Transcendental Titans

Revolt Against Modernity

Category: society

The Not So Radical Right

As 2022 comes to a close, we can look back on a year replete with good tidings for our movement. The seemingly total grip our overlords exerted via their control of the narrative has been shattered utterly. Their corruption has been irrefutably exposed to the masses, from the futility, wastefulness, and mendacity of the Covid-19 response to the deep state’s efforts to subvert the public discourse through bribes to social media giants. As we enter 2023, it seems that there are now more dissidents than ever and that there is an undeniable human tidal wave of those opposed to the global order and its machinations. Yet while many good things have come from 2022, there is one fatal error that must be fully corrected; one massive erroneous conflation that could spell disaster for us. We have fallen into the belief that exposing and destroying the regime will automatically save our people. We have naively bought into the idea that the more truth tellers we have, the healthier our people will become. To follow this logic is to pursue a lie.  

It is of course necessary to destroy the apparatus of a corrupt and suicidal liberal hegemonic order. Yet we must understand that we are not first and foremost ‘dissidents’ because we oppose any specific policy of our governments, but because we are advocates for the continued existence of our people. At this point, only the most ardent fanatics and the most degenerated sycophants are in full support of the programme the globalists are attempting to unleash onto the world. Whether it’s climate change, Covid-19 tyranny, the rise of ‘equity’, BLM, or trans-rights, talk to almost anyone long enough and they will express a heresy on at least one of these topics. We live in societies populated by those who have been declared dissident and transgressive without ever having expressed radical opinions; the elite has gone drastically away from the masses, propped up by an ever smaller and smaller segment of the population. As material conditions decline, their support, as well as their ability to implement their demented policies, will evaporate completely.

In a world where almost everyone is a dissident of some kind, waiting for the death knell of a senile and tired ideology, the description is meaningless. It is true we may share common ground with many of those now forced into opposition to the government by its extreme social engineering, but these bonds are nevertheless too weak to form a coherent movement. Our task is not simply to stymy the existing order, but to be the vanguard that offers a new vision of the world, one which leads to the revival and flourishing of our people once again. While the big tent approach is alluring, it is ultimately doomed to failure. We have seen this in the aftermath of Charlottesville where the tentative bonds that held a coalition of disparate dissidents together were too brittle to withstand the lawfare and media recriminations, scattering the ‘Alt Right’ to the winds.

In its place we have seen the proliferation of Conservative Inc. shills, infotainment streamers grifting daily by offering turgid analysis of the news, manosphere buffoons, and Christians papering over the differences of their ragtag audiences with pop theology. While it could be said all of these group’s chip away at the legitimacy of the regime, none of them will save our race. Increasingly, the front men of these circus operations are not even from our race to begin with. This white nationalism without whites has capitalised on the growing audience of state mandated do-nothing dissidents seeking out performative critiques of the regime, without confronting and telling the whole truth on the biggest issue facing us: demographic replacement. If we are unable to push this issue to the fore, the regime very well may fall, but what will replace it will by a third world coalition of cranks, not a revived and revitalised European people.

If we accept that our spokesmen are to be Hispanic Christian nationalists and black rappers, with their message propagated by alt-lite orbiters and mixed-race streamers then we have already lost. If we cannot stop The Great Replacement even within our own movement, we have no chance of reversing it in the wider world. The alure of the easy downward path will always be too much for some. At the Battle of Hastings in 1066 when victory seemed assured, many of King Harold’s loyal Anglo-Saxon thanes foolishly abandoned the high ground they occupied to chase the supposedly fleeing Norman invaders, blinded by the prospect that total victory was at hand. By being baited to abandon their elevated position atop the hill, they were thus destroyed, and both the battle and kingdom was lost. I am therefore planting my banner deep into the soil of this hill I am prepared to die on and stating plainly: this must be a movement for us, by us. Salvation will not come from without but must be stoked from within. We must not abandon our high ground to chase the prospect of easy victory in the valley below. We must instead take the much more difficult and time-consuming higher path.

We are not simply engaged in destroying the existing order. We are dedicated to the uncompromising goal of reorientating and rebuilding our people and our society. Our task is much more arduous than that of simple demolition. Each of us is a beacon, broadcasting into the darkness, attempting to make contact with those of our people who are open to our message. We have changed our frame of reference and view ourselves as part of a collectivist struggle. The wealth, and the skills we garner are no longer just for our private use and entertainment but strengthen our whole tribe. While an increasing number of grifters think they can make comfortable careers by draining the limited resources of our collective war chest, we hunters and gatherers labour tirelessly to make our movement more prosperous, stronger, and more educated.

Our metaphysical belief in the revival of our people and our civilization is the concrete foundation that allows us to withstand the chaos of a collapsing world. The weak willed nominally on our side who focus only on purely frivolous political issues will ultimately be swept away. We must always privilege quality and practice discernment and discrimination. If we are truly Evolian, if we are really right-wing in the best sense of that term, quality always trumps quantity. If I must hold the hill alone, I will do so as Spengler’s last Roman, watching those who abandon it to chase the phantom of an easy remaking of the world be destroyed in the melee below. But I do not think I will fight on alone, because each awakened member of our race who accepts the higher path into their heart is another shoulder bracing the great shield wall beside me.

Our victory requires a total mobilisation of white society, young and old, male, and female. In the great titanic struggles of history, it is not absolute numbers that make the difference, but zeal of those engaged in the struggle. We must harden our hearts now and act as ideological commissars, giving the order that there should be not one step back. It is not optimism that is cowardice, but compromise. Those who minimise the gravity of our situation, and the defeatists who say it is too late must both be purged as disloyal to the cause. We are engaged in an existential battle for survival, and we are losing. The last Confederate statue has been removed from Richmond, Virginia and the most recent UK census data reaffirms what we already know by looking at our towns and cities.

The situation can be reversed however, we have just enough time. The lesson of 2022 is that the prison guards watching the panopticon of our race’s collective thoughts have left the building; the white race’s mental prison no longer is under armed guard. Now is our chance to storm the Bastille, to turn the cracks in the walls of the narrative into huge breaches, through which we will liberate our people from their mental enslavement. The clowns and grifters who are adjacent to our struggle but can never fully participate in it have their uses, they are distracting the establishment and providing us the ability to organise. We must ensure however that they are subservient to our interests, not the other way around.

We must clearly understand now that their mission is not our mission. We are engaged in forging the nucleus of a new intellectual and political elite to shepherd our people away from the wolves and the hyenas confronting us. In a chaotic world of false friends and shifting alliances, I identify my kinsmen in this struggle not simply by what they say, but also who they are. Our circle may be smaller because of this, but it ultimately will be stronger, strong enough to hold our hill against all comers, to not only withstand the storm, but to ride out after it blows over and to reforge a new and vital world from the ruins of the old one.

While those of the not so radical right disgraced themselves by casting their lot in with the jesters and freaks rushing to their demise, we true bannermen of our race shall occupy the high ground with the king, elevating ourselves ever more, closing the celestial distance between ourselves and our ancestors in the heavens. Undoubtedly the regime will continue to weaken in 2023, but we must labour every day to ensure that rather than it replacing us, we shall instead replace it. This year is ours for the taking, we must only be true to ourselves and our principles. I invite all true patriots to lock their shield with mine and drive our enemies from the field. A few good men beats numbers.

The Death of the Tactile World

Many theories have been posited as the cause of the decline of the Western world, from demographic disaster and dysgenics to spiritual malaise and the death of Christianity. Yet while these phenomena are symptoms of our collapsing societies, they do not fully explain why we have embarked on our wholesale self-destruction. Could it be that we have let our world descend into rack and ruin, because we simply do not live there anymore? For the vast majority of the developed world cyberspace has supplanted reality. The metaverse is not a dystopian corporate dream, but in fact already a daily lived reality, one more powerful than the physical, tactile world we inhabit. Our Twitter feed, our Instagram followers, our bespoke media bubble, and big business algorithms are the dominant pillars of the modern psyche.

The observation that the internet has fuelled political polarisation is not a novel one, and it is easy to chart the acceleration of societal fragmentation in tandem with the rise of the smart phone and the app economy. We are engaged in an unprecedented psycho-technological experiment, with the levers of control firmly in the hands of a small unaccountable digital elite. They have perfected the art of manipulating human emotions, presenting the atypical as typical, magnifying outrage when needed, and minimising it when inconvenient. They have succeeded in quite literally rewiring the human brain, turning us into dopamine addicts. It is now being observed that IQ is declining because attention spans have been so severely impaired by the ever more sensational demands for our fleeting attention in cyberspace. Each iteration of the digital experiment has distilled the essence of manipulation into a finer and finer art. We have been seduced to abandon the real world for the pleasures of the simulated one.

It is hard to overstate the magnitude of this transformation not only on political discourse, but on society as a whole. Our lives have taken on a hollow, performative aspect as we do things not for ourselves, but to document them for others. Undoubtedly, the rise of China and its flood of cheap plastic products in part owes to the fact we no longer care about the quality of things we own in the real world; they serve only as utilitarian ends to allow us to get back online. We are now spending more time alone than ever, living vicariously through the parasocial relationships with our favourite streamers, podcasters, and content creators. Even when we are not alone technology has provided ample opportunities for us to atomise ourselves. When we travel on crowded public transport populated by alien and dysfunctional people, we can simply put our Air Pods in to ignore this inconvenient truth.

The end result of this constant diet of media consumption is mass passivity. We no longer live in the society of the spectacle because there is no coherent external society to identify with anymore. We live a totally atomised experience, in which the only choice we are granted is to select our next media hit to consume from an ever-changing smorgasbord of Netflix shows, microtransaction riddled video games, vacuous YouTube and Facebook videos and Onlyfans pornography. All anti-system political ideologies have been neutered by this process which replaces action with infotainment, while the new puppet masters of Plato’s cave hide our activities from the public through algorithmic manipulation.

Both mainstream and dissident commentators have largely failed to conceptualise this total sea change in the human experience and have no viable response to it. Crude primitivist critiques which implore that we should do away with technology and return to a purer state of nature will ultimately find no purchase. No technological innovation once unleashed has been willingly relinquished in human history; the genie will not be put back in the bottle. The traditionalist gurus who advocated total disengagement and a retreat to the land largely just ended up tweeting their nostrums with slower internet connections.

We are not in any case, fundamentally engaged in a battle with technology itself. Though the wisdom of a total reliance on devices dependent on rare earth minerals and increasingly scare semiconductors may be questioned, technology in itself is value neutral. It is the use it is put to that is paramount. We are ultimately involved in a struggle for the direction of our collective imagination, and this battle is not new, but in fact a perennial one.

Humans have always created other realms of dreams and hopes, that manifest themselves only partially in the real and physical world. When an illiterate medieval peasant gazed upon a stained-glass cathedral window he was transported to another divine plane, beyond the strictly temporal. For much of human history novels and letters served to externalise our waking dreams; to birth a collective consciousness that could persist beyond the span of a human life. Before the advent of the internet, cinema and television served the function of this other world, not at all reflecting reality but instead creating an alternative one which informed the physical world.

Yet all these technologies have suffered the same fate, to be corrupted and rendered ultimately spiritually sickening by the ruthless application of liberal and egalitarian values. When a technology has intellectual, ethnic, and economic barriers to its use it is a spiritually vitalising force. Writing bolstered us when it was the preserve of the learned class, the tool of monks and philosophers. In its infancy, television was predicated on the belief that it could be used to elevate the masses, through documentaries and informed discussions. It is not accidental that the first blockbuster movie, The Birth of a Nation, was a race-affirming inegalitarian exhortation. The early internet was the preserve of economic and intellectual elites, the finest Western minds of the time. There was a meritocracy in its limited usership, who were driven to push the technology to expand our consciousness and realise our dreams.

Paradoxically, when technologies are democratised, they necessarily become less free and are determined by the worst, rather than the best elements of society. It is not the case therefore that the internet has ruined society, but rather that liberal egalitarianism has destroyed the internet, in the same fashion it polluted and ultimately destroyed our connection to the tactile world. The internet was created as an escape pod, a promise for unfettered communication and communal dreaming for those disaffected by our already collapsing real world. Our white flight to cyberspace has sadly now come to an end, as the third worlding of the internet takes place, presided over by megacorporations hellbent on monetising, censoring, and narrative control.

Our response to this must be two-fold. Firstly, we must re-engage with the tactile world and break free of the pernicious and all-consuming hypnosis of an alien-controlled internet. We must take ownership of our own lives, and reimbue ourselves with a Heideggerian sense of authenticity, no longer performatively living for others, but living purely for ourselves and our people. At the present time, doing things in the real world is a revolutionary act. Yet it is unrealistic to expect we will simply unplug ourselves from the digital matrix completely however, especially as more and more functions of the real world become centralised there. We must then instead change our approach to the digital second world.

Despite all its corruptions and flaws, the internet still provides us with an incredible opportunity to network with the best of our people. We must reach out to other like-minded individuals and continue to keep the dream of our people alive. Together we can stoke our Faustian imagination and keep it burning bright, working towards the next great technology that will enable yet bigger dreams for us. This time, we must safeguard it against the encroachment of egalitarianism and debasing liberalisation. We must work together to imagine a future for us, by us, which complements rather than replaces our natural, tactile world.

The Long Winter of Liberty

You are much less free than you used to be just a few short years ago – this an irrefutable fact. Almost daily in 2020 and 2021 we have witnessed scenes of tyranny and repression which we would have not thought previously possible in modern Western states. We have looked on as Australian construction workers were riddled with rubber bullets as they rallied for their right to work without vaccine passes. We have watched tens of thousands of medical workers who were previously vaunted as ‘heroes’ thrown out of their jobs because they did not comply with vaccine mandates. We have had front row seats to the creation of a two-tiered system in Austria, Germany, and New Zealand in which the vaccinated have more rights than the unvaccinated. But this attack on our freedoms goes far beyond COVID-19 and the issue of medical liberty. We are the unwitting victims of an orchestrated and wholesale effort to roll back all our existing rights organised by a malevolent and highly co-ordinated global elite.

It is no coincidence that as the pandemic raged on, world leaders dedicated weeks to the COP26 UN Climate Change Conference in which they aimed ultimately to dictate the food you can eat, the vehicle you can drive, and how you can heat and power your own home. At the same time, the gubernatorial race in the state of Virginia was narrowly decided in favour of the continued right of parents to choose what is taught to their children, as voters rejected the state mandated imposition of critical race theory in Virginia’s schools. Though the battle in that instance may have been won, the war for parental choice is by no means over. Even more concerning is the fact that two of the most fundamental rights of all were recently placed on trial in the US – the right to self-defence in the Kyle Rittenhouse case, and the right to assemble and legally protest in the Charlottesville civil case. Regardless of the outcome of these cases, through media and legal intimidation our overlords have done their utmost to give Lady Liberty a black eye.

Some may say that our freedoms are always under threat; that governments continually test the limits of power and that this contestation is a natural and healthy part of the democratic process. Yet it is difficult to dispel the impression that there has been a sudden and paradigmatic shift in the nature of the social contract which has been in place since end of the Second World War. Of course, our freedoms have never been absolute but rather contingent and negotiated. For example, citizens of Western countries implicitly traded away their free speech rights on topics such as immigration and demographics in exchange for material comfort and laissez-faire governance. Yet the COVID era has torn up the unspoken status quo arrangement, while creating a template for ostracising those who object. As British conservative commentator Peter Hitchens has pointed out, the pejorative use of the labels such as ‘science denier’ and ‘climate change denier’ are an explicit effort to weaponize the perceived moral infirmity of Holocaust denial against those who dare to espouse anti-system views.

Undoubtedly, at COP26 and beyond governments are feverishly devising new categories of ‘deniers’ as they seek to forge ahead with their total reshaping of human society. It must be understood that our elites are not simply enacting a political or economic programme, they are the acolytes in the cult of modernity attempting to bring about a complete metaphysical revolution. Their vision of the future is one of atomised human beings who have no a priori characteristics. No national allegiance, no race, no family, and no gender. If our present leaders are not stopped, there will be no aspect of human life that will be untouched, and not a single freedom left unmolested. When we understand the totality of our enemies plans for us, it is all the more distressing that many on the right have unwittingly helped them advance their agenda by fundamentally misunderstanding the dissident right’s relationship with freedom.

Faced with overwhelming tyranny on all fronts, some commentators on the right have chosen to side with their oppressors and fetishize authoritarianism as an end in itself. “If only we welded people in their apartments, as China did”, they lament, “this crisis would already be over.” This line of reasoning is founded on the misguided notion that our current predicament can be counteracted by more totalitarianism and statism, not less. This may seem quite an incredible position to advocate, but it stems from two related and incorrect assumptions. Firstly, that this crisis is an epidemiological phenomenon, and not a piece of political theatre. COVID-19 is indeed real, but it is being used as a pretext and a template for radical societal changes. Secondly, those advocating for more central authority and statism believe on some level that they, or people with their values, will one day wield that power. They fantasise that a government with the true citizen’s interests at heart could sweep to power, and the pendulum will swing in our favour. They dream of a world in which all the massive machinery of government will be at our disposal, so that we can use it to remake society. Comforting though this thought may be to some, it will not happen.

It will not happen because we are not opposing merely a national government, but a globe spanning system which has locked itself into a death spiral. Every institution is corroded beyond repair, all political systems are gerrymandered beyond victory. Even when candidates who have a small modicum of sympathy to a part of our political agenda do achieve high office, they are rendered completely impotent by the deep state and the shadow government which subverts and sabotages all their carefully laid plans. This is distressing for collectivists to hear, and the charge no doubt will be laid that individual liberty is no basis on which to fight back against the organised and co-ordinated efforts of our enemies.

This is partially correct, but the question of whether the dissident right is fundamentally collectivist or individualist is moot. We must use a Janus-headed dialectic and accept the answer is not either or, but in fact both. We all have a responsibility to our wider ethnic and national community, but within that polity the engines of European history have been stoked by those practicing heroic individualism. Our ethnic identity is the marble, but the individual is the sculptor of that raw material, choosing whether or not to carve out a place in the immortal halls of our history. Inegalitarianism is engrained in the European soul – a race of great heroes and great villains. A stratified family of families in which some are peasants, and some are kings. A large variance in the average IQ of many European nations maps onto the chasmic differences between the souls of our people. Yet we are all still bound together in our struggle to pursue our collective destiny. We have dreamed the same dream.

We are engaged in a multigenerational battle for liberty. But the liberties we demand are not the same as the liberals and leftists who have gorged themselves on the freedom to be trivial; to identify themselves purely with consumer choices and sexual fads. We demand the freedom not to be ruled by our intellectual and moral inferiors. We accept the responsibility and ultimate liberation that comes from the freedom to succeed or fail entirely amongst our own kind. All modernity is a cage for European man, because our untrammelled freedom sent us to the stars, and reduced nations to nuclear cinders. The globalist project was created as a safety valve against the power of organised and motivated European nations – but it has surreptitiously expanded its remit and metastasised into a giant set of shackles on the human spirit, seeking to dictate and control every facet of life. It has designated all of us who oppose it criminals and undesirables, and for some on the right the persona of the rebel and outlaw sits uneasy. They want to continue to appeal to some distant notion of ‘fairness’, and to continue to revel in their bourgeois respectability.

The time of Evolian detachment is over, however. We are all outlaws now, as Big Tech, Big Pharma, and Big Government work as an iron triangle to corral us all into their prison planet. Our objective at this time is not a lofty one, we are not in a position to remake the world. First and foremost, we must survive the long winter of liberty, huddled together in face of the tyrannical blizzards and shifting snow drifts of economic ruin and total loss of freedom. But we can take solace in the fact that the globalist project has overreached, it is hurtling over a cliff. It cannot be reasoned with because it is not rational, it is Frankenstein’s monster, coming apart at the seams under the weight of its own contradictions.

Just as the Soviet Union once seemed eternal and monolithic, our commissariat will crumble and suffer the same fate. Each new diktat from the global headquarters alienates more and more people. Centuries ago, French intellectuals met in smoky and crowded salons to discuss the taboo currents of the day, and in the modern era unmoderated Telegram channels and Twitter spaces are springing up with momentous pace. We are outlaws. We are underground. Here in the catacombs a great abused and disenfranchised mass is gathering. All those labouring in the dark to throw a wrench in the infernal apparatus of globalism are here. We are waiting out this long winter – and once these snows melt, we will bring about a new blossoming of freedom. All those who stand for liberty are now my brothers, and this unshakeable fraternity will weather this storm together.

How Coronavirus Took Over the World

Skull In Forest

The lexicon of mendacious government platitudes has gained another ignominious entry. “Just three weeks to flatten the curve!” they implored, one long year ago. Yet after twelve months of authoritarianism and state enforced solitude, SWAT teams are swooping in to arrest Miami spring break revellers, and lockdown protests from Amsterdam to Kassel are intensifying across Europe. The much-vaunted vaccines seem to have brought us no closer to freedom. The initial justifications for the suspension of liberty will now undoubtedly rank in history alongside such inglorious slogans as “the troops will be home by Christmas” and “diversity is our strength.” Debates continue to rage about the lethality and the origin of the Coronavirus, but in truth these are largely academic discussions now. The Coronavirus is not primarily an epidemiological phenomenon, but rather a sociological and political one. Our question should not be why has this pandemic happened now, but rather why have governments and societies responded to it as they have?

The truth may be that the Coronavirus did not blink into existence in Wuhan one year ago, but rather it had been incubating in the psyche of modern societies for years. The ease with which populations not only acquiesced to governmental restrictions, but also wilfully demanded more of them, is proof that we had already accepted the premise of the Coronavirus lockdowns into our hearts long ago. It is worth noting that almost all the trends and changes that the Coronavirus has seemingly unleashed are in fact simply an acceleration of what was pre-existing. Atomisation, a retreat from the physical world into the digital, a neurotic collective hysteria in the face of death without a spiritual framework, the expectation that the government will provide, a pseudo-religious belief in experts and scientific redemption, and the hyper-politicisation of communal activity.

In examining the Coronavirus as a social display, rather than as a deadly viral outbreak, it is useful to identify who has consistently resisted the lockdown. Primarily, religious communities within the West have continued their lives largely unhindered. Only a few weeks ago, the Orthodox Jewish stronghold of Stamford Hill in London had the highest rate of Coronavirus in the UK. Likewise, there have been several high-profile cases of Indian and Pakistani weddings and religious festivals being broken up; and it has not gone unnoticed that cities such as Bradford and Leicester with large ethnic minority populations had disproportionately high Covid-rates. It is popular on the right to point to this as an example of the failure of multiculturalism, highlighting as it does that immigrant communities do not abide by the laws of the land, and that governments are too timid to enforce them in any case fearing accusations of racism. These points are of course, both true. But this also perhaps says more about Western host societies than it does about those who have chosen to migrate to them.

Handwringing liberals may attribute this difference in ethnic attitudes to the Coronavirus to a lack of education and resources, or our insensitivity to alternative cultural values. Translated, this simply means that Jewish, Hindu, and Islamic communities have not been morally intimidated by a disease with a median death rate in most cases beyond the average life expectancy; and they also have been unimpressed by the potential for social ostracization if they do not comply. Of course, this may be because they are beyond public reproach in the West, but their response has nevertheless been a perennial, rather than a modern one. Armoured by faith, they have taken a divinely fatalistic view and chosen to continue to celebrate the cycle of life and death – weddings, births, funerals, and birthdays. The shrill cries of moral indignation about the selfishness of killing grandma have much less weight if you have already accepted that your grandparents will die, and you will also. In a world riven by suffering and temporal chaos, they have opted to make lives which are meaningful, rather than to potentially live just that little bit longer in the self-imposed cryostasis of Western societies.

As these religious groupings continue their surreptitious gatherings in the Mosque or Synagogue, hermit Brits dared to leave their womb-like hiding spots to gormlessly clap the NHS, in a pseudo-religious act of worship. Without a metaphysical basis only the quantity rather than the quality of life has any value, and if nurses and doctors are the high priests of this new religion, then they should rightfully be venerated and doted on. The transition from a government of oligarchic middle-managers to the total domination by an unelected scientific cabal was really not that drastic when politics had already been reduced to nothing more than a rationalistic and utilitarian problem-solving exercise. The only thing that political parties seem to disagree on is if the restrictions are tough enough, and if the logistics of policing and vaccination have been sufficiently draconian. No philosophical examinations of the objectives of the lockdown are permitted, but then this is unsurprising in societies which also do not allow the questioning of the sacred cows of demographic replacement, foreign policy misadventures, or the cult of LGBTQ+ rights. The population had already been cowed and pre-programmed to accept new doctrines without question by years of the repression of free speech and independent thought.

This does not however mean that the lockdown is unpopular. If there were to be a democratic vote on it, it is likely in many Western countries it would be sustained well into the future, perhaps even indefinitely. In Japan, huge segments of the population have withdrawn from society entirely, living their lives in their bedrooms, supported by their parents or the state, living in a condition of total social shame, arrested development, and hedonistic consumption. The term for this is Hikikomori. What at first sight may seem an anomaly of Japanese culture, is in fact a glimpse into the future of modern society. We are all Hikikomori now. A significant portion of people are in no rush to return to ‘normality’ because normality for them was simply social isolation and alienation with additional demands placed upon them. What does the outside world offer to these people anymore? The answer for an increasing number is soulless, unnecessary, and unfulfilling corporate jobs in an atomised world where no one around you looks like you, set amid the backdrop of towns and cities which are increasingly globalised and interchangeable.

Sweden is perhaps the most advanced case of this terminal decay of modernity, yet it had the lightest lockdown restrictions in Europe. This at first seems paradoxical, yet in many ways it only bolsters the analysis. With its huge migrant population that for reasons outlined earlier would not respect any restrictions, and with its completely atomised and self-censoring society in which nearly 40% of people live alone, formal legal restrictions were perhaps thought to be unnecessary when the vast majority of the population would self-police following the Jantelagen, and the migrant communities would never be compelled to obey anyway.

All of this illustrates one fundamental realisation: the incentive structures for Western societies have drastically altered over the past few decades. Wealth acquisition, passing on your genes to the next generation, and gaining social standing in the local community has been replaced by virtue signalling and climbing the ladder of social clout in the global, digital community. We live online. Our community is our Twitter feed, our gaming group, our curated Instagram photos. This is of course not a particularly original or compelling assessment by itself, but we must also understand that the nature of digital life has changed. Where once social media was pitched as a medium to connect with and keep in touch with real world friends, it is now a vehicle for conformity, groupthink, and passivity. This is underscored by one subtle, but very important change in the language of social relations. No longer are others friends as they were at the dawn of social media, but are instead now merely followers.

Online social interaction has ceased to be bi-directional and reciprocal; it is that of the devotee and the cult leader. It is a slave and master mentality. It is therefore unlikely a sudden revolt against the popular consensus will spring from those who even in their private online domain are passive cheerleaders. The fact is the physical world has lost its grip over the modern imagination. Going out to earn a living is an almost archaic activity when we are inching towards states so all encompassing that they will provide a universal basic income driven by fiat money printing. The rise of Bitcoin is a reaction to the feeling that our economies are a giant fiction, running up debts that are never intended to be repaid, presided over by a handful of oligarchs with more wealth than we could ever even imagine. Under these conditions, heading outside and into the office seems terribly outmoded. Likewise, in the digital age sex has been relegated to a solo activity as pornography supplants procreation for the Onlyfans generation. In the West there are fewer and fewer communal anchors, as pubs and churches close. All of this contributes to the feeling that there is nothing out there in the world of any value, and so the loss of the freedom to go outside and to associate for many has been more an inconvenience than a matter of life and death.

Life and death, and mortality salience however does play a huge role in the current crisis. Preying on health fears to instil compliance with governmental policy has proven so wildly successful precisely because the population is already so primed to believe that it is at risk. This is because in many ways, it is. An obese, ageing, mentally and chronically ill populace is already well versed with an internalised fear of their own incapacitation and demise. Playing on that is the perfect PR strategy, one that would have been inconceivable in a strong and virile society.

All of these factors have contributed to How the Coronavirus Took Over the World and collectively they spell a long winter for human liberty. The freedoms we have lost may possibly be incrementally restored in the coming months and years, but we have shown ourselves amply willing to abandon our rights and painstakingly slow to ask for them back. There is no reason to believe an event like the Coronavirus could not happen again. We live in an era of chronic, rather than acute politics where narratives linger on for months and years. The underlying cultural and societal malaise, the collective neurosis, and the spiritual death of vast swathes of the West will not quickly be reversed. Our only recourse is to begin to re-root ourselves in a Heideggerian authentic life, to seek out like minded individuals, and to build robust and resilient communities that can thrive in this bleak existential landscape. As others live their lives in stasis, we must instead embrace the world with vigour, and work to take back our collective reality.