the death of personal choice
As the victims of the populist agenda, humans have lost the agency to choose. Consumption has become the substitute of community and identity has become obsolete. Aren’t we tired? Aren’t we angry? Aren’t we sick of mutating our tired bodies into these boxes that were not made for human flesh? Aren’t we doing the best we can?
I don’t need to tell you, reader, as I’m sure you know very well, that the recent decade has seen a total turn of the screw as the elite parties have learnt to idealise it’s wide-eyed audience while simultaneously controlling them - us. Give the power to the people. But tell them what they want.
My heart breaks as my first clenches. It seems impossible to make any choice in my life without it seeming pre-ordained. I look in the mirror and I can see why I look the way I do. With my short, curly French bob and my plaid baby doll dress, I see the way watching Audrey Hepburn movies and listening to Googoosh at a young age impacted me. I see it in others too. The girl in my seminar with the hello kitty t-shirt or the guy who sells cheap packs of cigarettes listening to Central Cee. It should be a beautiful thing, shouldn’t it? We are expressing our own personal choices, aren’t we?
It is impossible to be original in this generation. I am a copy of her, and she was inspired by the original back in the 70s. That seems to be how everything is: fashion, music, literature, probably this essay. But, reader, do not misconstrue what I am saying. I wholeheartedly believe we are victims of this complex. The means of production (by which, I am exclusively referring to the elites) has capitalised and continues capitalising on anything with a human touch. Talented young seamstresses will sew a dress and Shein will release a cheaper copy. Writers will pour their hearts out on websites like substack, and we still find ourselves reaching for the most popular £11.99 novel at Waterstones.
Unfortunately, micro-transgressions feed into the elite’s agenda just as much as conformity. By going against the norm, you are following one of the two paths they have given you. Neither reflect personal choice. You can go down the larger path with flowers and mowed grass and your childhood best friend even though you will need to ignore the occasional child starving to death. Or you can go down a narrower path with a ‘free Palestine’ sign in your left hand and a shotgun in your right (you aren’t sure who you will meet down this dark street.) Regardless, you are walking down a path they have placed for you. It does not matter to them what you say unless it is a regurgitation of their own politics.
Through algorithms and the implementation of Artificial Intelligence in apps such as TikTok and Instagram, individuals are pushed down a path based on their engagement. Oh, you like Taylor Swift concerts? Here are outfit inspirations so you can look just like her! Oh, you like an Andrew Tate video? Here is a video of young uneducated sex workers tripping up on their words to feed into your incel delusions. Don’t forget to leave a like! The media knows what information to pump its audiences with in order to recreate the concept of choice. And it seems harmless enough until Donald Trump wins the race for president two times and your favourite fashion influencer reposts an edit of MAGA propaganda. We are what we consume.
Truth has lost all meaning and has become relative to the agenda being forced upon you. Without truth, we have no concept of choice. I hate to be this pessimistic, but I believe we need to wake up and realise that until large structural changes occur, micro-transgression only feed into the liberal snowflake stereotypes. I do not think we should give up. I implore you, in fact, to boycott and to get angry and to do whatever feels right in the moment. But, if you ever find yourself accepting the delusion that our actions reflect our free agency, you find yourself losing hope. And hope is all we have.