When we consider systems of coercion and control, we often think of cults, authoritarian regimes, or abusive partners—each deserving careful scrutiny so that those ensnared can recognize their reality, and those outside can help liberate them from manipulation. Yet, most of us fail to see that we, too, might be victims of similar forces.
Many argue that capitalism itself is a coercive system, which it undoubtedly is. The growing chasm between the wealthy and everyone else is a direct outcome. While voices like mine engage in writing, podcasting, and other forms of protest on these issues, many dismiss our critiques as mere left-wing ideology. This dismissal leads to inertia: people grow apathetic and even vote against their own interests in favor of leaders who champion neoliberal Chicago School economics, thus deepening the divide.
I have used psychoanalysis and behavioural economics to demonstrate how right-wing groups exploit confirmation bias and consistency, much like cults, to grow and solidify their bases—even if it means persuading them to vote against their own best interests. Yet, those on the left or firmly in the middle are not immune to these influences either. It’s no secret that finding genuine debate is increasingly difficult. Academia once served as a true haven for open debate, and while it still does in many cases, it is now under threat from forces intent on undermining established facts and, where possible, dismantling these institutions. This, in turn, has spurred a new wave of activism from those who have become educated on how the world really operates and how oppression is maintained.
In today’s world, these systems of coercion and control have reached new extremes. Between microtargeting, behavioral nudges, persuasive psychology, and AI, we are under relentless attack. The most dangerous assault is the one that cultivates inertia—the overwhelming feeling that we’ve lost any control or impact, which can plunge us into deep apathy or depression. With our offline and online lives increasingly monitored, censored, and suppressed, and as activism is criminalized, our rights erode, and our futures become uncertain, it’s easy to feel like giving up. I understand that sentiment.
Nostalgia for a past where bigotry was voiced openly can further fuel this sense of hopelessness. In such times, depression looms large, whether we try to medicate it away with substances or resign ourselves to aligning with familiar destructive forces. This inward retreat can lead us to forget not only who we are but also how fortunate we are compared to others, even as conditions worsen around us. Under these pressures, who could blame anyone for simply giving up? It may seem like the easiest and safest option.
Situations are inherently complex. Many on both sides reduce these complexities to simple, concrete boxes, and speaking of the nuances can result in attacks from all quarters. Yet the very complexity of these systems is why we must strive to understand them—for the sake of our loved ones, our communities, and ourselves. Simply leaning left or right without critical engagement, or worse, coming to a standstill, means falling under their sway. While we may never fully escape their influence, we can work to understand the arguments, the framing, the narratives, the behavioral nudges, and the technological techniques at play.
Currently, the left’s blind spot is its underestimation of how the right, bolstered by neoliberal systems, leverages technology, big data, and behavioral science to further its agenda. While the left debates tactics and hesitates to engage deeply with these tools, the right has mastered manipulation, supported by an economic system and techno-authoritarian power focused solely on advancing its goals. If we do not learn to use, protect ourselves from, and ultimately undermine these systems of coercion and control—and help people see their pervasive influence—we have little hope for change, and the world will continue down a single, inevitable path.