Fear, Suppression, and Mythology
Every slave master always miscalculates the physical breaking point of their slaves, assuming that they will have an infinite tolerance for abuse. And yet, humans seldomly revolt against oppression because they overestimate the risks vs the benefits of a revolution. Most of us are designed to be sheep, not heroes: we will avoid personal sacrifice that serves the common good, and steer clear of short-term personal risk even if it comes with long-term benefits for society. A revolution is a harrowing game of Russian roulette that is not for the faint hearted. It is a casino where you risk not just your money, but your life.
Or so we’re being told by the governing powers who want us to believe this cautionary fairy tale. Mainstream historical texts have not been kind to revolutionary struggles either: they describe them as “struggles”, when in fact, at their height, they had become formidable, unstoppable uprisings. Equally, leaders of revolutions are often portrayed as lonesome riders who risked everything to win an unequal battle “against all odds”. Such imagery plays down the incredible people power these activists had garnered. When we talk about revolutions there is a tendency to talk about brave individuals, not brave collectives of people. This is not an oversight, but a deliberate distortion reflecting how the system has always perceived revolution: as an outside force, a threat to stability, and a risk for society. The very concept of revolution is shrouded in urban myths and bloody horror stories of martyrdom which are enough to scare the living daylights out of any of us considering revolt. This, after all, is what they want. To scare us into inaction.
The mythology around revolutions is endless: revolutions are seen as “freak” events when in fact they are natural, integral parts of the lifecycle of any healthy society, much like an occasional forest fire rejuvenates an ecosystem. The truth is that, when a society is ripe for revolution, there is almost zero risk of failure, or risk of life for that matter. If the vocal minority of revolutionaries consistently punches above its weight, it can become a functional majority, or even a real majority. Like a fish shawl splitting in two unequal parts, society suddenly follows the uprising mob. The sleepy majority hasn’t exactly been galvanized, but it has switched sides, at least for now: suddenly, the Russian roulette game is looking less risky to them. They join in.
This crucial transformational moment is what autocrats want to avoid at all costs. They will move heaven and earth to convince the sheep that they still have the majority support, as the two sides engage in a tug of war over who controls perceptions. Society is historically allergic to revolutions and will make all its tools available to the state to help it win the media narrative. Before the revolt has even begun, revolutionaries are portrayed as “individuals who are acting alone” in order to weaken and isolate them, while the colourless, odourless, clueless and opinionless sea of apathy that surrounds them is baptized as “the active society” that is defending itself. A stampede of remotely-operated sheep is quickly mobilised against the internal threat until it is extinguished. The compliant majority has won, just this time.
This is why the classic gaslighting tactic of the autocrat is to pretend society is on their side. Because revolutions never rebel against society. They rebel against those specific individuals who have abused society. If anyone is a loner or an individual, it is never the revolutionary. It is the billionaire, the oligarch, the bully. They have always been alone, supported only by temporary recruits who have either been conned into subscription, conscripted into participation, or bullied into submission.
The most damaging supporter of an autocratic regime is the apathetic majority of Stockholm syndrome sufferers, lifetime slaves and cowards with zero morals. They are the ones with the “it is what it is” attitude. Their deep-seated fear is enough to trigger multiple forms of cognitive denial strong enough to abort the vast majority of revolutions at the very onset of their gestation period. Most of these sheep will manage to convince themselves that they are tolerably oppressed, while others will sink into the comfort of hopeless defeatism. All of them in the end respond exactly how their slave master wants them to: comply with the regime. Everything is fine, we’re all good here, I’m just going to finish picking the rest of this cotton for now and will be back tomorrow morning to do the same. I’m also teaching my children how to do this job in case something happens to me. Thanks so much for everything.
It is most unfortunate that one can easily get used to slavery in much the same way they get used to the lack of democracy. Slaves can live within the confines of their prison for generations. Humans are not simply capable of tolerating abuse. They can get used to it, learn to expect it, and adjust their lives around it. Generations of us have become so accustomed to abuse by billionaires, oligarchs and autocrats that we have accepted it as part of our daily routine: from the employers we put up with and the prices we pay at the supermarket, to the toxic food we are forced to consume.
Revolting In the Body and Mind: The Post-Trauma Consciousness
Given that all of us are susceptible to the intimidation of autocracy, as a biologist I am keenly interested in the physiological triggers that can overcome inaction. Revolution takes place not only in the mind but in the body as well, and our body’s most visceral responses can bypass cognitive denial altogether. There is nothing more powerful than a hungry, angry mob boiling over with hormones and injustice, ready to stand up against their oppressor. Beyond momentary fight and flight responses, how can this explosive energy be harnessed, sustained and integrated into a revolution?
One can only become a revolutionary when they have managed to cross the rubicon into a post-trauma, post-slavery consciousness. All of us have resorted to suppressing the trauma this system daily inflicts on us: suppressing our anger, our discontent, our rights and needs. Suppression of systemic trauma may be a survival mechanism, but it is ultimately toxic. Unprocessed trauma continues to reside in our mind and body, forming a tight psychosomatic noose around our neck. We suppress our instinct to revolt in much the same way we suppress our systemic trauma: very few humans can imagine themselves outside their modern slavery not because they lack imagination, but because they have forbidden themselves to imagine. It is only after a slave realises that their existence is not normal that they begin to question it. Up until that point, they hadn’t allowed themselves to imagine, because they hadn’t recognized their trauma. The average person today is terrified of the destruction of capitalism, even though capitalism itself is the system oppressing them, erasing everything that makes them human. Unless dealt with, unprocessed systemic trauma becomes recycled, as entire nations try to heal their own trauma by inflicting it on others.
Becoming aware of tension in our physical body is key to crossing into the post-trauma consciousness. In this abusive necroeconomy, our biological limits are being exceeded by a system that tries to get as much out of us as it can. But when physical thresholds are crossed, it is the sick body which now dictates to the mind. The sick and the hungry are now ready to fight. Not for their freedom, but for their very survival. Enough is enough. The revolution is under way.
This is why a revolution against this system can only materialise once our actual bodies begin to process the psychosomatic trauma of living in this civilisation. For those of us with a healthy mind and body connection, an intact Infinity State, this has already happened long ago. We want to revolt, and we know that the revolution will manifest itself when crucial biological limits are exceeded. Others yet are sluggishly transitioning from a consumatronic to a consumosceptic state: they are only just beginning to realise that they have been exploited as mere consumption units by a system that masqueraded as their protector. They became remote-controlled purchasing zombies sent from one shop to another, from one exploitative job to another. Some are now realising that they can make active choices and think for themselves about what is and what isn’t good for them. As the consumatron zombie begins to test-drive its post-trauma consciousness, it gradually exits the virtual matrix of the necrocapitalist theme park. It begins to question the consumaverse itself: have I been a slave in this place all this time?
Revolt Is a Human Right
Our right to revolt is being disabled by a society that is censoring itself out of existence, and a civilisation that thinks it can sleep its way through its inconvenient collapse. Our natural state is to live a life which gives both our minds and bodies the space they need to develop without intrusion, instruction, distraction, prescription or oppression. But although revolt against this dehumanising system begins in the body, it also requires eventual confrontation with the original fear mongering narratives of the Church of Money and the Unhappiness Machine. The civilisational lie of economic growth must be questioned: necrocapitalism will always need more consumers to sell to, politicians more voters to lie to, and religion more supporters to prey upon. Centuries of propaganda by these powers of profit convinced society that making more copies of ourselves was good for society and good for the planet. We have been farmed, just like the animals we farm for burgers. It is time to break down the barriers and exit the farm.
But even if we manage to set our minds and bodies free, we are still slaves chained to salaries. By driving to extinction almost every sustainable business that has existed, this system forced us to collude in the destruction of the planet. We have very few living examples of truly sustainable businesses left that we can emulate. Many of us are afraid to be outright anti-business, fearful of being labelled nihilists. But becoming anti-business does not mean you are anti-human, in fact the opposite is true: the vast majority of business today is by its definition anti-planet, which effectively makes it anti-human. What is the point of employment when most jobs are servicing a suicidal, self-destructive business model? Are we all just going to wait for the end of the world in front of our laptops, becoming executive assistants to our own extinction? As the climate and ecosystem collapse, change will find us one way or another, whether we revolt or not. Whether we manage to see beyond the petri dish or not.
Modern business is out to kill us all. Our post-industrial business model may be profitable for the business owner, but it is overwhelmingly a loss maker for equality, environment, climate and everything that lives and breathes on Earth. Revolting against this system is no longer a choice, but our only option if we want to continue to exist.
But revolutions don’t begin based on their chances of success. They are the result of a boiling point having been reached, whether this is in the body, the mind, or both. Revolt can take place on purely ideological grounds, sometimes in full awareness that it will largely fail, yet manage to leave a crucial legacy behind it for the next revolt to build upon. “Heroes” prefer to go down fighting not because they want to sacrifice themselves, but because the only valid form of existence they recognise is one where they are free. Once you choose freedom over oppression, courage is not an issue anymore.
Regimes don’t fall by themselves, and bullies never respond to reason. They can only be defeated by people, events and circumstances they have lost control over. Governments can rarely be persuaded to act on time, but they can be brought down. While governments rise to power to protect society, all too often their sole mission becomes to protect themselves from it. This is the point when they really must go. And this is the reason why revolutions exist.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
George Tsakraklides is an author, researcher, chemist, molecular biologist, and food scientist. You can follow him on Twitter, @99blackbaloons, and enjoy his books, A New Earth: The Apocalypse Locus, The Unhappiness Machine and Other Stories about Systemic Collapse,
Beyond The Petri Dish: Human Consciousness in the Time of Collapse, Apathy, and Algorithms, and others.
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