of individuals and collectives that monetise their works, but rather a critique of a system that does not accommodate digital spaces to access, archive, and distribute culturally rich materials, despite having excess means to do so. The contradictions are stark: bandwidth is cheap, storage is abundant, but access is throttled. Publicly funded research sits behind academic paywalls; national cultural archives are hosted on commercial platforms; and the act of remembering once intrinsic to social cohesion is now transacted through platform logins and pay-per-view licenses. The final stages of the Mandala’s dissolution, photographed by Gerald Grow (Gerald Grow’s Home Page, “Dissolution of the Mandala,” January 2007). 1.1 Reaffirmation of existing societal dynamics. The commodification of collective memory is no longer a hypothetical concern, it’s a defining feature of the current digital environment. Access to information, culture, and history has increasingly become subject to subscription fees, licensing agreements, and platform-specific availability. Historically, processes of gentrification and restricted access to culturally rich materials have been structurally embedded within class-based systems, often constrained by the physical costs of reproduction and distribution, burdens typically borne by elites or state institutions. (6, 7) This dynamic, however, has evolved where the contemporary divide in access is less a consequence of material limitations and more a function of corporate monopolisation, where “gatekeeping” is driven by the protection of proprietary interests and potential revenue streams. This divide has facilitated the further control of an uneducated, ideologically unchallenged, and intellectually unexpressed populace. This, to varying degrees, has, and will continue to be a function of class structures. Where it's adapted, however, is what is relevant here, in that its scale and organised interest by government parties has increased. In short, a dynamic that began as a consequence of societal formation (that came with an in-built uneven distribution of resources) is no longer backed by this same degree of scarcity and logistics of material distribution that demanded its existence. Since the advent of social media, then in mass-produced short-form content in quick succession, these preestablished socio-political structures have not been dismantled by digital access; rather, they have been subtly intensified. These platforms operate within algorithmic economies that prioritise content optimised for engagement, typically short, emotionally evocative and easily consumable, over content designed without the pressure to appeal to the algorithm, that generally has the meta-existential goal of offering the consumer enrichment beyond platform engagement. As a result, this brand of short-form content, arguably problematic and undoubtedly overstimulating, circulates widely; often without the contextual framework necessary for informed engagement & discussion. Without doubt, the introduction (and rise of) the digital age has substantially aided marginalised communities globally. Broadly speaking, the greatest difference (besides that of individual economic status) can be observed in the digital landscape between the Global North and the Global South (8) “Window Poetry” by Roland & Sabrina Michaud, 1985 Figure 1: Economic classification of the world's countries and territories by the UNCTAD in 2023: the Global North  (i.e., developed countries) is highlighted in blue and the Global South  (i.e., developing countries and least developed countries) is highlighted in red. What may be a tool to empower underserved communities has thus far been monopolised primarily as a tool to extract capital in two forms. Financial capital; conducted via online platforms, a direct evolution of physical monetary transactions. Attention capital; a form of capital created from the advent of social media, used to collect and sell user data, and to influence mass opinions on global events. These two are not mutually exclusive. Despite already having viable business models, unlike (arguably) all predating economic models, modern companies require continuous growth as a baseline to survive. (9) Whereas stagnancy is vehemently opposed, even if paired with the adaptation of long-term company stability. This inevitably is challenged by reality. The reality is that traditional (i.e physical) products can only be consumed to such an extent. 1.2 Attention capitalised The population of countries in the Global North is either stagnant or in decline. (10)Though this fact can be viewed in many different perspectives. Simply, this will hurt company profits. Therefore if physical (a.k.a) traditional forms of commerce’s growth cannot be maintained (due to a declining consumer base) finding ways to adapt becomes imperative. This is where the “attention economy” as coined by Herbert A. Simon is salient for this discussion. A key quote from Simon when asked to summarise this concept was “A wealth of information creates a poverty of attention.” (11) In the era when he first described the attention economy (late 1960’s towards the early 1970’s) the forms of popular media (cable TV, radio, newspaper etc) are now unrecognisable compared to today’s pop-media. Despite this, if anything, his ideas have become more poignant over time. That being that private industry and government would assetise a populace’s attention as one would to an unrefined resource. Primarily for economic expansion, but inevitably as a tool of mass-influence. In that, as the day to day life of the average individual (6hrs and 38minutes)(12) is spent on the internet, this figure does not differentiate between those using it occupationally vs recreationally. Though, due to the innate nature of the digital landscape, the differentiation isn’t particularly important for this discussion. Hung Liu, Ladies , 2014, mixed media with resin, 60" x 92 3/4", Photo: Trillium Graphics, images courtesy of Walter Maciel Gallery. This increasing share of time spent on online interactions, and more broadly time spent within digital spaces. Further incentivising corporations and governments to capitalise digital spaces. Within this context, the framework of the digital attention economy provides a foundation for examining two interrelated dynamics: the gatekeeping of culturally rich materials and the meta-behaviours embedded within social media platforms. These dynamics not only determine how information is accessed and prioritised, but also shape the conditions under which cultural value is produced, circulated, and constrained. Algorithms must adapt to keep the user on whichever platform for as long as possible in order to extract as much capital (attention) as possible. Therefore, the content and broader activity the individual engages in doesn’t necessarily have to be enjoyable nor meaningful. These algorithmic behaviours do not occur in a vacuum. They reflect the platform's underlying design, which is built not to inform, educate, or enrich, but to retain attention and extract profit. As such, culturally rich materials whether they be digistised artworks, oral histories, scholarly texts or film are deprioritised in visibility. They exist, but often in relative obscurity. Drowned beneath a digital sediment of overstimulating content, algorithmically refined to maximise profit. The very materials most capable of fostering critical thought, cross-cultural understanding, and historical literacy are either inaccessible for most, or algorithmically invisible. What’s more, when culturally rich material does surface, it is often recontextualised to serve the engagement logic: history is reduced to trivia; political struggle to aesthetic; identity into trend. Digital algorithms do not differentiate between deep, often off-screen engagement and the quick, reactive interactions that dominate online platforms. While the Global North dominates the digital archive landscape, primarily through institutional digitisation and media. The Global South, especially in rural and low income communities, are more likely to consume content under asymmetrical conditions. These asymmetrical conditions, which are without any framework by third-parties to provide space for thoughtful engagement and discussion. This is Not a Burial, it’s a Resurrection  (2018) dir. by Lemohang Jeremiah Mosese This process, of prioritising the most “brainrotted” (13) a.k.a inflammatory content will have neurological (impaired working memory, reduced ability to engage with complex tasks) and cultural consequences. The constant influx of low-effort consumption of emotionally charged short-form content rewires an individual’s expectation of what knowledge looks and feels like. Cultural memory becomes fragmented, trivialised, and increasingly defined by sheer virality rather than sustained, enriching value. Users, particularly younger generations or those with no prior access to structured educational content, may rarely encounter meaningful content. Not due to ill will or censorship, but because such content is not profitable to prioritise. In effect, the digital economy doesn't primarily gatekeep information through absence, but rather through saturation. The user will inevitably become overwhelmed, underguided, and algorithmically nudged toward content that is optimised not for meaningful engagement, but for an almost hypnotic session of “doomscrolling” (14) aimed at the user. Herein lies the paradox: the more connected we as a society become, the more controlled our informational landscape becomes, information filtered not by relevance, observed truth, or insight, but by corporate metrics of engagement. Within this framework, the power to remember, to engage with the past, once the domain of cultural custodians, communal institutions, or educational systems has shifted squarely into the hands of corporate algorithms. In most cases, what becomes “popular” does so at the expense of meaningfulness beyond metric-maxxing. The prevailing digital ecosystem is one which is a closed loop, where users will scroll, like, and consume... but are systematically disenfranchised against creating, accessing, and engaging with meaningful content. The profitability of the model social media algorithm is unevenly distributed: digital colonialism ensures that the majority of culturally rich digital content originates from the Global North even when it references or repackages Global South realities. Communities in the Global South become not cultural contributors, instead they become data sources, scrolling, clicking, watching, but rarely curating or interacting with their own narratives. This imbalance matters. It determines whose stories are spun, how they are framed, and who gets to benefit from them. When access to media (memory) is paywalled, algorithmically obscured, or flattened into entertainment, cultural sovereignty becomes collateral damage. Unlike the physical archives of the past, digital repositories can be deleted, deplatformed or geo-blocked with incredible ease. This status quo can reframe the present digital age as not just the age of access & distribution, but equally as an age of precarity, for memory, for meaning, and for human shared experience itself. An old couple sit in their unheated living room in Vedea village, close to the southern border. Bill Clinton looks on from the TV screen. 2005 Tamas Dezso Conclusion Memory, once shared through communal archives and public institutions, is now often locked behind corporate paywalls, fragmented across proprietary ecosystems, and vulnerable to removal based on shifting business models. In this context, forgetting is no longer a passive occurrence; it can be engineered. Entire archives, articles, or cultural artefacts can disappear with a policy update, content takedown, or the closure of a hosting platform. These forms of digital erasure disproportionately affect communities without the economic or technical means to maintain their own records or challenge proprietary control. The governance structures that shape digital memory licensing, algorithmic content promotion, and opaque moderation are largely controlled by private companies. This results in a system where cultural visibility is dictated less by public value and more by profitability. What we are witnessing is not an open digital commons but a tightly controlled digital marketplace. Access is framed as convenience, but the cost is exclusion. And while some content remains available for $9.99 or more entire histories may be quietly lost or rendered inaccessible.

In 2025, in his second term as president, Donald Trump’s tariffs continue to dominate the U.S. economic landscape. What began as aggressive “America First” trade policies have now evolved into a complicated legacy, marked by revenue gains, economic disruption, and rising political animosity. Tariffs have indeed generated significant income for the U.S. Treasury. As of mid-2025, tariffs revenues accounted for roughly 5 percent of total federal revenue—- a big increase from a historical average of 1–2 percent. The Congressional Budget Office estimated that if these tariffs are maintained over the next decade, they could reduce the federal deficit by $2.8 trillion. Yet the economic-trade offs of these tariffs are steep. The Budget Lab at Yale finds that the tariffs implemented in 2025 by the U.S. have reduced U.S. real GDP growth by 0.5 percentage points per year , pushing the long-run economy into a 0.4 percent contraction— which translates into roughly $120 billion in annual economic output lost. The same analysis reveals a short-term 1.8 percent increase in consumer prices , eroding household budgets— especially those of lower-income families— by an average of $2,200 annually. These are negative effects: the poorest households experience 3 times the burden experienced by high-earning households. However, some industries have benefited also, as domestic steelmakers and certain manufacturing firms have reported modest gains, with the overall U.S. manufacturing output rising about 2 percent. Yes those improvements have been more than offset by deep losses in agriculture, advanced manufacturing, and construction, where higher input costs have stalled activity . Farmers in particular have struggled immensely from China’s retaliatory tariffs and other trading partners, forcing Washington to provide fresh rounds of subsidies. The labor market has also shown signs of strain under Trump’s tariffs. In August, the economy added just 22,000 jobs, and unemployment rose to 4.3 percent. Manufacturing, construction, and energy— the very sectors that the tariffs were meant to protect— shed jobs. Economists at the Penn Wharton Budget Model warn that, if the current policies remain in place, the U.S. could face a long-term 6-percent reduction in GDP and a 5 percent drop in wages. “Tariffs function as taxes”, the group said in an April forecast, “and they ultimately slow growth rather than accelerate it.” The legal and political battles around the tariffs implemented have only increased this uncertainty. A federal appeals court ruled that Trump had exceeded his constitutional authority by imposing tariffs under emergency powers, a case now headed towards the Supreme Court. Trump has insisted that rolling back the tariffs would end up resulting in an “economic catastrophe,” pointing to the $159 billion already raised since his second term began. Internationally, the aggressive stance on  tariffs has strained U.S. relationships with allied countries. Various countries such as Canada, Mexico, and the European Union, have all filed complaints through the World Trade Organization, while China has pursued its own countermeasures. Analysts say that global supply chains are being reshaped in response, with industries relocating manufacturing production away from both China and USA to avoid escalating trade barriers.  Trump’s defenders argue that the tariffs are forcing the overdue corrections to a global trading system they view as unfair to American workers. On the other hand, his critics counter that the tariffs policy is eroding household wealth, slowing job growth, and destabilizing international ties with other countries. Nine months into his second term, the impact is clear: the tariffs have boosted federal revenue and elevated protectionism in U.S. policy,  but at the cost of slower economic growth, higher consumer prices, and messed up international relationships. Whether this gamble strengthens the U.S. economy in the long run or leaves behind lasting damage will define Trump’s economic legacy.

Collective identity is a construct of cognitive, moral, and emotional connections shared by individuals within a broader community developed over time. Using set theory, one might model a collective identity through a Venn diagram: each individual’s set consists of values, beliefs, and experiences — which, by nature, irregularly fluctuate in priority, salience, and interpretation. The overlap of multiple intersections between individuals and groups forms collective identity. The dynamics of individuals’ sets evolve over time and communication. According to Sheldon Stryker, individuals and groups have degrees of adherence to or engagement with the values, beliefs, and experiences in our sets. We can imagine the degrees of adherence or engagement as varying fuzzy borders or hardness for our shapes (Stryker).  The evolution of collective identities is cast to fit narratives, myths, and historical interpretations. These elements — narrative, myth, and historical interpretation — offer the vocabulary by which a group defines their life, reality, and especially themselves. This essay argues that collective identities are shaped to a great extent by these elements, but not without complexity or contestation. Although narratives provide belonging and a sense of ‘consistency,’ narratives, being subjective, are selective in nature; they cannot represent the complex world as a whole and are manipulable. The relationship between collective identity and truth is thus unstable, raising the question of whether history ought to be understood as a documentation of reality or merely a reorder of memory into intelligible myths. This essay will explore the extent to which — and the mechanisms by which — narrative, myth, and historical interpretation contribute to the evolution of collective identity (White).  History is our framework of truth and reality. As Hayden White asserts, narratives mould our perceptions of reality by assigning and imposing order and meaning to past events. Narratives are components of our understanding of history; they assign roles to characters, give storylines, provide reason and meaning, and emphasise the significance of the past. Narratives and their interpretations tend to evolve over time. Narratives become tools for ideological work. As much as they explain, they also persuade. White’s theory states that whether or not a historical narrative is true is subordinate to its form; what matters more is how it is shaped and formed before the audience, and not what is told. The construction does not invalidate the identity — but it challenges the notion of an essential or unchanging cultural self (White).  Human values and beliefs are bound to the interpretations of narratives; values and beliefs outlive and cease to exist for what narratives and interpretations we acknowledge and reject. Will Durant states, “History is a vast early warning system.” History is selective and subjective, as is how significance determines memory. The idea of a singular, objective historical truth becomes increasingly fragile in this view. What survives into cultural memory is not always what was most factual, but what was most narratively powerful — what fit the moral and symbolic grammar of a given era. If history functions as a "warning system," as Durant claims, then what it warns us of is shaped by what we choose to remember and how we remember it. This selection process is ethically charged and politically implicated (Durant and Durant). By the usage of the word ‘myth,’ we often understand it through its fictional and unserious connotation. But myths have been taken seriously by generations of people and retold for the significance they held. Myths had two characteristics that affect how they were retold: mindshare and shelf-life. Mindshare refers to the degree to which a myth is collectively held, while shelf-life suggests the longevity of its cultural relevance. Both features determine a myth’s success in shaping identity. A myth like the 'American Dream' earns its shelf-life not for its alignment with the masses' material reality, but because it creates a framework of aspiration, unity, and 'faith in something.' This suggests that belonging is often constructed from shared story, ironically not shared truth. The myth’s endurance provides a sense of temporal depth — what Ricœur might call narrative time — connecting disparate generations in what may be a moral continuum (Ricœur).  As myths and historical narratives shape collective identity, one has to also consider the volatility and instability of these constructs, particularly in an age of globalisation and digital communication. Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities theory underscores the constant evolution of collective identities, particularly those of nations, which formerly only were shaped by narratives passed down through generations. The modern world introduces groups formerly marginalised or excluded from the dominant narrative as participants. Narratives that once seemed immutable can now be deconstructed and reinterpreted almost instantaneously. The emergence of counter-narratives illustrates that identity is not just something that is shared, but also contested and renegotiated in real time. In this sense, the construction of collective identity is not a static process, nor is it solely dictated by historical myths or national stories (Anderson). The very instability of collective identity in the digital age challenges the classical view of myths as enduring, unchanging forces that bind communities together. What is remembered, what is forgotten, and how these memories are mediated is now subject to constant reinterpretation. As such, we must ask: Is collective identity really formed from a singular, unified narrative, or is it instead a collection of overlapping, sometimes contradictory, stories that reflect a fragmented, postmodern world (Lyotard)?  Yet, not all collective identities are shaped solely by narrative. Material conditions, lived experience, and institutional structures also contour identity formation. Historical interpretation competes with memory, trauma, and counter-narratives that do not always conform to official myths. For example, postcolonial identities often involve tensions between imposed colonial narratives and indigenous ways of remembering. These tensions expose fractures within a community’s sense of self and raise the possibility that collective identity is always contested, rather than simply inherited (Said).  Narratives are not equal. Machiavelli understood narratives and myths pragmatically, as instruments of governance — not lies, but strategic illusions that capitalize on ignorance — crafted to unify, pacify, and legitimise power (Machiavelli). Myths especially serve power, not truth, and are more useful than factual accounts. Narratives, myths, and historical interpretations serve not only to describe identity but prescribe loyalty and instill an entity to fear. This view introduces another purpose to our sets’ elements and collective identity: instruments to serve the state [a higher power]. In stark contrast, thinkers like Ricoeur and Bhabha argue that narratives offer communities coherence, continuity, and moral imagination. This tension between myth as manipulation and myth as a source of meaning reveals that collective identity is not just remembered, but often curated in the guise of truth itself.  Collective identity is a narrative of coherence in a world of fragmentation. It serves a purpose for individuals, groups, and, customarily, the state. Myths and historical interpretations provide continuity, not because they are always true, but because they are held to be meaningful. Whether they are uniting myths or instruments of politicians, they serve to order the past in order to stabilise the future. This reflects the philosophical paradox at the heart of the question: that the very truths which bind us together may not be truths in a factual sense, but in a narrative one (Bhabha).

Mary had never seen red. In Frank Jackson's famous thought experiment, she is a great scientist who understands everything about color, including wavelengths, biological responses, and neural patterns. Nonetheless, she has lived her life in a black-and-white room. One day, she notices a crimson apple. Something shifts. It is unclear whether she gets new knowledge or merely shifts her style of knowing. The most serious concern, however, is what makes an experience real. Picture Mary staying within the boundaries of her environment, experiencing the world solely through a virtual reality headset. The simulation is vibrant, active, and immersive. She sees red. Recognition clicks into place. Is it any less real?  What if AI and VR don't blur the barrier between real and fake, but instead reveal the structure that has always defined that line?  This essay contends that AI and VR deepen our contact with reality by exposing the mechanisms through which it takes shape. To traverse this transition, we might consider how meaning, presence, and intelligibility emerge through structural coherence.  I. What is Real?  Reality has never had a single definition. For some philosophers, reality stands apart: fixed, external, untouched by perception. Others believe that reality is inextricably linked to interpretive systems such as language, perception, memory, and expectation. These viewpoints are not purely theoretical; they influence how we respond to simulation, illusion, and technological mediation.  Plato imagined perfect, immortal Forms beyond the changing world of appearances.For Aristotle, reality is rooted in action and purpose, revealed through the role each thing plays in the world. Descartes rooted reality in the thinking self while doubting everything else. Empiricists such as Locke and Hume based reality in the senses, which made knowledge susceptible to habit and error. Kant intervened: Our minds structure perception through inherited forms. Every encounter with reality arrives already refracted. Philosophers from the twentieth century exacerbated the tension. Heidegger questioned not what reality is, but how it manifests itself through care, use, and context. According to Wittgenstein, the grammar of language and shared practices shape meaning, and so reality. There is no private reality.  Then came Baudrillard. He contended that in an age of media and symbols, signs no longer point outward to fixed referents. They refer to one another. Simulation replaces representation. Hyperreality emerges. What feels genuine is determined by what coheres within the system rather than what is.  However, I must adopt a working definition. For the sake of this article, I define reality as a field of coherence: a structured realm in which meaning becomes understandable, perception stabilizes, and experience becomes actionable. The significance of something lies in its ability to structure belief, elicit response, and support interpretation. In this essay, a model is a system that determines how we perceive, feel, and comprehend the world. AI generates meaning by predicting linguistic patterns, and VR creates believable environments by mixing sensory signals.  This framework directs attention to the constructed and experienced dimensions of reality. Its concern lies with the forms through which meaning arises and actions unfold, treating the effects of reality as the basis for inquiry rather than its unseen foundation.   II. Perception and Simulation  We prefer to believe that perception shows us the world as it is. However, perception is a generative process, with gaps, shortcuts, and educated guesses. The brain makes predictions about what should be seen, heard, or felt and then fills in the gaps. To avoid blur, human eyesight turns off during rapid eye movements known as saccades. We are technically blind for over two hours each day. Nonetheless, we sense flawless continuity. The world we perceive takes the form of a narrative, assembled by the brain through delay, reconstruction, and revision.  Model acts like a mirror, shaped by the same logic we use to construct the world. It creates a simulated reality using the same reasoning that the brain does to depict the visual field. Fragmented data is assembled into presence. It holds up a mirror, and we know our reflection. Familiarity produces the tension in VR. The more it aligns with lived experience, the more it disturbs. Baudrillard's hyperreality captures this nicely. We're no longer navigating indications that indicate stability. Simulations become our settings. They feel real, they cohere, and they carry emotional weight. In this space, truth aligns with function, and power rests in what performs.  III. Language and the Structure of Meaning  Wittgenstein asserted that the boundaries of language are the limits of our universe. Reality follows language. The world arrives only after it is named. Nietzsche went on to say that truth is a forgotten metaphor, a set of illusions so firmly embedded in our discourse that we no longer recognize the fiction beneath.  AI-generated text models worry us because it reveals how language functions. It develops meaning without cognition or a referent. However, human language has always been based on shared grammar, patterns, and feedback loops, not on essence. Its power lies in resemblance. VR touches what we already know and twists it just enough to unsettle.  Even our emotions adhere to this pattern. Neuroscience demonstrates that feelings can also predict outcomes. The brain senses hunger before the stomach does. Fear arises before the danger comes, according to patterns and previous experiences. Emotion arises as a reading of future possibilities, shaped before events unfold. We feel in order to experience the world.  Meaning comes from these processes. What matters is that the sentence organizes experience and inspires response, regardless of whether it is generated by a human brain or a machine model.  IV. Consequence and Coherence  When Mary saw red, something changed. Her perception gained meaning through its alignment with a coherent system of understanding. What gave the moment significance was its coherence with a system that brought forth experience, understanding, and feeling. We encounter this kind of resonance in virtual environments, in language models, in rituals, and in dreams. They belong together through what they cause, shaping how we feel, think, and move. In quick interactions for instance, such as professional table tennis, the brain simulates several futures. Ghosts of the self prepare to act. The one who meets the situation survives. We live via the ghost that triumphs. Rooted in lived experience, these patterns of coherence extend our existing modes of being.  Some simulations pass without effect. Others leave an imprint. They shape reality through the responses they inspire. They merge with life through action and presence, becoming part of its unfolding rhythm.  V. Conclusion  The question is no longer whether an experience is real in its origin. The fundamental question is, what types of realities are being created?  Models generate experiences that influence memory, behavior, and beliefs. What grants them force is the clarity they bring: we are constructed through exposure, and mediation no longer retreats into silence. The layers are exposed. The edit trails are evident. What was once considered unmediated reality has now revealed its architecture.  The ethical difficulty is to avoid falling into yearning for unadulterated reality. The question is: what kind of resonance do we allow? What patterns of coherence do we create? What systems of truth are we willing to embrace?  Mary has left the room. So have we.  The apple glows on a screen. The voice arrives in layers of code. Still, the shift they cause is real. Reality now grows from pattern, from resonance, from the way things link and move. The objective is no longer to uphold the ancient distinctions between real and unreal. It is to create systems of resonance that are meaningful, ethical, and living.  Truth was never a static entity. And now, in this moment of exposure, we are free to rebuild.

Jacques Derrida’s concept of hauntology suggests that every system of being is haunted by what it represses. The French-Algerian philosopher proposed that every ontology is shadowed by a hauntology. He believes that what is repressed will resurface in a form that haunts that ontological system. He explains further that the ideas of Marx will always haunt capitalism. Derrida argues that somehow, through the grave, Marx’s ideas live on, even though, tangibly, communism died after the Berlin Wall fell; his ideas live on and haunt society  Mark Fisher, a British contemporary thinker and an active voice on the critique of capitalism Had his interpretation of the concept, He emphasizes the ideas of lost futures and nostalgia, how the future is now in a stagnant state, Mark focuses his ideas on arts and media and how much of pop media today is recycled and a sense of deep nostalgia is rooted in the arts industry where creative endeavours is repetitive and appreciation through originality is replaced with an appreciation of the past. Through pop culture, Fisher emphasizes the idea of a developmental future into a future of nothingness. Fisher sees stagnation that further distances society, and this is especially true in a broader psychological context, which is best represented by the emergence of depressive music. For example, the band Joy Division, as portrayed by Mark Fisher, is how their music best correlates to an emphasis on this dark and somehow lost state of the world we’re entering. how in neo-liberal times, there is less appreciation of the arts and more appreciation of capital and markets. Fisher says that historical periods return not always as nostalgia but also as trauma. He makes another example of the ever more popular jungle rave in the 70s, the dark ambient tone of dance music mirrors the deep historical melancholy of society, invoking fear. Built on market fundamentalism, society is lost with existential anxiety, best represented in the music of the late 70s underground, that even predicts the outcome of today’s society problems, such as dead-end jobs or lack of career success. a representation of a period where history and times are blurred. Perhaps we are doomed to endlessly mourn futures that will never arrive. As we all know, depression is a worldwide problem. through the eyes of Mark Fisher, I'm diving into the lens of society. I'm now going to switch the point of view to a more individual scope, through Dr. Alok Kanojia’s video on how to break the cycle of depression. He is a leading mental health YouTube content creator, a psychiatrist, and an ex-monk.  According to Dr. Alok Kanojia, depression creates this particular cognitive bias that clouds our perception and makes our lives worse. Scientifically speaking, what happens to people when they are depressed? Dr. Alok Kanojia further explains a particular moment of inciting event, this event then further impacts the individual, they will either recover or not, if unrecovered, it creates a certain cognitive bias in our perception which leads us to think that everything that's happening be it around us or even how we view the world is inherently negative, even though it might seem better than it is. psychiatrists usually treat these problems by helping individuals reframe their thinking. Techniques such as cognitive restructuring or emotional validation are common. Yet, the deeper issue lies not in external circumstances, but in perception itself. But the main problem here is not an external one, but internal; it's in our perception, our way of seeing the world. Dr. Alok Kanojia then proposed his unorthodox method to his audience by introducing mentality materiality, an exercise from an ancient Buddhist text called the Visuddhimagga, which translates to “the path of purification”. Though the name and concept feel unorthodox, it's quite a simple method: it is to view every object as it is. For instance, consider this: while writing this, I might associate coffee and a cigarette with calm and focus. Yet from a neutral lens, they are merely a cup of caffeinated liquid and a rolled piece of tobacco. This reframing reflects the core of mental materiality i'm writing this down as i drink coffee and smoke my cigarette, my mind tells me that these are good and relaxing, a way to start writing my article, and what you notice is that everything that i attach for the object is within me, it gives values individually, and if i see the object as it is, i see it as just a piece of rolled tobacco with a paper and a glass of caffeinated liquid, that's mental materiality, to see objects as it is, not inherently good or bad but neutral. Society is in a grim state, we’re entering an era of sustained expression towards a more dystopian state in neoliberalism, but I think we can reframe those thoughts and align with ourselves with the neutral perspective of Visuddhimagga Dr. Alok Kanojia’s mental materiality in Visuddhimagga is an interesting methodology on overcoming cognitive bias in depression, by seeing things as it is and not giving any value to them, and taking a neutral stance on events is an interesting suggestion for remedy. Interestingly, what psychologists call depressive realism, where depressed individuals perceive reality more rationally, resonates deeply with mental materiality, but instead of being lost in melancholy dressed as clarity, we can align ourselves more in action with this method. Mark Fisher was a deeply troubled thinker, but I think we may all assume that his thoughts reflect those of a decaying and dystopian society, the neo-liberalism hellscape in which creative expression and originality are replaced with a fleeting nostalgia and an appreciation of the past leads to a seemingly lost future. An interesting alternative perspective would be to decide that these lost futures, which Mark Fisher mentioned, are neutral and an inherent part of a process that must happen. Of course one must ask, how can we take a neutral stance in a grim state, well of course by practicing the Visuddhimagga we don't just ignore everything and turn a blind eye on society struggles, but instead of falling deep to the melancholy of an endless pit we can take the neutral stance and do what's possible for us to do, it is easier for us to take action when we don't fall deeply in the state of inaction and debilitation in depression. The possibilities of us meditating this is endless, we may view everything in a more big picture perspective and be one with change, Postmodern thinkers tend to think it is more possible to see the end of the world than the end of capitalism, i say both are possible Neutrality empowers clarity and action beyond melancholy.