The Collapse of Shared Reality
The invisible system shaping speech, identity, and attention.
There’s a particular kind of conversation you only see in this era.
You know it instantly when you encounter it—flat, brittle, strangely synthetic. Two human beings speaking to each other, yet the words feel pre-written, as if both sides are reciting from invisible cue cards.
It’s not stupidity.
It’s not politics.
It’s not even malice.
It’s something deeper.
A cultural gravity you can feel but rarely name.
People answer questions they weren’t asked.
They defend identities they never chose.
They talk in circles, repeating phrases that sound less like thoughts and more like scripts.
Nuance dies. Context dissolves. Curiosity flatlines.
And beneath it all, there’s a quiet fear—an unspoken sense that the moment you step outside the script, you’ll get pulled out of the cultural current and dragged under.
Every era leaves a fingerprint on the psyche.
But ours?
Ours feels engineered.
Not in the conspiratorial sense—not like a secret committee meeting in the basement of a bank—but in the structural sense.
Like the way a casino is engineered.
Like the way a smartphone feed is engineered.
Like the way a school curriculum is engineered.
A thousand tiny, self-reinforcing incentives shaping how we think, how we speak, how we relate to each other… until a new “normal” emerges. A culture that teaches us to perform instead of communicate, react instead of reflect, posture instead of understand.
Most people sense that something is off.
They just don’t have the language for it.
That’s what this essay is about.
This is not a conspiracy map, or an indictment, or a narrative bomb like the Epstein series.
This is a cultural autopsy.
A forensic breakdown of how an entire society drifted into a shallow, anxious, hyper-reactive mode of being—and why so many interactions now feel like talking to a malfunctioning NPC in a broken open-world game.
If the Epstein series was about the vertical machinery—who builds power, who protects it, who profits—then this piece is about the horizontal layer beneath it:
How culture itself was shaped.
How the collective imagination was weakened.
How the “software of the mind” began to corrode.
Because before you can understand why people behave so strangely today, you have to understand the environment they’re behaving inside.
And once you see the machinery behind the madness…
the screenshots you’ll encounter in the next Inside the Forge installment stop being funny or frustrating.
They start being diagnostic.
SECTION I — THE BAD CULTURE ENGINE
If you want to understand why culture feels broken, you have to stop looking at individual behaviors and start looking at the machinery beneath them. What people call “society falling apart” is not actually a collapse. It’s a pattern.
A design pattern, in fact.
And like any design pattern, it produces predictable outputs.
A slot machine produces addiction.
A bureaucracy produces paralysis.
A gossip economy produces fear of honesty.
An algorithmic feed produces outrage.
A surveillance system produces conformity.
Our era runs on something I call The Bad Culture Engine—a sprawling, decentralized machinery that rewards cognitive fragility, emotional reactivity, and identity-based thinking. Not because someone in a smoke-filled room decided that’s how society should function… but because every incentive structure at every layer quietly converged on the same logic:
Keep people reactive.
Keep them performing.
Keep them distracted.
Keep them dependent.
The Bad Culture Engine isn’t one machine.
It’s an ecosystem of machines, each one pulling the human psyche in the same direction.
1. The Attention Market
Modern culture operates on a substrate that did not exist 100 years ago:
infinite supply, finite attention.
The more content there is, the more everything must compete.
The more competition, the more extreme the tactics.
The more extreme the tactics, the more warped the emotional environment becomes.
Eventually, the only things that survive are the things that trigger:
outrage, fear, anxiety, tribal loyalty, disgust, shame.
Subtlety dies.
Curiosity dies.
Context dies.
You get a world where people must react fast because the system punishes thinking slowly.
2. The Identity Trap
Then comes the next layer: the identity lattice.
When an environment is flooded with stimuli, people seek stability in identity—not personality or character, but prepackaged identities:
political identity
gender identity
moral identity
lifestyle identity
victim identity
savior identity
community identity
“smart person” identity
“contrarian” identity
“good person” identity
Once someone fuses their inner self to a prebuilt category, every conversation changes.
It stops being communication and becomes performance.
People don’t think—they defend.
They don’t respond—they broadcast.
They don’t explore—they execute scripts.
Conflict becomes inevitable not because of disagreement, but because disagreement feels like an attack on the self.
This is how culture turns people into NPCs.
3. The Feedback Loop of Fragility
After identity comes fragility.
Fragility emerges when the environment punishes emotional risk:
You say something wrong → dogpiled
You ask a genuine question → attacked
You admit uncertainty → ridiculed
You break from your identity → exiled
You show nuance → both sides hate you
Most people don’t consciously realize this is happening.
They just learn, over time, what the environment rewards.
They learn to play it safe.
They learn to avoid curiosity.
They learn to default to scripts.
And eventually, the culture becomes filled with people who are not fragile by nature…
but fragile by design.
Its final effect is devastating:
People stop updating their mental models.
Once that happens, conversation as a human artform collapses.
Cognitive Passivity / Atrophy
There’s a deeper layer to this fragility, and it’s not cultural at all — it’s cognitive.
Modern environments operate like a constant resource-denial attack on the brain’s working memory. Humans can only hold about “5–9 chunks” of information at once. The feed overwhelms it with thousands. Notifications, endless scroll, rapid context-switching — this isn’t convenience. It’s extraneous cognitive load so heavy that “long-form reasoning” becomes computationally impossible.
A mind that cannot hold information long enough to process it cannot build new models.
It becomes mentally rigid.
It defaults to habit.
It stops exploring.
That’s why modern culture feels less intelligent than the people inside it.
It’s not stupidity — it’s working memory exhaustion, engineered into the environment.
4. The Culture of Constant Performance
The last piece of the engine is the most corrosive:
Everything is now a stage.
Nobody is just expressing a thought—they’re producing content.
Nobody is just talking—they’re maintaining a brand.
Nobody is just thinking—they’re rehearsing an identity.
Modern culture pressures people to act like they are always being watched.
Because they are.
Surveillance used to be about cameras.
Now it’s about audiences.
Even if the audience is imaginary.
The internal monologue fractures.
People stop asking:
“What do I think?”
and start asking:
“What am I supposed to say if I am the kind of person I am performing as?”
The result is the hollow, uncanny, brittle interactions we see everywhere.
Not because people are dumb.
Not because people are evil.
But because the system rewards behavior that feels inhuman.
This is the Bad Culture Engine.
A real feedback system.
A psychological weather pattern we all live inside.
Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
SECTION II — THE ORIGINS OF BAD CULTURE
Eugenics, Administrative Control, and the Century-Long Drift Toward Engineered Behavior
Every system has an ancestor.
If the Bad Culture Engine is the modern construct—hyperactive, digital, algorithmic—then its prototype was built long before screens existed.
It wasn’t called “media engineering” or “behavioral science” then.
It was called something far more blunt:
Administration.
Population management.
Social hygiene.
Eugenics.
The language evolves, but the mission doesn’t.
For over a century, the administrative class in the West has been experimenting with systems that guide, nudge, and sculpt human behavior at scale. Sometimes explicitly. Sometimes accidentally. Sometimes under scientific pretenses that would later be disowned.
But the underlying logic is the same:
If you can shape the population’s behavior,
you can shape the population’s future.
Modern culture didn’t become shallow and reactive out of nowhere.
It descended from systems designed to treat human beings like variables in a model.
Let’s trace the lineage.
1. The Eugenics Era: The First Behavior Machines
In the early 20th century, eugenics wasn’t fringe—it was mainstream.
Academics, bureaucrats, foundations, philanthropists—all believed the same thing:
Human behavior can be improved by controlling human inputs.
Behind the monstrous crimes and pseudo-science was a more subtle idea:
People could be managed like a population-level engineering problem.
It wasn’t just about “good birth” and “bad birth.”
It was about:
who should be educated
who should be labor
who should receive welfare
who should reproduce
who should speak for society
who should be silenced
who should be civilized
how social norms should be enforced
This period formalized the idea that culture itself is malleable—and, more importantly, governable.
We take it for granted now, but the idea that:
“The masses can be shaped for their own good”
was invented here.
The irony?
The same elite networks that built early eugenics infrastructure would later fund the rise of modern behavioral psychology, communications theory, and public relations.
This is not coincidence.
It’s evolution.
2. The Administrative Century: Culture as a Tool of Governance
After WWII, the word “eugenics” became toxic.
So the machinery changed names.
The doctrines did not.
What emerged in its place was a new ideology:
Administration as benevolence.
The belief that:
society is too complex for ordinary citizens
experts should guide the public mind
culture must be standardized for cohesion
norms must be managed
information must be curated
citizens must be “nudged” toward good behavior
This was the era of:
public school standardization
mass media regulation
communications research
psychological operations
population-level surveys
propaganda studies
social norm engineering
centralized curriculum design
Culture was no longer an emergent property of human life.
It was an input—something that could be shaped to produce predictable outputs.
This is the century where the architecture of modern fragility was quietly laid down.
3. The Behavioral Sciences Pivot: From “Better Humans” to “Predictable Humans”
Then came the real pivot point—the 1950s onward—the era where the scientific establishment replaced the language of “improving humanity” with something more clinical and more powerful:
behavioral conditioning.
Skinner, Pavlov, Lewin, Milgram, the early advertising labs, the early intelligence agencies, the early social psychologists—they weren’t trying to create a “better man.”
They were trying to create a predictable man.
A manageable man.
A man whose:
reactions could be steered
fears could be shaped
habits could be conditioned
identity could be constructed
desires could be manufactured
This is the real ancestor of the Bad Culture Engine.
Not ideology.
Not morality.
Methodology.
The belief that:
“If we control stimuli, we control behavior.”
This is the same logic that modern platforms run on today.
4. The Digital Convergence: When Everything Became a Lab
Finally, we arrive at the modern era—the era where all those ideas converged with the most powerful tool humanity has ever created…
the algorithmic feed.
Digital platforms didn’t invent the Bad Culture Engine.
They optimized it.
They accelerated it.
They industrialized it.
The incentives of:
eugenic-era population management
administrative behavioral control
mass psychology
media conditioning
attention economics
identity formation
nudging
…all converged into a single environment that updates itself millions of times per second.
The result?
A culture that behaves like a man-made weather system.
Unpredictable in detail.
Predictable in outcome.
And the outcome is what you feel every time you have one of those uncanny, scripted, hollow conversations online:
A culture that rewards behaviors that feel like dysfunction.
Not because people are broken—
but because the system is optimized for the wrong outputs.
The modern NPC-speak phenomenon feels new.
It isn’t.
It’s the logical endpoint of a century-long drift toward engineered identity, engineered perception, and engineered attention.
This is the ancestry of the Bad Culture Engine.
This is how we got here.
SECTION III — THE COLLAPSE OF SHARED REALITY
Why Modern Conversations Feel Like Glitches in a Broken Simulation
If the origins of the Bad Culture Engine explain how we got here, this section explains what it feels like to live inside it.
Most people don’t analyze culture on a structural level.
They understand something is wrong because of what happens in their day-to-day communication:
Conversations fall apart.
Arguments escalate instantly.
People defend ideas they don’t believe.
Questions are answered with slogans.
Critiques are treated like personal attacks.
Truth feels optional.
Context evaporates.
This isn’t chaos.
It’s not “everyone’s stupid now.”
It’s not political polarization.
It’s a symptom of the environment.
When you place human minds inside a system that rewards reactivity, punishes nuance, and treats identity as currency, you get a society with the same recurring behavioral glitches.
Let’s walk through the big ones.
1. The Scripted Response Effect
Why people answer like NPCs in a JRPG side quest
You ask a question.
They respond with something that feels memorized.
A talking point.
A slogan.
A prefab moral statement.
A vibe.
Not because they’re lazy thinkers.
Because their identity and social ecosystem punish deviation.
So the safest move is to speak from the script.
When environments punish uncertainty, humans mimic certainty.
When environments punish vulnerability, humans mimic righteousness.
When environments punish curiosity, humans mimic ideology.
The result is uncanny:
People talk like someone else is watching.
Even when nobody is.
Schema Collapse / Assimilation
From a psychological standpoint, these scripted replies aren’t random — they’re schema defaults.
A person under cognitive load and identity threat cannot create a new mental category. It’s too expensive. So the brain does the cheapest thing it can: it forces new information into the nearest familiar “box.” Cognitive science calls this assimilation — not the sci-fi kind, the Piaget kind.
This is why any novel, vertical thought gets flattened into a horizontal identity frame:
Left vs Right.
For vs Against.
My tribe vs yours.
The brain isn’t trying to understand.
It’s trying to conserve energy.
2. The Rapid Escalation Phenomenon
Why tiny disagreements become emotional brawls
In healthy cultures, disagreement is a form of collaboration.
In Bad Culture, disagreement is a form of threat.
Why?
Because when identity is fragile, every difference feels existential.
People aren’t protecting their ideas — they’re protecting their selves.
So a simple:
“I’m not sure I agree.”
translates in their brain to:
“You are invalid. Your group is invalid. Your self-concept is invalid.”
That’s why people go nuclear instantly.
It’s not that they’re volatile by nature.
They’ve been trained to experience dissent as danger.
Identity-Protective Cognition
When identity becomes the organizing principle of personality, disagreement becomes psychologically dangerous. The mind treats contradictory information as a threat, not an idea. This is called identity-protective cognition — a kind of automatic immune system that rejects schema-inconsistent information before reasoning even begins.
It feels like the other person is angry.
In reality, their nervous system is defending its sense of self.
This is why people panic.
This is why they change the subject.
This is why they attack the source.
It’s not the argument — it’s the identity wound beneath it.
3. The Reality Fragmentation Effect
The world feels like parallel dimensions running in the same room
In a high-bandwidth culture, people share:
references
common sense
emotional grammar
cultural continuity
narrative anchors
shared definitions
In a fragmented attention economy, these collapse.
Everyone lives in a personalized media ecosystem.
Everyone gets their own “reality feed.”
The result?
Shared reality dissolves.
Each person’s world becomes a procedurally generated map.
So when two people talk, they’re not disagreeing over facts.
They’re disagreeing over world models.
No wonder it feels insane.
4. The Performative Mindset
The ego constructs a stage and refuses to step off it
When culture rewards performance over honesty, everyone becomes an actor:
People speak to be seen, not heard.
They post to signal, not express.
They debate to win, not to understand.
They explain themselves for branding purposes, not clarity.
This is why conversations feel unnatural.
Nobody is “in the room.”
They’re all imagining an invisible audience applauding or booing them.
There is no “private self” to speak from.
Only “public selves,” assembled like character sheets.
5. The Cognitive Bandwidth Collapse
Why people can’t track ideas longer than two sentences
When attention becomes the primary commodity, long-form thinking becomes a liability.
Heavy ideas take time.
Time is expensive.
The environment punishes it.
So people default to:
telegraphic thoughts
half-formed opinions
disconnected reactions
shallow interpretations
emotional conclusions
flattened narratives
It’s not a moral failure.
It’s a bandwidth failure.
Culture reduced everyone’s RAM.
6. The Death of the Middle Bandwidth Zone
Why empathy, nuance, and context feel “weird” now
There used to be a middle space:
not agreement
not conflict
not identity
not hostility
Just… conversation.
A zone where ambiguity lived.
Where curiosity grew.
Where people tried to understand each other without judgment.
This middle zone is where all human goodness happens — creativity, trust, friendship, clarity, wisdom.
The Bad Culture Engine annihilates it.
It trains people to think that ambiguity = weakness.
That uncertainty = danger.
That nuance = betrayal.
That perspective-taking = ideological contamination.
So the middle bandwidth dies.
And every conversation becomes a duel between two caricatures.
Hostile Attribution Bias
One more glitch completes the collapse: in a threat-conditioned culture, people begin interpreting neutral statements as hostile ones. This is known as hostile attribution bias. The more anxious and overloaded a person is, the more likely they are to see aggression in ambiguity.
This is why calm messages trigger defensive rants.
Why neutral questions spark lectures.
Why curiosity feels like accusation.
In a culture saturated with polarization, people don’t just misinterpret tone —
they hallucinate enemies.
7. The “Uncanny Valley of Human Interaction”
Why modern conversations feel like talking to a possessed marionette
When you combine:
scripted speech
identity-defense
bandwidth collapse
performative communication
fragmented realities
emotional fragility
…you get interactions that feel less human and more automated.
People sound like the cultural version of a glitching AI assistant:
repeating phrases, misreading intent, looping arguments, refusing to adapt.
The person on the other side isn’t malfunctioning.
The culture is.
SECTION IV — THE ANATOMY OF HEALTHY CULTURE
What functional societies produce — and why ours doesn’t anymore
Once you understand the machinery of Bad Culture, the natural question is:
What does a functional culture look like?
What does it produce?
What does it reward?
What does it feel like to live inside it?
The answer isn’t a moral sermon or nostalgia.
It’s structural.
Healthy cultures — across history, across continents, across eras — share the same core architecture.
Not because of ideology, but because of information flow.
Functional societies produce strong signals, not noise.
They produce coherent norms, not identity scripts.
They produce resilient minds, not reactive ones.
Let’s break down the structural elements.
1. High-Bandwidth Communication
The ability to actually think together
In healthy cultures:
conversation is exploratory
disagreements are survivable
nuance is normal
questions aren’t dangerous
uncertainty is permissible
long-form thought is rewarded
trust is high enough for vulnerability
This creates a shared mental workspace — a place where people can actually combine their intelligence.
Bad Culture destroys this.
It replaces communication with performance.
It replaces synthesis with reaction.
A functioning culture creates room, not pressure.
2. Narrative Continuity
Memory, context, and a shared story that isn’t rewritten every 48 hours
People need continuity.
Not indoctrination — context.
Functional cultures offer:
shared metaphors
shared references
shared emotional language
generational continuity
stable norms
predictable expectations
This creates a sense of temporal stability — the idea that the world tomorrow will resemble the world today.
Bad Culture shatters this on purpose.
It produces micro-narratives whose half-life is minutes.
It dissolves continuity until people forget what “normal” feels like.
A healthy culture gives people a storyline.
Bad Culture gives them a glitching feed.
3. Decentralized Sense-Making
Distributed intelligence instead of centralized narrative control
This is where the governance papers matter.
High-functioning ecosystems aren’t controlled top-down.
They emerge from:
local decision-making
community-level intelligence
distributed expertise
open feedback loops
participatory norms
redundant channels of communication
In nature, centralized systems are fragile.
Distributed systems are resilient.
Healthy culture behaves the same way.
Bad Culture centralizes narrative control — via platforms, media pipelines, algorithmic filters, bureaucratic norms — until the “truth stream” becomes a single point of failure.
Healthy culture generates truth from the network itself.
4. Shared Reality Anchors
Common definitions, common maps, common ground
Functional societies maintain anchors:
shared definitions of key words
shared facts (even if interpreted differently)
shared civic expectations
shared emotional grammar
shared rituals
shared meaning structures
Without these, conversation collapses.
Bad Culture dissolves shared anchors to fragment the population.
This isn’t ideology.
It’s architecture.
Healthy culture rebuilds these anchors deliberately — through slow, communal meaning-making.
5. Real Social Feedback
Accountability that isn’t algorithmic
In healthy societies, feedback is:
interpersonal
embodied
contextual
reputational
communal
You see people’s faces.
You know who you’re talking to.
You understand the social consequences of your actions.
Bad Culture replaces this with:
anonymous feedback
algorithmic reinforcement
parasocial loops
infinite audiences
zero-context judgment
flattened identity
This produces decision paralysis and chronic self-consciousness.
Healthy culture grounds people back in embodied social reality.
6. Incentives Toward Maturity
Cultures either reward growth… or they reward regression.
Functional societies reward:
patience
skill
discipline
wisdom
long-term thinking
emotional self-regulation
competence
contribution
Bad Culture rewards:
spectacle
outrage
impulsiveness
identity performance
self-victimization
tribal signaling
emotional volatility
A system grows whatever it rewards.
Healthy cultures grow adults.
Bad Culture grows caricatures.
7. A Sense of Agency
The fundamental psychological nutrient
Every resilient culture gives people the feeling:
“My actions matter.”
This sense of agency stabilizes the self.
It makes meaning possible.
It generates responsibility.
It encourages exploration.
Bad Culture interrupts this with:
learned helplessness
overwhelming noise
opaque systems
constant crisis
hyper-stimulation
moral panic
narrative contradiction
informational overload
The result is psychological disorientation.
Agency collapses.
People become reactive rather than generative.
Healthy culture restores agency through transparency, participation, and coherence.
SECTION V — THE BRIDGE TO ITF8
Where the cultural machine becomes personal
By this point, the architecture should be clear.
The Bad Culture Engine isn’t abstract.
It isn’t an academic curiosity.
It’s not something happening “out there” in the world, hovering above people like a distant weather system.
It lives inside everyday human interaction.
It shows up in the texts your friends send you.
In the comments strangers leave online.
In the conversations that go sideways for no reason.
In the strange emotional stiffness that enters a room when someone expresses an unapproved thought.
You don’t feel it because you’re sensitive.
You feel it because you’re alive.
And your nervous system is trying to warn you that the world’s cultural software is glitching.
Every uncanny conversation is a symptom.
Every misfired reply is a log file.
Every emotionally disproportionate outburst is a bug report.
Every scripted response is a trace of the underlying code.
And when you start noticing these patterns —
when you see the same glitches across different people, different contexts, different platforms —
you begin to understand:
This is not an individual problem.
This is an environmental effect.
This is what it looks like when a culture malfunctions.
You’ve seen it firsthand.
People answering questions you didn’t ask.
People responding to imaginary accusations.
People hallucinating conflict where there is none.
People replacing thought with performance.
People repeating moral scripts like prayer beads.
People speaking in identities instead of selves.
People reacting as if the machine is watching them.
Each one of these moments is a datapoint.
And taken together, they create a map.
That map — the psychological topography of modern dysfunction — is exactly what the next Inside the Forge will reveal.
Not in theory.
In practice.
Not through sociology.
Through lived examples.
Not through abstract analysis.
Through the raw, strange, revealing screenshots you’ve collected — each one a kind of cultural MRI showing the same neurological lesions in different minds.
If this essay is the x-ray,
ITF8 is the biopsy.
Where we take the patterns described here and show what they look like in real conversation:
the uncanny tone, the pattern loops, the scripted identities, the emotional fragility, the vanishing of context, the inability to engage outside a cultural program.
And because Inside the Forge is semi-private, it allows a level of honesty, directness, and technical breakdown you could never publish publicly.
This essay explains the system.
ITF8 exposes the damage the system causes.
Together, they form a mirrored pair —
a cultural autopsy above the surface,
and an operator’s log below it.
The public gets the map.
The Phalanx gets the field report.
Prepare your screenshots.
Sharpen your analysis.
ITF8 begins NOW.
If this piece resonated with you — if you recognized the patterns, the symptoms, or the strange hollow feeling in modern conversation — consider subscribing.
This corner of the internet isn’t just a newsletter.
It’s a workshop.
A forge.
A place where we map the systems shaping our world, and then build tools to challenge them.
Subscribers get access to:
• Inside the Forge — the private research logs
• The Rebuttal — our Discord community
• The Living Storybook — the narrative backbone of this project
• Additional deep-dive investigations and cultural analysis
And later this week, paid members will get ITF8, the private companion piece to this essay — where the abstract theory becomes raw, lived data.
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RECEIPTS FROM THE FORGE
These are the primary research papers, frameworks, and technical sources used in the construction of this essay. Each one contributes a different layer to the cultural, psychological, and historical architecture described above.
1. Investigating Engineered “Bad Culture”
📄 Investigating Engineered -Bad Culture-.pdf
2. “Bad Culture” Schematic Investigation Brief
📄 -Bad Culture- Schematic Investigation Brief.pdf
3. Tracing Imperial Eugenics Origins
📄 Tracing Imperial Eugenics Origins.pdf
4. Analyzing Online Reasoning Collapse Mechanisms
📄 Analyzing Online Reasoning Collapse Mechanisms.pdf
These represent the backbone of the “Bad Culture Engine” framework — the structural, historical, and behavioral layers behind the collapse of shared reality and the rise of identity-script culture.
More receipts will be added with the release of Inside the Forge #8, where we translate these abstractions into real-world interactions and reveal the human fingerprints of the system.






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This "Bad Culture" is deliberately manipulated by marketers and politicians for profit and power more easily than a healthy culture. You can see it in Trump's speech patterns, for instance. He conveys talking points instead of ideas, gets buy-in by leaving sentences unfinished but obvious in intent so the susceptible listener (whose identity is defined by their media-driven tribe instead of internally) becomes a collaborator, finishing the thought and believing the lie because they, by participating, have made it their own. That cuts them off from nuanced evaluation. They resist and reject any non-congruent idea instead of being able to evaluate it.
"This is a cultural autopsy.
A forensic breakdown of how an entire society drifted into a shallow, anxious, hyper-reactive mode of being--"
And what homeless person isn't hyper-vigilant?
And what hollows humanity's heart like the very waning of resources like water?
What could possibly still us all now?
In the face of what actions could occur?