The Silence of Failure

Two parallel stories, one personal from two days ago, one political repeated through time and space.

Individual behaviors mirror political failures, or vice versa.

I went for a haircut at the only somewhat nice hotel in our closest small city. I haven’t had a professional haircut in over five years, it was my birthday treat to myself. My hair was really long and wild. I’d come to like it like that, though I knew it needed some taming. While working, Hubby and I kept professional-looking hairstyles, it was expected. Now that we don’t work for wages anymore, it’s kinda fun to let it all grow out, right before it all falls out in old age.

I told the stylist what I wanted. When I was young they called it the ‘long shag’; these days, according to my Youtube search, it’s called the ‘long wolf cut’. The stylist said she understood what I wanted–long layers. I even specified: “I want the waves and curls to be enhanced.” I was thinking–“Big 80s hair, Baby!” Why not! It’s my birthday celebration style, and that’s what I want!

The sytlist proceeded to chop over 6 inches from my hair, blow it dry to pin straight with the help of 3 stinky products, and then to top it off, tried to convince me that’s what I asked for.

Do you need a special license to notice these are not the same?

When I tried to explain to her that a “medium bob” cut is not the same thing as a “long wolf” cut, she started in on the gaslighting. She was very skilled at it.

Perception management is not the same as taking accountability.

My hair was so damaged, she had no choice. I wasn’t sitting straight and so she had to keep cutting. It was too puffy before, it was too frizzy before, it looks so much better now. “You look so pretty!” She kept repeating this, as I kept repeating, “Yes, it looks good, you are a talented stylist, but it’s not what I asked for!”

“The weakness of every utopia is the same. It demands that men believe what they can see with their own eyes to be false. The slogans change — “justice,” “progress,” “sustainability” — but the pattern does not. Sooner or later, the ration card, the empty shop, or the failed harvest breaks through the illusion. The lie may govern for a season, but reality always delivers the final verdict.”

Perhaps she only knows how to cut one style? Perhaps, and this is probably true, the short bob looks much better on me, objectively speaking, from a professional standard. Perhaps it is healthier looking and shinier and smoother now, all true.

“But you are still missing the point: It’s not what I asked for, and it’s not what I paid you to do!”

She refused to get my point. Flat out refused. I was not trying to get a refund or even a discount. I’d already tipped her, the transaction was complete. I just wanted her to recognize what she’d done.

We circled around her excuses, and I left, saying I’d return in 6 weeks, which obviously I never will.

“But populations are not passive. They respond not with submission, but with defense — of security, autonomy, and cultural identity. Citizens resist when they sense erosion of their freedoms, dilution of their traditions, or manipulation of their choices. The result is a Nash equilibrium: a tense standoff where each actor maximizes its own interest, constrained by the anticipated reaction of the other.”

Such is modern political life as well. Was she modeling the behavior of the politicians she sees on TV? Does she think, because she’s the professional, her opinion on what my hair should look like trumps my own, even though I’m not a child, but am in fact a middle aged woman who knows what she wants, has requested it clearly, and is paying her quite handsomely?

“Each generation births new architects of destiny — technocrats, visionaries, committees — convinced that this time, the blueprint will hold. That this time, the people will follow. That this time, the outcome will be different.

But history is not kind to central planners. Grand designs imposed from above, no matter how noble their language, inevitably collide with the stubborn complexity of human life. People are not data points. Cultures are not spreadsheets. Societies do not bend neatly to metrics and milestones.

Agenda 2030–2050, like earlier initiatives, assumes global consensus is possible, centralized governance will surpass local challenges, and large-scale ecological and social changes can occur without resistance. These are not lessons learned — they are lessons ignored.”

Lessons ignored, like my stylist. Her job is to do what I pay her to do, not to re-interpret my desires. Even when I expressed clearly, in a non-threatening manner, after paying her, that she did not give me the haircut I paid for, she refused to see her culpability. She blamed my hair and my poor posture.

Her insistance that I recognize and declare how pretty it looks is akin to the Soviet withdrawal from Eastern Europe as they were insisting how they deserve to be compensated for all the expertise they brought with their occupying forces and for the infrastructure they built. But of course, not to be held liable for all that they destroyed, lives nor infrastructure.

“Historical Lessons
Attempts to impose totalizing visions from above have repeatedly failed. Examples include:
• The fall of Robespierre (Boudoiseau, 2003) during the French Revolution (Britannica, 2003c).
• The collapse of Ceaușescu’s regime in Romania (Britannica, 2003b).
• The Nazi pursuit of Lebensraum (Britannica, 2003l), which ended in destruction.
• Mao’s Great Leap Forward (Britannica, 2003e) and the Cultural Revolution (Lieberthal, 2003), which caused massive human suffering. Each case shows that utopias enforced by elites end in failure, often violently.”

“Socially, the plan underestimates resistance. People do not change because a summit declares it. Habits are resilient. Traditions run deep. When transformation is mandated rather than chosen, it breeds resentment, not renewal.”

The choices and desires of those paying for services must necessarily be a higher priority than that of those performing the services. That includes politicians, and hairstylists.

“4. Restructuring of Daily Life
From how we travel to what we eat, the Agenda seeks to reshape daily habits in the name of sustainability. But these are not abstract metrics — they are intimate choices. Mobility restrictions, dietary mandates, and housing redesigns touch the core of personal freedom. The assumption that populations will comply quietly with lifestyle engineering is not just naive — it is politically combustible.”

“State incentives — subsidies, surveillance, social scoring — aim to steer behavior. But when these incentives clash with core values like freedom, identity, and sovereignty, they lose traction. Compliance becomes brittle. Trust erodes.”

I can’t help but wonder if her other clients have always bowed to her bullying style of perception management? Does she insist all her clients praise her work, whether or not they really liked the results?

Just grin and bear it, everyone?

“The Nash equilibrium here is not stable. It is volatile, held together by mutual constraint rather than mutual agreement. Elites cannot push too far without triggering rebellion. Populations cannot fully disengage without risking exclusion or punishment.
Populations remain bound to the system because withdrawal carries a price — exclusion, punishment, loss of rights. The equilibrium holds only so long as resistance is isolated. But once enough people disengage together, the balance shifts: punishment loses its sting, and the system itself begins to collapse.”

I suppose only time will tell the truth. Eventually.
If I ever run into that hairstylist next time I’m at the hotel I’m inclined to say: “I’m fine with it, it might even grow back before it all falls out. But just for the record, not everyone wants to look like your vision of the sleek middle-aged professional. Some of us have outgrown that look.”

“Agenda 2030–2050 treats the human species as a single actor, capable of coordinated transformation. But humanity is not a monolith. It is a constellation of cultures, histories, and identities. The anthropogenic hypothesis, when stripped of nuance, becomes a justification for centralized control — see here — a mandate for elites to redesign society in the name of planetary health — see here.
This is where the danger lies. When ecological urgency overrides democratic process, when sustainability becomes a pretext for surveillance, when global goals erase local voices — the result is not cooperation, but coercion.”

Stress Test USA: Failed!

I can relate, I fail them all the time. But that’s not this post.

Here we have two excellent essays that make me think, if this is the new level of social programming, I finally might abide!

Can they teach this in the schools? I might even go back to teaching! (Ok, let’s not exaggerate. We prefer our wee homestead life, even through the weather disasters, great many failures and physical pain.)

I’ve selected my favorite bits, there’s much more to appreciate on each of these Substacks, just follow the links.

The Coward’s Bargain: How We Taught a Generation To Live In Fear by Josh Stylman

“This wasn’t an accident or an overreaction. This was a stress test of how quickly a free society could be transformed into something unrecognizable, and we failed spectacularly. Anyone who actually followed the science understood the only pandemic was one of cowardice. Worse, most people didn’t even notice we were being tested. They thought they were just “following the science”—never mind that the data kept changing to match the politics, or that questioning anything had somehow become heretical.
The beautiful thing about this system is that it’s self-sustaining. Once you’ve participated in the mob mentality, once you’ve policed your neighbors and canceled your friends and stayed silent when you should have spoken up, you become invested in maintaining the fiction that you were right all along. Admitting you were wrong isn’t just embarrassing—it’s an admission that you participated in something monstrous. So instead, you double down. You disappear when confronted with inconvenient facts.

Raising Prisoners
And this brings us back to the children. They’re watching all of this. But more than that—they’re growing up inside this surveillance infrastructure from birth. The Stasi’s victims at least had some years of normal psychological development before the surveillance state kicked in. These kids never get that. They’re born into a world where every thought might be public, every mistake permanent, every unpopular opinion potentially life-destroying.
The psychological impact is devastating. Research shows that children who grow up under constant surveillance—even well-meaning parental surveillance—show higher rates of anxiety, depression, and what psychologists call “learned helplessness.” They never develop internal locus of control because they never get to make real choices with real consequences. But this goes far deeper than helicopter parenting.
The ability to hold unpopular opinions, to think through problems independently, to risk being wrong—these aren’t just nice-to-haves. They’re core to psychological maturity. When you eliminate those possibilities, you don’t just get more compliant people; you get people who literally can’t think for themselves anymore. They outsource their judgment to the crowd because they never developed their own.”

The COVID Conformity Test
This is how totalitarian thinking takes root—not through jackbooted thugs, but through a million small acts of self-censorship. When a venture capitalist whispers his concerns about immigration policy like he’s confessing to a thought crime. When successful professionals agree with dissenting views privately but would never defend them publicly. When speaking obvious truths becomes an act of courage rather than basic citizenship.
Orwell understood this perfectly. In 1984, the Party’s greatest achievement wasn’t forcing people to say things they didn’t believe—it was making them afraid to believe things they weren’t supposed to say. “The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake,” O’Brien explains to Winston. “We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power.” But the real genius was making citizens complicit in their own oppression, turning everyone into both prisoner and guard.”

Neutralization: How Bureaucracies Silence Dissent Through Legal Fuses and Narrative Control by Luc Lelievre

Institutional power rarely reveals its full mechanics in one stroke. Instead, it unfolds in sequences—calculated, procedural, and often cloaked in the language of neutrality. Neutralization, the fourth installment in Luc Lelièvre’s Unbekoming series, dissects this final movement in the choreography of bureaucratic suppression. Building on prior analyses—Heresy, which outlined how dissent is ideologically framed as deviant; Suppression, which explored institutional mechanisms of exclusion; and Omission, which detailed the structural design behind silencing—this essay turns its attention to the silent sophistication of neutralization: the use of legal fuses, narrative gatekeepers, and administrative dead-ends to reroute dissent and erase its public trace.

7. Administrative Gaslighting and the “Fuse Effect”: When Bureaucracy Becomes Theatre

Modern bureaucracies rarely operate through overt acts of repression. Instead, their preferred mode of silencing is procedural — a form of administrative gaslighting that cloaks itself in language of due process while subtly eroding the dissident’s credibility. This technique is not accidental; it is designed.

One illustrative method is what could be termed the “fuse effect”: low-visibility actors within the institutional machinery are positioned to execute decisions that carry legal or symbolic consequences, thus absorbing the potential fallout. These operatives — often legal clerks, junior lawyers, or regional representatives — function as buffers. When the dissident challenges a structural injustice, it is these intermediaries who respond, allowing higher-level decision-makers to remain untouched by controversy. The system insulates itself from reputational risk while continuing its work of marginalization.

But when these “fuses” begin to fail — either through overreach or exposure — institutions escalate. They deploy higher-profile agents, such as communications directors or legal executives, who are tasked with closing the file definitively. In my own case, the surprising intervention of a top-level official from a legal commission — someone with no adjudicative mandate — reveals just how far the institution was willing to go to protect the official narrative. Rather than engage the constitutional merits of my claim, it chose to obscure them through authority signaling and symbolic closure.

This bureaucratic theatre plays out under the guise of objectivity. But for those of us who have documented each step, the pattern is unmistakable: delegitimize the voice, dilute the argument, displace responsibility. These are not failures of oversight; they are evidence of design.

The question, then, is no longer whether the dissident is “right” or “wrong” by institutional standards. It is whether he can endure — and expose — the machinery that seeks to erase him. In that sense, the public record becomes not only a site of resistance, but a form of protection.

8. Conclusion: Toward a Reckoning