Calls for #degrowth are becoming unavoidable, because the facts are unavoidable. We are in ecological overshoot. We have consumed too many resources and produced too much waste. #Climatechaos and social breakdown with collapsing biodiversity are not side effects, they are #KISS signals that the system is very out of balance.
Degrowth is not primarily a population problem, it is an overconsumption problem, concentrated in the global North and among the wealthy everywhere. How we talk about degrowth matters, some framings slip quickly from ecological limits into dangerous territory. Phrases like “the population needs to fall below two billion” are intended as ecological realism, but historically and politically they have horrific baggage. The idea of “surplus population” has always been used to justify violence against those least responsible for growth and extraction. It slides far too easily into genocidal thinking, even when that is not the speaker’s intent.
That is an ethical failure, not a rhetorical quibble. There is solid research – from Hickel and others – showing that it is technically possible to provide everyone on the planet with a humane standard of living using perhaps 30% of current global energy and material throughput, if resources are distributed differently and wasteful consumption is cut at the top.
This matters because it shifts the problem from how many people exist to how systems are organised. That doesn’t mean population decline is irrelevant. An honest ethics of degrowth has to address it, but carefully, explicitly, and without euphemism. Population change will happen through demographic transition, not coercion: lower birth rates, longer lives, ageing societies. This brings real challenges: fewer working-age people, care burdens, pension systems built on endless growth, and deeply unequal patterns of consumption that won’t disappear on their own.
The real challenge is simple, how do we draw down “standard of living” while maintaining and improving quality of life? That means separating wellbeing from throughput. Less energy and material use does not have to mean worse lives, but only if we redesign systems around care, sufficiency, public goods, and social infrastructure rather than accumulation and profit. Housing, transport, food, health, and culture can improve even as total consumption falls, but not within the current growth-obsessed economic #deathcult logic.
When we fail to do this deliberately, it very much not going to be a smooth transition. It is collapse: scarcity managed by force, inequality hardened, and a global replay of Europe’s dark ages, this time without a stable climate or functioning ecosystems to recover into. Degrowth without ethics becomes brutality. Ethics without real structural change becomes denial.
The task is not to decide who should disappear, but to decide what must stop, what must shrink, and what must be rebuilt so that fewer resources support better lives for everyone.
We still haven’t solved this. Looking back at a conversation from six years ago, what stands out isn’t disagreement – it’s how hard it is to even name the problem we keep circling.
Over the last 20 years, again and again, the discussion slips into the same dead end: personal value versus social value, framed through the language of #dotcons platforms, followers, influence, and business growth. What we need to learn from this is the confusion isn’t accidental, it is structural.
What we need is not only #socialmedia value, not engagement, not visibility. But offline value that exists between people, over time, as shared culture, trust, memory, and capacity. The chicken-and-egg problem, people ask: “What personal value do I get from this?”, “Will this help my business?”, “Can I use this without it using me?”
We need to compost, this messy common sense path. This is why the #OMN project was never about optimising personal outcomes. That #blocking framing belongs to platform logic, the idea that every action must be measurable in reach, influence, growth, or return. This is why the posts, like the one embedded above, people found “hard to understand” weren’t speaking that language at all. It were articulating what the #mainstreaming was #blocking and thus missing from our tech culture: social value.
What is hard to communicate is that social value doesn’t work like our current common sense thinks it does. You don’t extract it first and then decide whether it was worth it. Social value only emerges after people act collectively, without clear personal payoff in advance. Yes, personal value does flow from social value. Skills, relationships, meaning, resilience, opportunity. But it’s indirect, uneven, and slow. That makes it almost invisible inside systems trained to ONLY prioritise immediate, individual reward.
That’s why the conversation keeps short-circuiting, one of the early questions was whether the posts were meant to “influence followers”. That already assumes a vertical model: speaker → audience → outcome.
But #OMN thinking starts from a different place. It’s not about influencing people. It’s about creating conditions where different kinds of interaction can happen – horizontally, over time, without a central controller. That’s why the work often looks vague, unfinished, or “omelette-like”. Cultural values can’t be shipped as a product. It has to be grown, maintained, and defended collectively.
#Facebook was a comfort trap in hindsight. In the thread, several people describe using it pragmatically: staying in touch, organising events, maintaining real-world relationships. All true, and still kinda true today. But the counter-point raised then has only become clearer since: you don’t get to opt out of being used, no matter how carefully you think you’re using the system.
The lock-in effect (“everyone is on it”) was already obvious. What was less visible to meany people than was how disastrously deeply this would shape behaviour, politics, culture, and attention – and how hard it would become to imagine alternatives once that infrastructure was taken for granted.
Why this was hard to hear at the time? This conversation shows how difficult it is to talk about non-market value inside market-dominated spaces. Language itself becomes a barrier. People reach for familiar metrics because they have no shared vocabulary for anything else. So the discussion stalls. People get frustrated. It feels circular. Someone says “find out for yourself”, another hears that as dismissal. Nobody is wrong in isolation, but the frame itself is broken.
What we can learn now? Six years on, a few things are clearer: Social value is real, but it’s slow, collective, and hard to quantify. #dotcons platforms systematically erase the conditions needed for social value to emerge. Personal value derived from social value is indirect, not extractive. You can’t explain this cleanly inside systems optimised against it. This wasn’t a failure of communication. It was an early signal that we were trying to grow an open, cultural infrastructure inside environments hostile to its very existence.
Now is time to work on the unfinished path… #OMN project was – and still is – about creating space for social value to exist again: shared media, shared process, shared governance, shared memory. That was hard to see then, it’s still hard to see now. But the confusion in this old thread isn’t embarrassing. It’s instructive. It shows exactly where the fault lines are, and why the work has always been hard, messy, slow, and necessary.
Some things only make sense after you start doing them together #KISS
The impulse, it’s not wrong. What is wrong is how often that anger gets misdirected sideways, inward, and downward instead of upward, toward actual power.
A lot of people who think of themselves as “radical” aren’t being radical at all. They’re being assholes with better language. Cancel culture in 2020 played a similar role to political correctness in the 1990s: a way to signal virtue, police behaviour, and avoid confronting real power.
An example of this – done right, a code of conduct isn’t a weapon. It’s not a piece of paper you use to beat people with. It’s a declaration that you will protect the people who actually need protection – from harassment, abuse, and structural harm.
Done wrong, rules become clubs. People pick them up and hit each other with them. The wording becomes vague, moralistic, and performative. The enforcement becomes selective. And suddenly “safety” is being used to silence any disagreement rather than defend the vulnerable.
That failure creates space for bad actors, conservatives step in and pretend they’re “speaking truth to power” or “defending free speech”, when what they’re really doing is exploiting the mess to protect the normal hierarchy and privilege. They’re not wrong that something’s broken – they’re wrong about what and why.
The behaviour being criticised isn’t a tribe. It’s a mode of thinking, a widespread, unspoken #postmodernism that still dominates contemporary discourse. A style of politics where everything is relative, language replaces material reality, and moral positioning matters more than any outcomes.
This thinking eats movements alive, it fragments people, replaces strategy with signalling, and turns accountability into spectacle. Most importantly, it redirects energy away from those actually using power. This is a dangerous moment because we no longer have a shared baseline of reality. The #mainstreaming narratives are designed to divide, distract, and trigger – pulling attention away from concrete demands and real accountability.
That didn’t come from nowhere, forty years of #neoliberal economics hollowed out material security. At the same time, generations were trained in postmodern academic frameworks that are excellent at critique but terrible at building shared ground. Strip out material analysis, strip out class, strip out power – and you’re left with vibes, identity skirmishes, and endless internal conflict.
That’s what #OMN has always been pointing toward: rebuilding social truth, shared process, and horizontal power in a culture trained to fragment itself. Without that, we keep fighting each other – and the #deathcult keeps winning.
Looking back from the mid-2020s, the arc of #web03, #NFTs, and blockchain culture is very clear. What once promised (lied about) decentralisation, liberation, and a break from corporate capture now looks like the same, mess, #techcurn pattern repeating itself, yes it had new language, new branding, but it was easy to see it had the same underlying mess making dynamics.
As these #geekproblem projects hollowed out, the signs became hard to ignore. The technical optimism faded, the user bases thinned, and the economic logic exposed itself. What followed was totally predictable: spin. Makeup and perfume slapped onto decaying projects to hide the smell of rot and exploitation. Rebrands. New narratives. New demographics. Same extraction. This was the outcome of building “liberation tech” on foundations that still centred virtical money, speculation, and power concentration.
With these projects we are now in the zombie phase, projects kept moving, kept talking, kept selling – long after the animating ideas had died. Influencers and promoters continued to perform belief, even as any substance drained away.
This is a few years when #fashionista culture met #encryptionist ideology – aesthetics and technical absolutism snogging the undead remnants of a failed #deatcult vision. The result wasn’t in any way decentralisation; it was a simply a new enclosure. People weren’t being freed, they were being financialised, the money problem #KISS
At the core was a simple structural truth: #dotcons feed on money. Put money in, influence comes out. That logic doesn’t disappear just because you wrap it in cryptography or decentralised rhetoric. “Bad actors” weren’t anomalies – they were following the incentives as designed. Aany social good becomes just collateral damage. This is why the lie collapsed in te end.
The deeper harm and problem with #techcurn is each wave claims to have fixed the problems of the last. But each wave reproduces them, because this is what works when worshiping a #deathcult. This isn’t just a failed tech trend, the #techcurn disparity, driven by extraction systems cause enormous human harm, displacing livelihoods, concentrating power, and amplifying inequality at planetary scale.
These systems don’t fail harmlessly, they fail onto people. That’s why the call isn’t just to “be critical,” but to step away – and help others step away too. Not through purity exits or individual moralising, but through collective paths back to technologies built for people rather than profit, life over zombies
There has always been another path: the #openweb. Messy, imperfect, slower, less glamorous, but grounded in shared infrastructure, social trust, and human-scale governance. The #OMN approach doesn’t promise salvation. It offers compost instead of speculation. Process instead of hype. People over tokens.
A note on hashtags: And yes, the hashtags matter. Click them., search for them. They cut sideways through algorithms – small back doors into less mediated, less controlled ways of seeing. Not a solution, but a crack in the wall.
The current #Ai hype bubble is repeating this mess with a little more useful #LLM functionality, but on top of this is a huge mess of #techchurn, which will need composting.
Observation: some people go into news to speak truth from power – using institutions to legitimise the status quo and defend the worship of the #deathcult.
Others speak truth to power – using journalism to expose, question, and challenge unequal power and its consequences.
Only one of those serves the public interest #KISS
Most of what the #fashionista fights and campaigns for, and expends endless energy on isn’t liberation, it’s unthinking equality in worshipping the #deathcult. The argument isn’t about whether the path is destructive. That’s quietly accepted ignored, inevitable, “just how things are.” The fight is about who gets included on the path, who gets representation, who gets a seat at the table – not about whether the table should exist, or whether it’s crushing everyone underneath it.
In this #mainstreaming, success means being allowed to participate in the same extractive systems, the same growth-at-all-costs economics, the same surveillance platforms, the same attention-harvesting tech, the same environmental destruction, as long as access is more “equal”, It’s little to do with emancipation, rather its about equal opportunity complicity.
This is how too often radical language gets emptied out, structural critique is replaced with branding. Power isn’t challenged; it’s redistributed symbolically. The mess keeps spreading, just with better covers and more diverse faces unrolling it.
The #fashionista mindset treats inclusion as the goal, rather than a first step for dismantling what is actually killing us. It can’t imagine stepping outside the current “safe” path, because its common sense value structure depends on recognition within it. The outcome? Dissent gets flattened into lifestyle, resistance becomes performance, politics becomes aesthetic alignment. And anyone who questions the underlying mess is treated as naive, impractical, or “not serious”.
But when the altar is poison, equal access to worship before it doesn’t make it less deadly. Real change means refusing to kneel to the altar itself, and that requires mess, conflict, loss of status, and building alternatives that don’t look good on a CV.
That’s why the #OMN path feels uncomfortable, unfashionable, and slow. It doesn’t offer better branding, it offers a way out. And in a culture addicted to surface, people can’t change, and thus refusing the #deathcult looks like heresy.
This story is about compost, not control: Our world is smeared in social shit. We live in a vast, stinking pile of it. The left has its post-modern shit – where truth dissolves into vibes and dreams. The right has its fascist shit – where truth is something you enforce with obedience and violence. We drink the seeping effluent from this dung heap. Our work, our shops, our politics, our tech… all of it is smeared in the same rot. The planet itself is decomposing under the weight of this social shit.
But, shit makes good compost, you just need a shovel, It’s useful to start this composting with #fashionista thinking being the enemy of compost, its one of the recurring problems in our movements, from grassroots tech to climate activism to alternative media, it is why we need to call out this #fashionista thinking. It’s damage, pushing a complacent, fear-based mindset shaped by aesthetics, purity, and performance rather than working process, mess, and collective work.
This blindness leads to a focus on control, which quickly turns toxic. The moment control becomes the organising principle, everything messy, experimental, or unfinished becomes a threat. And that’s when behaviour turns into this full-on #blocking.
This path of narrow “thinking” skips the first steps: The awkward attempts, the compost and mud, the scaffolding, the incomplete prototypes. Instead, it judges the seed for not already being a tree, the foundations for not being a building, and the prototype for not being a polished “safe” product.
It’s not just irritating, it’s actively destructive, when #fashionista worldview treats change like a commodity, it’s a poisonous dynamic. The refusal to understand #KISS process leaves people stuck in this dark pattern, mostly having no idea they’re doing it. This is a very contradictory issue, on one hand they can still believe they’re “defending standards”, protecting “the right way”, or acting as guardians of quality or values. But in practice, it’s ignorance, and malice or parody at worst. On the other there are nihilism just destroying everything, as I say it’s a mess.
Taking about an example of this mess
Organic metaphors help bridge the messy gap: A plant needs soil, soil needs compost, compost is messy. If you can’t handle the compost, you are not working in the garden.
Then we need to touch upon the defensiveness problem, when we challenge this behaviour you get instant negativity. A strong defensiveness kick because critiquing the #fashionista paradigm exposes the gap between self-image and real impact. People who think they’re “the adults in the room” get, fearful, then angry when told they’re slowing things down. They double down, personalise the issue, and then retreat into purity/safety politics.
Refusing to have conversational space outside the deathcult’s terms is, frankly, worshipping the #deathcult. Conversations become impossible, because they can’t tolerate talking outside the narrow bandwidth of #mainstreaming “common sense”, that is in “undefined terms”,
So what can we do? The #openweb reboot needs mess, not perfection. The tradition – the real open web, not the #NGO-sanitised simulation – is built on: rough consensus, running code, shared mistakes, public process, imperfect prototypes, open but flawed governance and messy collaboration. We need to communicate the understanding that everything meaningful starts rough, unfinished, and imperfect. Perfection is not the starting point, perfection is what you get after a thousand messy, iterative steps.
This is why #fashionista thinking harms the #openweb, a strong tendency to block all of this, and worst of all, it convinces people who should be building that, shaming, they’re “not good enough” to begin, this mess kills movements before they start. People trapped in this rarely see that they’re part of the problem, not the solution.
We need a culture that protects messy steps, if we want the #openweb to reboot in a way that isn’t swallowed by #dotcons logic. We need collective composting, not competitive posturing. Likewise, we need a culture that treats steps as legitimate even when they’re provisional, blurry, imperfect. Never judge the seed by the standards of the forest, nothing grows if people are afraid to plant in the first place.
The #OMN plan, is to keep working and presume people will stop being #mainstreaming prats at some point. And start doing useful #openweb tech. This could be you, message us if it is 🙂
Verticals can be fuckwits when it comes to anything horizontal. That’s not a personality flaw, it’s a values clash, a basic “common sense” failure.
You see this in every movement, and you can see it clearly online right now in the #openweb. Vertical thinking defaults to hierarchy, control, and enforcement. Horizontal thinking defaults to trust, process, and shared responsibility. When the former tries to manage the latter, everything breaks.
I short-circuit a lot of pointless debate by defining the terms #KISS, with a tech focus:
Left = open / trust
Right = control / fear
That’s it. Everything else is noise.
It’s pointless to build on complexity in a post-truth world powered by #techchurn and driven by #fashionista incentives. Complexity just becomes camouflage for power, branding, and control. We’ve spent the last few years watching this fail, over and over again.
Without this #KISS shortcut, we go nowhere, the real choice is simple: build social truth together, or keep worshipping the #deathcult.
The second option is what currently passes for “common sense.” The first one needs a shovel #OMN
For todays hard right mess, you don’t have to look back far to see how this works. Let’s look at a real world example: Argentina’s Dirty War wasn’t an “excess”, a few bad generals, as our liberal friends might say. It was state terrorism, built deliberately and scaled region-wide through right-wing #mainstreaming, they called this Operation Condor at the time.
In South America, from the late 1960s into the 1976 coup, repression was already underway with Peronism. After the junta took power, the gloves came off. This state sanctioned violence wasn’t aimed at only armed groups. It targeted everyone who didn’t fit: trade unionists, students, teachers, artists, journalists, lawyers, priests, activists, exiles. Political disagreement became a death sentence.
Every day people were kidnapped, disappeared into secret camps, tortured, executed, thrown from planes into the sea. Evidence erased. Bodies vanished. Between 22,000–30,000 killed or disappeared. Babies born in captivity were stolen and handed to regime families – identities erased as policy. This wasn’t isolated chaos, it was administration.
And it didn’t stop at national borders. Operation Condor wired together the dictatorships of Argentina, Chile, Uruguay, Paraguay, Bolivia, Brazil. Shared intelligence. Joint death squads. Cross-border kidnappings and assassinations. Safe exile became a trap. People fled one regime only to be captured by another. This was a transnational system, not national repression.
Automotores Orletti. Death flights. The Caravan of Death. The murder of Orlando Letelier in Washington. This was global – Europe, the US, everywhere dissidents thought they were safe.
Foreign power mattered. The western mainstreaming, US, France, and others trained, armed, advised. Cold War “anti-communism” gave cover. Declassified documents show our officials knew, and the literal #deathcult machine kept running.
When our own politics changed, with president Carter who didn’t endorse the horror – he pushed human-rights language harder than anyone before him – but pressure isn’t power. By then the terror system was entrenched, protected by years of US military aid, diplomatic cover, and right-wing internal resistance inside Washington itself. You don’t politely stop an autonomous death machine already at scale.
Inside Argentina the net was wide. Jews – 1% of the population – made up 5–12% of victims. Anti-Semitism baked into “national security.” Children stolen. Families destroyed twice over.
Justice didn’t arrive cleanly or fast. Truth commissions. Trials. Then amnesties to protect the military. Decades of silence enforced by fear. What broke it wasn’t the state – it was the Mothers and Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo, refusing to shut up, refusing to forget. Grassroots memory works as relentless pressure. From the 2000s, amnesties fell. Trials reopened. Convictions followed. Stolen children recovered their names. Planes used in death flights traced. Archives pried open. Not enough, but something.
This example, Operation Condor, shows what happens when hard right state power + neoliberal ideology + secrecy + transnational “cooperation” align. Violence becomes normal. Accountability disappears. “Security” becomes a licence to kill. This is a warning, because when terror is framed as “order”, it always comes back. We are on a path to repeat this mess, please let’s make the effort to become the change and challenge to do something better this time.
Fighting #fashionistas with fashion. We have an app outline for that: iPhone or android.
Not as a lifestyle tweak, not as wellness branding, not as another individual “better habits” story. These proposed apps and the wider projects have nothing to do with self-optimisation, productivity hacks, or personal purity. Framing it that way is already defeat – that’s #stupidindividualism doing the work of the #dotcons for them.
What we’re facing in our digital mess isn’t only a failure of self-control, it’s a structural capture problem. The #dotcons platforms are designed to extract attention, shape behaviour, and enclose social space. You don’t fix that by telling isolated individuals to be stronger or more disciplined. You fix it by changing the infrastructure people live in.
That’s why this has to be collective infrastructure. Shared norms, shared limits, shared tools. Social agreements embedded in tech and process, not moral pressure dumped onto individuals. The goal is to change default behaviour at the group level, so resistance isn’t exhausting and opting out doesn’t mean disappearing.
The native #OMN path is about rebuilding the commons: tools that assume trust, reciprocity, transparency, and accountability from the start. Defaults that slow extraction, not accelerate it. Processes that make manipulation visible and contestable. Mediation instead of opaque algorithms. Human-scale flows instead of infinite feeds.
We do need to keep lighting, this isn’t self-control, it’s collective self-defence. Anything on the normal path is simply dresses up surrender as “wellness” and calls it choice, it is just more head down, worshipping the #deatcult.
The core idea: The buddy method. You don’t fight addiction alone, don’t detox alone, you don’t escape algorithmic capture alone, you do it with another human.
App 1: Digital Detox Buddy
A simple app that sits on top of existing child lock / screen time APIs. No dark magic, spyware, behavioural profiling. Instead, simple:Just process, consent, and friction.
Defaults matter. Default allowance: 4 hours per day on #dotcons, when time runs out: You get a 10-minute grace extension button. Extending beyond this requires talking to your buddy
To permanently end limits: You must unbuddy (an explicit social action). This creates pause, reflection, conversation – the opposite of dopamine scroll loops.
Time reduction is gradual, a soft landing, not punishment. Start at 4 hours/day, reduce by 1 hour per week/month. People can stabilise or reverse with buddy agreement. This is about retraining habits, not moral purity.
What Is counted (and what Is not)? Metered: Phone screen time (total). Time spent on #dotcons platforms. Unmetered: Web browsing, #FOSS apps, Reading tools, Local-first utilities, Creative tools.
The framing is explicit: The problem is not only “screen time”. The problem is extractive platforms.
Privacy + accountability balance, Aggregated stats are public (community-level visibility, cultural pressure). Exact stats are buddy-only (trust-based accountability)
Public stats answer: Average phone use, average #dotcons use, detox participation trends
This is #DemocracyOfReach applied to behaviour change – cultural signal without surveillance.
Architecture: First version: client–server is OK, preferably designed for #p2p later
Buddy relationship is explicit, revocable, symmetric, no central behavioural scoring, no advertising, no data resale, this is infrastructure, not a product.
App 2: Consumerism Detox Buddy
Same logic. Different addiction.
Consumerism Is also a platform problem, endless consumption isn’t “choice”. It’s nudging, targeting, and engineered impulse. This second app mirrors the first but focuses on shopping behaviour. How it works, uses geolocation, identifies time spent in: shopping centres, large retail chains, branded consumption spaces,
Same buddy rules: time limits, soft extensions, explicit social negotiation. Local markets, repair, reuse, libraries, commons spaces are excluded or positively weighted.
This is people to people anti-#deathcult economics made concrete in apps.
This is why it belongs on the #OMN path, and why it is not about personal optimisation, quantified-self nonsense, wellness capitalism, #NGO nudging, or behavioural surveillance.
A clear path about collective governance of attention. With explicit social process, open defaults, visible culture change. Tools that support people talking to each other, not being silently managed.
The apps don’t “fix” people, they change the environment people live in. This is striving to mediate what matters now: digital addiction and consumerism aren’t side effects. They are core pillars of the #deathcult. If we can’t or won’t build ways to step out together, all we get is isolated “self-help”.
These apps are p2p, gentle, federated, human-scale refusal, not banning, shaming or preaching. Its #KISS “Let’s do less of this – together.” If we can build social media apps, we can build #dotcons exit apps. A #OMN-native path.
Before you ask, the second stage, step, is to socialise the first step, offline.
Forty years of hard indoctrination doesn’t just fade away. It has to be dug up, held in our hands, recognised for what it is, and composted. If we don’t do this, we have no hope – none – of moving away from the accelerating mess that’s already killing millions and is on track to kill billions. Hobbes’ “nasty, brutish and short” isn’t a warning anymore; it’s a weather report.
Mainstream thinking feels normal because we’ve lived inside it for a generation and a half. But “normal” is a trick. Normal is the smell of rot covered with flowers. Normal is the daily worship of the #deathcult: competition as virtue, greed as destiny, extraction as progress, (stupid)individualism as freedom. Normal is the mess of walking around in a toxic story and calling it common sense.
A useful social activism path is to make this “common sense” story feel dirty, polluted, contaminated. Because it is, everything we touch – our institutions, our media, our language – is soaked in the residue of #neoliberalism. The indoctrination runs deep enough that we police ourselves long before any authority needs to step in. We repeat the slogans: There is no alternative. Don’t be unrealistic. Be responsible. Trust the experts. Let the market decide.
And that’s why we need to dig, turn over the dead soil so something else can grow. We need to break the spell and remind people that doubt, imagination, and collective action used to be normal too, before they were systematically stripped away.
Composting isn’t about purity or escape, it’s about transformation. Taking the poisoned narratives, breaking them down, mixing them with lived experience, adding the oxygen of open discourse, and letting something organic and grounded emerge. Something native, that belongs to us.
The #OMN, the #openweb, the #fediverse, grassroots media – these aren’t personal hobbies. They’re the tools we use to use, and can use agen to compost forty years of damage, to open spaces where new stories can sprout. To let people speak without being filtered through corporate interests and #NGO gatekeeping, rebuilding trust, messiness, solidarity, and actual democracy.
Because the mainstream isn’t just wrong – it’s killing us. And the longer we pretend it’s clean, the faster the rot spreads. Its past time to get our hands dirty, time to compost the #deathcult to grow something worth living in.
If you’re looking to do affective activism – activism that moves people, shifts culture, and builds real change – then you need to start from lived reality, not from academic distance.
The academic histories of our movements aren’t useless, but they are strongly second-hand and often shaped by #fashernista thinking: polished narratives, fashionable theory, safely detached accounts. They smooth over the mess, the conflict, the creativity, the failures, everything that actually matters when you’re trying to build power from below.
What we do need are more minority views from the people who were there. Not just the dominant stories, not just the tidy retellings, but the perspectives that expose the actual tensions inside our organising:
open vs closed
process vs control
serendipity vs bureaucracy
These are the real power that shaped our victories and our collapses. Take #indymedia. From my experience, it began open, horizontal, serendipitous – messy in all the productive ways. And it died closed, formal, bureaucratic – captured by the very forms it was created to resist. This is not a critique of individuals; it’s a plain, structural story. And it’s the kind of story we must use if we want to reboot anything today.
This is exactly why we have the #4opens: openness of code, data, process, and community. It’s a simple but powerful way to mediate these recurring problems. It keeps us grounded in transparency rather than personality, in shared pathways rather than gatekeeping, in public good rather than private control.
If any of this reads like a personal criticism, it isn’t. It’s a reminder that the future depends on honest memory, not sanitised mythology. To build the next wave – #OMN, #openweb, new grassroots media – we need our own histories, told by us, in our own messy, contradictory, living voices. That’s the compost the next movement grows from.
It is about the Invisible Commons, every programmer – from hobbyists hacking together weekend scripts to the coders inside Microsoft, Google, Meta – relies on open-source software. It’s the compost layer under everything. Between 70% and 90% of every app, service, and system we use is built on shared, public #FOSS code. Nobody starts from scratch, everyone pulls from libraries on GitHub/GitLab, built and maintained by people who believe in the commons.
Developers spend two-thirds of their time adapting open code to their needs. This means when there’s a flaw in that shared layer, everyone is exposed, from the #dotcons: Apple, Meta, governments, banks, critical infrastructure., to native grassroots projects. That’s the reality, the real digital world runs on a fragile but beautiful commons.
The problem is the same old one, everyone depends on it, nobody feels responsible for it. This is classic #deathcult economics. Extract, use, profit, but don’t maintain the foundations because maintenance isn’t “exciting” or “competitive.” Just like bridges or water systems, nobody “important”, no elitists, cares until they collapse.
Open-source developers have been holding this mess together for decades in their spare time, after work, unpaid, because they care. That’s the horizontal path. But the vertical world -companies, governments, institutions – have been happy to feed from that commons without nurturing it.
This is where the idea of supporting projects like the #OMN comes in, to build out, public stewardship of the shared digital foundations we all rely on.
We as people need to wake up from our denialism of digital abdication fugue dispar, its common sense that software is infrastructure, as critical as roads, bridges, or power grids. Neglect it, and society festers and stumbles to collapse in slow motion. The #OMN has been saying this for 30 years.
To keep the digital commons alive, we need to become the forces pulling together. Volunteers and grassroots maintainers, the people who keep the foundations alive out of care, not profit. They are the heart, but they can’t carry the whole world forever. We need people and communities or action to grow to rebuilding public digital infrastructure from the bottom up. This is as much about cultural as it is about tech.
But culture needs code, needs maintainers, need support. And right now we’re still facing the same #blocking of all of these. People and funding are needed, not corporate capture, not venture capital, not #NGO “managed change,” but real contributors who care about public-first tech. What we need to say clearly, is that open source (#FOSS) is a global commons, everyone uses it, no one truly maintains it, vertical institutions, like the #dotcons, depend on horizontal labour.
Without care, this digital ecosystem will rot, so projects like the #OMN is one path to restoring balance. On the #maisntreamin paths, yes, regulation will come, It unthinkingly has to. Companies exploiting shared infrastructure without feeding it is theft – from the public, from the future, from the commons.
The message for outreach, is if we want digital tools that are public, trustworthy, sustainable, and resilient, then we must invest in the shared foundations. We must move from #stupidindividualism to collective stewardship. From extraction to maintenance. From shiny platforms to compostable infrastructure.
The #OMN hashtag story gives us a language, the codebases give us the tools, the community gives us the power, now we need the crew to sprout the seeds. Let’s build the public digital foundations before they collapse beneath us.
Outreach for the #OMN path, for the past year, the hashtag story has taken shape, not as branding, not as marketing, but as a shared language for navigating the mess we’re in. Each tag is compost: lived experience, memory of struggle, lessons from broken movements, glimpses of collective futures. Together they form a map of where we have been and the ground we are trying to rebuild.
This story is now done enough to act as a tool: a framework that connects all the projects, all the struggles, all the seeds of the #openweb still alive beneath the concrete of the #dotcons. It is the cultural layer that makes the technical layer possible.
But culture alone doesn’t run servers. Ideas alone don’t federate. And stories alone don’t build the future. We are at the point where the #OMN needs hands, skills, and messy collaboration to move from compost to sprouts.
Why this matters now, the last decades have been dominated by #stupidindividualism, a value system that believes progress comes from isolated actors, personal brands, and vertical structures. It produced a brittle world where resilience is outsourced, where every commons is pushed to monetise, and where the #deathcult logic of extraction is treated as “normal.”
Our work – the hashtag ecosystem, the #4opens, the #OGB, the #OMN – is a counter-current. Not a product, not an app, not a platform chasing hype cycles, it is a path toward:
Public-first networks
Permissionless publishing
Collective governance
Local autonomy woven into global flows
This isn’t nostalgia, it’s urgently needed #KISS survival. If we do not rebuild horizontal infrastructure now, the coming decades of #climatechaos will be shaped entirely by closed systems, proprietary protocols, and “solutions” that cannot be questioned.
The Hashtag Story as outreach tool, the hashtag system functions as a shared vocabulary, a way for people to step into the conversation without needing insider history.
#stupidindividualism, #openweb, #deathcult, #climatechaos, #OMN, #OGB, #4opens, #techshit, #nothingnew. These are not memes, they’re a lexicon for agency. The next phase is to combine this cultural layer with working codebases. Once one of the #OMN implementations is stable, the hashtag-combination tools will become transformative. They allow:
networked meaning-making
distributed editorial processes
peer governance
cross-platform, public-first publishing
local instances that connect into a wider commons without central control
This is the infrastructure the last generation of movements never had. What is blocking? People and Resources, yes, the same old story, funding and people. Here in Oxford, the search for a tech crew hasn’t turned up much yet. The bigger truth is that many potential contributors are scattered, burnt out, or trapped inside the #dotcons economy where every hour of labour must be monetised.
But there are people out there who still believe in the commons. People who want to build rather than brand. People who understand that open infrastructure is not optional.
This manifesto is an invitation to those people. If you want to #KISS work on:
federated, non-corporate publishing
governance without gatekeepers
open metadata and community sorting
tools that strengthen movements instead of extracting from them
infrastructures that grow like ecosystems rather than like empires
Then the #OMN path is open, we are not looking for heroes, we are looking for collaborators, for people who can work in the open, for people who understand that messy is healthy, for people who know that compost is more valuable than hype.
If that’s you, step forward. Bring code, or time, or testing, or critique, or even just curiosity. The groundwork is laid, hashtags are seeded, what we need now is the crew to grow the next layer.
Let’s build the commons. Let’s reboot the #openweb. Let’s make the #OMN real.
What we are suffering from a shortage of collective pathways. The crisis we are walking into isn’t caused by a lack of charisma or vision at the top. It’s caused by the cultural trap we’ve built around individual solutions to systemic problems. #stupidindividualism – the obsession with personal leaders, personal brands, personal genius – is going to kill millions and displace billions over the next 20 years. Not because individuals are inherently harmful, but because individualism is the wrong tool for a collapsing world.
Vertical thinking can’t see horizontal realities. If your whole value system is built around leaders, ranks, and “key figures,” you will be blind to the commons, to networks, to peer processes, to messy collective agency. And this blindness is not neutral, it accelerates #climatechaos, feeds the #deathcult, and locks us into the same extractive paths that got us here in the first place.
The way forward isn’t another charismatic savior or another “hero innovator.” What we need is to balance collective pathways built from the ground up. Any working future needs:
Networks, not heroes. Because no single person can hold the complexity ahead.
Practices, not brands. Because technique and culture outlast personalities.
Open processes, not closed hierarchies. Because transparency is the only antidote to captured systems.
Shared governance, not managed optics. Because appearance won’t save us, but participation might.
Messy, compostable infrastructures, not shiny hype machines. Because real change grows from what we renew, reuse, and reimagine, not what we market.
This thinking points toward the #OMN, not as a product, not as a platform, not as “the next big thing,” but as a path. A way of organising, publishing, coordinating, and governing that is native to the horizontal world we actually live in. A way to compost the #techshit and grow something more real.
We don’t need better leaders, we need better collectives, we need spaces where the horizontal becomes visible again. And we need them now.
The #mainstreaming has a crap story, they say that the crisis of communication – the noise, the chaos, the misinformation, the anxiety – can only be solved by “returning to trusted sources.” They will argue that decentralized media is dangerous, that the “wild internet” must be cleaned up, that only vetted, official voices should have reach.
They will say that decentralized paths, all horizontal spaces are inevitably viral cesspools, and that our #openweb native podcasts, newsletters, open blogs, fedi servers are similer unregulated contamination. The growing fascism, in the end, will push that non-institutional voices are a threat to public order. That public conversation must be brought back under professional management, them.
The line will be simple: “Let the experts speak. Everyone else, sit down.” This is the predictable response of a broken society that lost control of its own narratives. And yes, they are right about one thing, that Big Tech is a sewer. The #dotcons profit from rage, division, algorithmic sewage, and emotional manipulation. Their business model is engineered disinformation. They are the factories of mess we live in.
But the establishment’s mistake, or more accurately, their strategic convenient lie, is pretending we, the #openweb, are the same, we are not. The #fediverse is not Facebook, Podcasts are not TikTok, Blogs and newsletters are not X, the #openweb is not #AlgoMedia.
We are: human-scale, chronological, transparent, open-process, community governed, non-addictive, non-manipulative. Decentralized media is not chaos – it is plurality. The messy public – not the polished elitists – speaking in many voices.
The establishment wants a return to vertical media because they cannot see horizontal people. Their value system literally blinds them. They believe discourse must be orderly, top-down, fact-checked by institutions that have long since been captured by the #deathcult of capital and careerism.
The problem is not that too many people speak, the problem is that too few people have been allowed to listen. The #OMN is the seedling of the opposite vision, many small voices, widely distributed, human editorial networks, community amplification and messy compostable infrastructure. The fedi, podcasts, blogs, newsletters – these are not the disease. They are the immune system emerging in response to the disease.
The establishment sees disorder, we see a rewilding,
They see danger, we see a necessary correction.
They see fragmentation, we see a path back to collective agency.
Not only that, but the current #mainstreaming are desperate to recentralize the narrative because decentralization breaks their #deathcult monopole on truth, framing, and attention. The people do not need saving from themselves, they need saving from the system that hijacked their voices. They need a native path that is open, messy, federated, to push compostable public media, where trust is earned through transparency, not authority.
The Genoa G8 Summit protests, held from July 18 to 22, 2001, were a turning point in the global justice movement. More than 200,000 people converged on the medieval port city to block the summit and challenge the concentrated power of the world’s richest nations. A gathering of the #deathcult ideology, grinding the planet into dust for profit.
For many of us, the G8 represented everything wrong with the world: an unelected body shaping economic and social policy for billions without legitimacy, accountability, or consent. We travelled to Genoa not as isolated activists but as a living ecosystem of movements, anarchists, trade unionists, farmers, climate campaigners, media collectives, migrants’ rights groups, students, pacifists, the lot. We were there to resist and to build alternatives in the cracks.
Arriving in a besieged city, Genoa a few days before the demonstrations to help set up the Media Centre, for grassroots reporting. Genoa, though, felt nothing like a holiday town. Police were everywhere. Riot vans on street corners. Helicopters thudding overhead. The convergence centre was being built on the beach; just 100 yards away from the stadium, where police forces were massing in their thousands. Walking around felt like moving inside a tightening fist.
We slept in the camper van that first night, tucked beside a half-built marquee. At dawn, we joined the organisers at the Diaz school, the building that housed both the Genoa Social Forum and the Media Centre.
We requisition two PCs from other rooms, installed video editing softwer, and turned them into the only two shared editing stations in the building. One was upgraded with a new hard drive and FireWire card for DV footage, not that it mattered, because it broke on day two and never recovered. The analogue capture system we had brought did most of the work that went online.
On one of our first reporting trips, filming outside the police barracks beside the convergence centre, we were detained by undercover cops. More arrived. Then more. Ten or twelve by the end. They demanded our tapes. I refused. They checked our documents, questioned us for hours, and released us without charge. I secretly filmed some of them; two would resurface later outside the IMC on the night of the raid.
Driving around the city to document the expanding “red zone” – the militarised area blocking off the summit – we were detained twice more. Civil rights meant nothing here. The police behaved like a sovereign power unto themselves. That Orwellian twinge – the sense that you are inside a lawless machine – grew stronger every day.
When the City Turned Red. Then one protester, Carlo Giuliani, was shot dead by police. Fear rippled across the city. The IMC became a space threaded with arguments about what to do. People drifted away, hour by hour, some deciding the risks were too great. By midnight the centre had half emptied.
Then the screams came: “THE POLICE ARE COMING!”
Looking out the window, I saw nothing at first. Panic surged anyway, people barricading doors, grabbing bags, racing up staircases. Marion moved the archive tapes to the hiding place I’d scouted earlier: the water tower on the roof.
From the rooftop I filmed carabinieri smashing into the building next door, the Diaz Pertini school, with vans and sledgehammers. Chairs were used to break windows. Tables became battering rams. It was happening fast, shockingly fast. Then I saw them entering our stairwell.
The Diaz Raid: Running for Our Lives. I headed downstairs to check if the Media Centre itself was being stormed. Turning the stairwell corner, I came face-to-face with a fully armoured carabiniere charging upward, truncheon raised, panting with adrenaline. I spun and bolted. Two flights up, shouting, “They’re in the building!” I sprinted to the roof and slipped into the tower.
Inside the darkness, I whispered for Marion. No answer. I crept through the corridor of water tanks, lit only by the IR beam from my camera. Finally a small, terrified voice: “Turn the light off.” She had hidden behind the last tank, clutching tapes and equipment.
For hours, three, maybe four, we lay silent as the helicopter’s spotlight swept the windows. Police boots thudded across the roof. Below us, the city echoed with screams, crashes, and the chanted word “ASSASSINI.”
When the helicopter finally left, we emerged. The rooftop was scattered with stunned survivors. Downstairs, the destruction was total. Computers smashed. Hard drives ripped out. Doors hanging loose. The walls of the Diaz school across the street were painted with blood. Skin and hair stuck to corners. Piles of clothing soaked red. People moving like ghosts.
The Carabinieri had left their calling card.
What happened inside that school, was not policing. It was torture, humiliation, and fascist ritual. Ninety-three sleeping demonstrators were beaten so badly that the floors resembled a slaughterhouse. People hiding under tables or sleeping in bags were clubbed unconscious. A 65-year-old woman’s arm was broken. One student needed surgery for brain bleeding. Others had their teeth kicked out. One officer cut clumps of hair from victims as trophies.
Those who survived were taken to Bolzaneto detention centre, where the abuse continued: beatings, stress positions, pepper spray, threats of rape, and forced chants of “Viva il Duce!” and “Viva Pinochet!” A systematic, organised brutality. This wasn’t loss of control, it was ideology.
Aftermath: Truth in the Ruins. The Italian state tried to bury it all. But survivors, lawyers, journalists, and prosecutors fought for years. The European Court of Human Rights eventually ruled that Italy had committed grave human rights violations. But almost none of the officers served jail time. Politicians escaped entirely.
The police weren’t out of control. They were following a logic, the logic of protecting eliteists power against democratic dissent. The logic of the #deathcult. The logic that treats people as obstacles, not citizens. Genoa showed the world what happens when movements gain too much momentum: the mask drops.
And still, in that chaos, seeds were planted – #indymedia, #OMN, the global justice movement, the early #openweb – messy, hopeful, compost for future uprisings.
