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Tactics, modalities, mechanisms

Dear friends,

Long time no correspondence. I hope you are well.

Broadly speaking we tend to categorise political moments into shapes, types, and kinds, which have a belonging to an orientation, left wing, right wing, ‘centrist’, brutal, violent, ugly, aggressive, loud, irritating, whingey, and so on. These labels, at least to me, conjure certain frames of thinking – stereotypes, if you like.

On reading a NLR Sidecar post from late last year, I found myself thinking about the way that propaganda is used by both ‘left’ and ‘right’, particularly the mobilisation of tropes around groups of people. These tactics, specifically propagandist tactics, belong to the entire political spectrum. And the tactics used are separable from a tradition, even if configurations may trigger certain feelings of a party, group, or association with political affiliation (i.e., republican use of identity politics to divide “and conquer”). The tactic, under the surface, remains relatively similar. But let’s get slightly more specific, take a slow stroll towards the analysis today.

Conservatives, broadly, the right wing are loosely interested in mechanisms which centre individualism and (their conception of) ‘merit’. This often means market-focussed ‘solutions’ to problems no one was looking to solve – or hierarchical assertions to hold orthodoxy of exploitation in stasis. The broad scale conservative mechanisms include market-based solutions and private enterprise, ‘traditional’ institutions (‘family’, ‘church’), adherence to hierarchical structures and established authority, regressive change. Tactics, which flow from these mechanisms include tax cuts and deregulation, propagandist appeals to tradition and ‘cultural’ values, extreme focus on conceptions of law and order, individual responsibility, adherence with extremist religious groups, and so on. Modalities, the tools to achieve and back these tactics, often include church and community group organising, conservative media networks, think tanks and policy institutes funded by wealthy backers, pushing action with benightedness for legal frameworks, school, church and state legislature campaigns.

Liberals the ‘centre’ are mostly interested in mechanisms which balance individual rights with institutionally managed reform. This typically means regulatory solutions that preserve existing power structures while offering extremely mild incremental improvements – or technocratic assertions to maintain institutional stability. Characteristic liberal mechanisms include loosely regulated markets for the bourgeoisie with government oversight, public-private partnerships, exemptions and shameless excuses for the capitalist class, ‘democracy’ favouring institutions and enterprise, and conservative policy making. Tactics tend to include ‘compromise’ (almost exclusively for the bourgeoisie, ever favouring the capitalist) and ‘bipartisanship’ (read: negotiation with conservatives), focus group style messaging, light weight government programs, means-tested social services, and bourgeoise regulatory frameworks. Modalities might be professional lobbying, mainstream media engagement, non-profit advocacy organisations funded by ‘philanthropic’ foundations, ‘expert’ consultation, and electoral politics only through established parties, spurning any progressive or independent parties.

Leftists, the left wing, pursue mechanisms that prioritise collective liberation and shared prosperity over individual advancement. Our approach centres on redistributive economics that dismantle oppressive hierarchies to encourage equitable communities to develop. Rather than ‘reform capitalism’, leftists advocate for transformative alternatives: democratic worker cooperatives that empower employees, participatory democracy that gives voice to all citizens, mutual aid networks that embody genuine solidarity, and more. These mechanisms generate powerful tactics, mass mobilisation and general strikes that unite working people; community self-defence that protects the vulnerable; direct action that immediately confronts injustice rather than waiting for bureaucratic approval. Our modalities reflect this a commitment to transformation; vibrant underground networks and liberatory education circles complement dynamic social media organizing; independent journalists and visionary artists create compelling counter-narratives to corporate media; resilient solidarity economies build thriving alternative institutions while simultaneously eroding extractive capitalist structures. Where conservatives move for racist, sexist, ableist and anti-queer ‘traditions’ and liberals settle for capitalist appeasement unashamed of the radical misbalance of power of a system that ‘works well enough’, leftists imagine and actively work to construct better social relations rooted in dignity, justice, and collective flourishing.

Notice a shift in the tone, there? This, in itself, is a (deliberately inflated) propagandist technique – a divisive strategy meant to disparage centre and right wing folks, that could easily be turned on its head, so let’s do that, as much as it pains me, take two on the first paragraph will illustrate this modality:

Conservatives champion mechanisms that celebrate individual achievement and personal responsibility. Their time-tested approach centres on market-driven solutions that reward innovation and hard work while preserving cherished foundations. Rather than impose top-down mandates, conservatives attempt to trust in the wisdom of ‘free enterprise’, the stability of traditional institutions like family and faith communities, and the strength of established social structures. These mechanisms inspire empowering tactics, tax relief that lets families keep more of their earnings; regulatory freedom that enables entrepreneurial activity; robust law enforcement that ensures safe neighbourhoods (it physically pains me to write this, gross); strong moral frameworks that guide personal conduct. Their modalities reflect deep community roots: vibrant church networks that provide spiritual guidance and practical support; influential media voices that defend timeless values; respected think tanks that develop principled policy solutions; grassroots campaigns that engage citizens in local governance. Where leftists pursue untested theories and liberals expand bureaucratic control, conservatives steadfastly protect individual liberty, honour enduring traditions, ... right, that’s absolutely enough of that.

The exercise above attempts to reveal something crucial about political communication: the same underlying structures: mechanisms, tactics, and modalities, can be dressed in radically different rhetorical clothing. What we’re looking at is a crude example of propagandist techniques, which are remarkably malleable. The shift in tone between my original leftist framing and the conservative rewrite gives us an insight into how political writing shapes perception and, ultimately, political reality – consider literally everything that comes out of the Murdoch press, and how it is ruthlessly conservative in (under)tone.

This flexibility of framing should give us pause, particularly when we consider how these tools are strategically deployed across our media landscape. Every political actor, from Pauline Hanson’s “plain speaking” to the Greens’ crafted messaging around “pushing Labor”, employs these mechanisms, tactics, and modalities with increasing sophistication. Fundamentally, however it is how consciously and cynically these mechanisms of coercion are deployed. This can be a fine line, an Instagram reel can quickly begin to ‘feel’ political and give the viewer the ick and on they flick, but a strategic narrative and communications strategy can enable genuine change – left or right be damned.

For instance, we might consider how Sky News mirrors Fox News’ playbook, or how the ABC’s ‘balanced’ reporting often legitimises extremist right-wing positions in the name of both sides journalism – shifting the Overton window ever further to the right. Even ‘progressive’ outlets like The Guardian deploy their own rhetorical strategies, selecting which stories to amplify and which voices to centre. Lok no further than the coverage on the US-backed genocide Israel is committing in Palestine – while The Guardian is allegedly a left-wing outlet, its coverage utterly supresses the mass murder of Palestinians and political supporters therein. Moreover, the atrocious political circus which was the voice referendum showed this in stark relief. The same constitutional mechanism was framed as either divisive identity politics or modest recognition, depending entirely on who was doing the framing. Where does the power lie, and must we keep wondering?

These tactics are also ever present in social media, a capitalist prison manufactured for the unwitting consumer. Bombarded daily with advertising and baseless consumerism, the social media channels increasingly throw in extremist political positions – ever favouring the right wing. That TikTok about housing affordability might be grassroots activism or carefully crafted political messaging, and increasingly, it’s actually both. Instagram reels explaining economic policy tend not to be able to use the same addictive formats as right-wing hate speech, so are discarded either by the algorithm or the consumer, while YouTube doesn’t distinguish between genuine political education and sophisticated propaganda, though it prefers the latter for ‘engagement’ metrics.

Each political actor, regardless of their ‘stated’ ideology, operate within colonial capitalism. Yes, even the Trotskyists. Whether it’s the Coalition defending mining interests, Labor’s ‘pragmatic’ climate policies (i.e., approve coal mines and fuck the future for everyone, Albo needs another property), or even some leftist movements that fail to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander sovereignty, or ignore the far reaching grasp of capitalist realism, the underlying system shapes what is considered realistic or even reasonable political discourse.

This system has steadily shifted the Overton window rightward over decades. What was once considered extreme right-wing policy, like mandatory detention of asylum seekers or privatising essential services, is now bipartisan ‘common sense’ (c.f., Gramsci). Meanwhile, policies that were mainstream in the Whitlam era, like free university education or ambitious public housing programs, are dismissed as ‘radical’ or economically ‘irresponsible’. Even basic social democratic proposals are branded as far-left extremism by Labor diehards, media commentators, and outlets tone guides who have internalised a constant breeze to the east (or, ‘rightward drift’). The result is a political landscape where the centre keeps chasing the right, while genuinely progressive ideas are confined to the margins of acceptable discourse by Labor and it’s hegemonic bloc.

This is where critical media literacy is essential. Understanding that every headline is political, be it about ‘African gangs’, ‘economic analysis’, and even feel good stories about individual charity obscure systemic failures, this should be basic skills. Alas, critical media literacy, hell even technology literacy, is largely eradicated from the Australian Curriculum, and fewer than ever teachers are empowered to teach critically.

My question to you, then is, do we accept and continue to use these tools, these modalities, mechanisms or tactics to perpetuate existing systems of exploitation? Can we imagine and build something radically different? Do we need new tools (c.f., Lorde) and how can we co-construct these in the face of capitalist realism? In an era where political communication is increasingly sophisticated and ubiquitous, developing critical consciousness is a survival skill, one that we need a decolonial, anti-capitalist, and fundamentally humanist approach to – at least that’s what I reckon. But you can’t solve all the worlds problems in a single post, ey.

Much love, solidarity, and hope,

Aidan

,   &  Aidan Cornelius-Bell
media, literacy, hegemony, technology, techniques, politics

Navigating plurality in non-dynamic systems (or, ‘dynamism’ and human suffering)

Dear friends,

We are bound in frames of colonial capitalism with systems of static purpose and design. Unless you live on the periphery, it is highly likely that at least some aspect of your existence fits within the western economic system. And unless you are centralised in a small handful of European nations (with, admittedly, high populations), you are probably contributing to those European nations prosperity, rather than your own. Naturally, with American imperialism this began to shift, and the global flows of resources and moneys are so deeply complex and intently mystified that tracing from primordial origins no longer serves meaningful purpose, but let’s do a little now anyway.

Capitalism emerged through violent processes of transformation beginning in 15th century Europe, where leaders leveraged desires for wealth and power to drive colonial expansion across the globe. This involved a dual process of material and ideological change. Materially, people were removed from their traditional relationships with land through enclosures and forced into wage labour, while skilled craftspeople were transformed into alienated workers separated from their means of production. This process was accompanied by colonial expansion that established global systems of exploitation and resource extraction [1].

The establishment of capitalism also required fundamental social and cultural transformations. This included the subjugation of women and devaluation of reproductive labour, most violently expressed through witch hunts, which helped establish the patriarchal control necessary for capitalist accumulation. Women’s unpaid domestic labour, childcare, and community care work became essential but unvalued parts of the new economic system [2]. Simultaneously, racial hierarchies were established to justify colonial violence and exploitation [3]. Both of these schematics of oppression continue today in ever more violent, sociopathic, and intergenerationally damaging forms.

These origins weren’t natural or inevitable, but rather emerged through deliberate processes of violence, dispossession, and ideological transformation that continue to shape contemporary (capitalist) social relations. New cultural institutions were created to maintain hegemonic control, transforming previous social values into ones centred on profit and accumulation. The Marxian tradition emphasises understanding these violent origins is crucial for recognising capitalism’s fundamental nature as an exploitative system rather than a natural way of organising society. But what are these systems now? And what the heck are dynamics?

The material conditions of capitalism in the 2020s are characterised by extreme wealth concentration, with the top 1% controlling more wealth than all world governments combined. This material dominance is maintained through new forms of exploitation, particularly through “innovations” like digital platforms and algorithmic control of workers entire lives. We’ve talked at length about how companies like Meta, Google, Amazon, and Apple have created digital fiefdoms that extract value from all social and economic activity within their domains [4]. Meanwhile, the traditional working class faces increasing precarity, with stable employment replaced by gig work and casual contracts, while essential public services are stripped away through privatisation and corporatisation.

Ideologically, capitalism maintains its hegemony through increasingly sophisticated means of manufacturing consent [5]. Social media algorithms create personalised propaganda, pushing users toward content that fragments class consciousness while promoting individualistic and reactionary worldviews. Digital platforms function as new cultural institutions that shape public discourse and prevent the emergence of collective resistance. Traditional media, largely controlled by figures like Murdoch, work in concert with these digital systems to naturalise consent to capitalist exploitation and prevent alternative visions from gaining traction.

The reproductive aspects of capitalism have also evolved, with the crisis of social reproduction intensifying. While women’s unpaid labour remains essential to capitalism’s functioning, new pressures from precarious employment and the dismantling of social services have made this reproductive work increasingly difficult to sustain. The system responds by commodifying aspects of social reproduction, from childcare to emotional support, while simultaneously devaluing and degrading these services. Moreover, in places like the United States, basic access to health care is not only stratified to the wealthy elite, but increasingly drawn on racial and gender axes. This has led to a perfect storm of psychological warfare against workers, particularly affecting those at the intersections of gender, race, and class exploitation.

Social institutions ranging from education to healthcare maintain rigid barriers against meeting genuine human needs while showing remarkable dynamism in creating new forms of exploitation. For example, universities remain inflexibly opposed to providing genuine public education or supporting critical thinking, while rapidly evolving new methods to extract value from students and workers through casualisation, metrics-based management, and the commodification of knowledge. Similarly, healthcare systems are increasingly rigid in denying universal access while dynamically developing new ways to generate profit from human suffering. Here, my friends, we start to see the rigidity of systems which may even claim “dynamism”.

The supposed dynamism of capitalist systems masks a fundamental rigidity. While markets and technologies evolve rapidly in pursuit of profit, the underlying structures of exploitation remain remarkably static [6]. We see this, particularly, in capitalism’s persistent reliance on unpaid reproductive labour, primarily performed by women, which forms an essential yet systematically devalued foundation of the entire economic system. The “dynamic” face of capitalism, which is actually its ceaseless drive for new markets, technologies, and methods of surplus value extraction, operates in parallel with rigid hierarchies of gender, race, and class. These hierarchies ensure continued access to devalued reproductive labour: the childrearing, housework, and emotional labour necessary to reproduce the workforce itself. This creates a striking paradox where capital can rapidly adapt production methods while steadfastly resisting any meaningful valuation of reproductive work or addressing intersectional worker needs.

This isn’t to say that there are not those working towards their own utopias.

The formation of the Amazon Labor Union (ALU) is just one recent example of workers confronting both technological control and reproductive constraints. Workers organised specifically around issues of bathroom breaks, parental leave, and scheduling predictability. All points where profit-driven “efficiency” directly conflicts with human needs and dignity. Their success in becoming the first unionised Amazon warehouse (in the US) demonstrates how collective action can challenge seemingly immutable corporate structures. In Spain, the Mondragón Cooperative Corporation offers a different model of resistance, having developed an extensive network of worker-owned enterprises that explicitly prioritise worker well being “alongside economic viability”. Their integration of childcare facilities and flexible scheduling directly addresses reproductive labour needs traditionally ignored by capitalist firms.

The Zapatista movement in Mexico, has developed autonomous communities that integrate collective care work into their economic organisation [7]. Their caracoles explicitly incorporate women’s leadership and Indigenous understanding of collective well being, challenging both capitalist exploitation and colonial impositions on Indigenous ways of being. In Canada, First Nations-led movements such as Idle No More have confronted extractive capitalism through land defence which asserts sovereignty and relationships to land. These resistive movements frequently centre women’s leadership and cultural knowledge, refusing the capitalist separation of resource extraction from reproductive care for land and community.

We live within, however, a capitalist ontology which very quickly reaches and colonises our minds — from an extremely young age we are thrust into relation with capital. This ontological capture operates at multiple levels. At the individual level, precarity and debt create constant psychological stress that makes long-term, strategic thinking difficult. People trapped in cycles of survival labour often lack the mental bandwidth to imagine alternatives, let alone organise for them. The gig economy’s atomisation of workers further fragments collective consciousness, making it harder to recognise shared conditions of exploitation. Moreover, the colonisation of resistance is ever clear in how anti-capitalist movements are often recuperated into market logic. Thinking back on my post on how self-care transformed from a Black feminist concept into a commodified industry, or how workplace wellness programs individualise systemic issues [8]. Even our modes of resistance often unconsciously replicate capitalist temporalities and metrics of success.

We need frameworks for seeing the plural nature of reality, but we also need to tare down systems which reinforce division, hate and exploitation. Managing this requires dialogue and community. This is something that we’re building ever more of here, and I am so grateful to you for your reading of this post. Keep de-capitalising your mind, folks.

With love,

Aidan

  1. Marx, K. (1990). Capital: A critique of political economy (B. Fowkes, Trans.). Penguin Books in association with New Left Review. ↩︎

  2. Federici, S. (2014). Caliban and the witch (Second, revised edition). Autonomedia. ↩︎

  3. Sherwood, J. (2013). Colonisation – It’s bad for your health: The context of Aboriginal health. Contemporary Nurse, 46(1), 28–40. https://doi.org/10.5172/conu.2013.46.1.28 ↩︎

  4. https://mndrdr.org/2025/the-labour-process-atomisation-and-social-media; Varoufakis, Y. (2023). Technofeudalism: What killed capitalism. The Bodley Head. ↩︎

  5. Chomsky, N. (1994). Manufacturing Consent (E. S. Herman, Ed.). Vintage. ↩︎

  6. Dynamism under capital is ultimately anti-human, it seeks to evade or obscure the messy and annoying ‘organic’ parts of a human workforce. This, obviously, is deeply problematic for anything resembling humanist values and equality. ↩︎

  7. https://mndrdr.org/2024/making-meaning-at-the-end-of-time ↩︎

  8. https://mndrdr.org/2024/on-burnout ↩︎

,   &  Aidan Cornelius-Bell
systems thinking, dynamics, structures, history, capital, accumulation, exploitation, literacy

On immunity and the ruling class

Dear friends,

I woke to news that France was refusing to arrest Netanyahu despite the ICC’s ruling on his creation and maintenance of genocide. So yes, in one fell swoop, France declares a law of its own and renders the ICC as a theatre for political drama, not action – same as it ever was I suppose. This movement gives us yet another lens, in what has basically become a camera store or optometrist, through which to examine how the ruling class protects its own. This isn’t surprising, after all when was the last time you saw a billionaire or war criminal actually face consequences for their actions? But what makes this moment interesting is how this protection is being reinforced in mainstream society through broader political moves – once again creating opportunities to climb and hoist up the ladder. What we see, here, is concomitant and frankly thus far unprecedented control of digital information to manufacture consent.

As always, let’s delve into a little theory first. Gramsci (hello there) gave us a robust understanding of how the dominant group in society controls and maintains their power – hegemony – which helps us understand how ruling class power is maintained not just through direct state violence, but through cultural control and manufactured consent. In our digital age, this hegemonic control manifests equally through cultural institutions – now reconstituted to include social media companies – and through use of force when this manufactured consent fails. The ruling class isn’t just controlling traditional media anymore, in fact they are actively shaping the architecture of digital spaces to prevent class consciousness from emerging. The newspapers, radio stations, and cultural organisations of Gramsci’s time served to normalise fascist ideology and make it appear as “common sense”, today’s social media platforms serve the exact same function – personalised propaganda for fascist ends.

Consider how platforms like Meta, Twitter, and YouTube have “evolved”. What began as seemingly neutral spaces for connection and information sharing have become (badly tuned) instruments of ideological control. The concentration of power in the hands of a few tech oligarchs – looking at you Musk and Zuckerberg – is an extension the media barons of Gramsci’s era, hell of our era – looking at you Murdoch. These modern-day Hearsts (or “Johnny Newspaperseed” if you like) don’t just own the platforms, they shape what information users can see – right so history repeats itself, got it? The “freedom” – that brief flash of democratisation – to post whatever you want is, now more than ever, utterly meaningless when “the algorithm” ensures only certain viewpoints gain traction. This hasn’t “changed” because the technology itself changed – rather the technology is now more fit for purpose. Capital recognised the threat posed by truly “open” digital spaces and moved aggressively to capture and reshape them. That’s why there’s so much platform monopolisation and so many moves to lock down hosting, platform providers, and fundamentally “open” parts of the internet. The early internet’s potential for activist organising and counter-hegemonic discourse was precisely what made it dangerous to ruling class interests. And now it’s nice and Musky instead — and what’s left in the open web is not substantial enough to shake Meta’s exclusivity.

Modern digital hegemony is not a major departure from previous forms of platform control. Nothing truly innovative has ever emerged from capitalism, it is capable only of subsuming peripheral ideas that benefit control and manipulation tactics. But its propaganda machine is enviable and terrible – the modern Web 2.0 internet was a con to pull democratic voices and conglomerate them under tech giants. The aura of “open” remains in forums like Facebook, where people feel a sense of broad connection because their once upon a time physical network of actual friends migrated there (and then promptly stopped interacting in the real world). Mediation of friendship and human connection through technology could have been a wonderful thing, instead it’s an intensification echo chamber that amplifies the worst of humanity to serve capitalist ends. Users feel like they’re freely choosing what content to engage with, but the choices themselves are curated by algorithms designed to promote ruling class interests. This is Gramsci’s “spontaneous consent” operating at a deep level of sophistication.

Varoufakis offers a compelling framework, here, for understanding this transformation through his concept of technofeudalism. He argues that we’re seeing the emergence of a new form of economic domination where tech platforms function as digital fiefs, extracting rents from all social and economic activity that occurs within their domains. Much like feudal lords who could demand tribute from anyone living on their land, companies like Meta and Twitter can extract value from any interaction that takes place on their platforms. Look no further than Twitter’s claim that it owns Alex Jones’ profile and therefore criminal action cannot seek to sell it to reclaim damages. This isn’t traditional monopoly power - it’s a restructuring of social relations where tech oligarchs function as modern-day lords, determining what information can flow through their digital fiefdoms while demanding tribute (in the form of data and attention) from their users. The parallel to feudal power structures is apt when we consider how these platforms have become essential infrastructure for modern life. Just as medieval peasants couldn’t simply “opt out” of their local lord’s domain, today’s workers can’t realistically withdraw from these digital spaces without facing social and economic isolation – though, I’m happily Meta free for 6 months and counting and my mental health has significantly improved.

When we couple these background pieces with our key point – bad people can do what they want, as long as they work for capital, and legislature, public opinion, common sense and judiciary will be turned on anyone who doesn’t agree – we see hegemony in action with all its warts. What better capturing of coercive control than the Australian, particularly South Australian, Labor government’s utterly insane legislation to ban under-17s from phones in school and social media altogether. As always, this isn’t about “thinking of the children”. It is about preventing young people from developing critical digital literacy skills that might help them see through ruling class propaganda. Rather than teach young people how to critically engage with digital information, the response is to simply cut off access entirely. The message is clear: better to prevent access than risk class consciousness emerging through digital means. That’s what TikTok was fostering – communist awareness, even if it was the Chinese brand of capitalist communism (yes, that’s an oxymoron folks – and also another form of international state actors creating dissent).

All this legislature to dumb down the working class nests within a broader pattern of global control. The ruling class clearly recognised that Gen Z’s unprecedented access to information posed a threat to their hegemony. For a brief moment, young people had the ability to bypass traditional media gatekeepers and access unfiltered information about capitalism’s contradictions, imperial and intersectional violence, and class struggle. The response has been swift and brutal: the algorithmic promotion of fascist content, the strategic purchase of Twitter to control discourse, the flooding of the internet with AI-generated slop, and the deliberate degradation of search capabilities. There’s a reason Google only offers you mainstream news, social media posts, and “Reddit discussions” (read: AI bots screaming at each other; and sadly the other dominant search index is not much better).

The purported “neutrality” of algorithms provides perfect cover for the neo-Nazi ideological project (sorry, “Labor Party”) – the rise of fascism to cement capitalism under fire. When YouTube “randomly” promotes far-right content, or TikTok faces bans for allowing anti-hegemonic narratives to spread, we’re supposed to believe these are natural or necessary technical decisions rather than deliberate acts of class warfare. This is what manufactured consent looks like for the digital age. No longer just filtering information through corporate media ownership as Chomsky described, but actively manipulating the infrastructure of digital spaces to fragment class solidarity – and then enacting laws that ensure this is the only way to engage with politics, society, and critique. Meanwhile, the traditional protection racket continues unabated. France’s refusal to arrest Netanyahu follows the same logic as America’s refusal to prosecute war criminals from its own imperial adventures, or Australia’s protection of mining executives who destroy Aboriginal land. The ruling class doesn’t arrest its own – whether they’re genocidal leaders or billionaire exploiters. What’s changed is their ability to couple this direct protection with digital platform manipulation to preempt and prevent resistance from forming. This is what Marx would recognise as the intensification of class warfare through new technological means. The current axis of economic exploitation coupled with maintenance of “correct ideology” prevent workers from developing the consciousness needed to recognise our shared interests.

I think the worst part is that this all seems to be working. Despite having theoretical access to more information than any generation before, many young people are being systematically channelled into reactionary politics through carefully curated digital spaces. From PragerU propaganda to algorithm-boosted fascist content, the ruling class has turned digital spaces into machines for manufacturing consent. It’s a nazi’s world out there, or rather the new nazis, zionists, cryptofascists and other bullshit peddlers. The fact that they’re working to control digital information flows reveals their fear of what might happen if workers could freely share information and recognise their common interests. As always, all it takes is looking at how the 1% destroys the souls of the 99% and using these tools against them … not that that ever seems to happen.

Is there an opportunity here, now, to use the open technologies of the modern internet to undermine their propagandist, ecologically destructive, and toxic ideology? Of course there is, and there are a litany of open source projects that promote free platforms moderated by communities not tech oligarchs. There are many ways to learn digital literacy, to be critical of information that appears in front of you, and to reject racist, sexist, ableist, xenophobic and hollow explanations for exploitation. The real problem is very simple – capital is destroying us as a species, and all those trapped in this jail with us. If we, the vast majority of people don’t take meaningful action to change course, we’re doomed – we are already doomed, even with traditional intellectuals sounding alarms of no return. If it’s so bad that the ruling class is divided on it, the urgency of working class action has never been clearer.

We can use our own digital infrastructure, we can find ways to connect with fellow humans, and we can reject the laws, propaganda, and bullshit the ruling class has cranked up to 11. From critiquing the colonial-capitalist project, to teaching our communities how to understand information that is presented to them, there are better ways. And if none of that sounds like you, the least you can do is get off Meta’s platforms – it’s actually as simple as just deleting the app. The ruling class is betting everything on their ability to control digital spaces and prevent class consciousness from emerging through these channels. Our job is to prove them wrong.

In solidarity,

Aidan

,   &  Aidan Cornelius-Bell
genocide, fascism, capitalism, israhell, literacy, social media