The ecological crisis is not a failure of technology, it’s a failure of values. We’ve been trapped in a toxic loop where growth = progress, where every solution must expand markets, increase consumption, and generate profit for the #nastyfew. This logic is killing the planet.
A #4opens world pulls up this mess at its root. Digital goods are different, they are non-rivalrous, freely replicable, and infinitely shareable. When knowledge, culture, and coordination move into open digital commons, the material basis of economic growth begins to shrink. We stop burning forests to print manuals, stop shipping plastic widgets to lock in artificial scarcity, stop wasting energy enforcing ownership where none is needed.
This isn’t abstraction, it’s leverage. By shifting value creation into open digital abundance, we reduce pressure on physical extraction. Fewer things need to be manufactured, shipped, stored, and discarded just to keep the economy “growing.” The economy stops pretending that more stuff equals better lives.
From this shift, the real ecological transformation we need becomes possible. Energy systems localise because coordination and design are shared openly. Communities can build, adapt, and maintain renewable infrastructure without licensing fees or corporate lock-in. Circular economies flourish because repair knowledge, supply chains, and governance are commons, not trade secrets. Waste becomes compost, not externality.
Most importantly, culture changes. Consumerism loses its grip when identity, creativity, and social meaning are no longer mediated by buying things from platforms. We stop confusing consumption with participation. We stop mistaking marketing for culture. Life becomes something we do together, not something we rent from #dotcons.
This is not a retreat to austerity, it’s an expansion of possibility. In a post-consumption world, human needs can be met without destroying the biosphere. Care, knowledge, coordination, and creativity grow, while extraction and throughput shrink. The planet breathes again because we’ve learned to value abundance where it exists, and restraint where it matters.
The #OMN path is not “green capitalism” with better branding, it’s a civilisational pivot: using digital abundance to escape the growth trap, and using collective governance to align human flourishing with ecological limits.
That’s not incremental reform, it survival – with dignity.
One of the most repeated mantras in #FOSS culture goes something like this: “If you don’t like it, just fork it.”On the surface, this sounds empowering. And technically, it is true. The beauty of open source is that you can take the Mastodon source code, fork it, and do whatever you want with it. Don’t like how it’s run? Do something different. Don’t like the branding? Change it. Got a better idea? Implement it.
But socially, this mantra is misleading, forking is easy, sustaining is hard. Forking code is cheap, sustaining a living project is not. What “just fork it” quietly ignores is that software is only a small part of what makes a project work. The hard parts are social: users, trust, shared norms, governance, maintenance, conflict resolution and long-term care.
When people say “just fork it,” they usually mean “remove yourself from the social problem rather than engaging with it.” That’s not empowerment – it’s fragmentation at best and prat behaver at worst.
From an #OMN point of view, sometimes this is needed, but its rare as it is mostly value destruction. Fragmentation isn’t neutrality, every fork splits attention, energy, documentation, user bases, and developer time. Most forks don’t die because the code is bad; they die because the social surface area is untrusted or unmanageable.
We end up with: dozens of half-maintained projects, duplicated effort, incompatible implementations, project communities too small to support themselves. This isn’t resilience, it’s entropy, not in a good way. And worse, most of these forks are isolated socially, even when they are technically compatible. The result is lost value, lost history, and lost trust – rinse, repeat, move on.
“Just fork it” hides power, it doesn’t challenge it. The slogan pretends to be anti-authority, but in practice it is used to protect informal power. Core teams stay untouched, governance questions are avoided, structural problems remain unresolved. The people most affected – users, moderators, small contributors – are quietly told to leave and rebuild everything from scratch.
That’s not openness, that’s abdication, it’s a prat move that we need to compost. In social terms, it’s the equivalent of saying: “If you don’t like society, go start your own civilisation.” Contribution is not about submission. There is a healthier, but, less glamorous path – start conversations that include people you disagree with, yes, this is slower than forking. It’s also how shared infrastructure survives.
What we need to talk more about is that contribution is not about obedience to maintainers. It’s about stewardship of commons. That means staying in the mess, mediating conflict, and resisting the urge to walk away every time something feels wrong. Forking skips the hardest step: collective sense-making.
Small steps beat heroic exits, the myth of the heroic fork mirrors the wider #geekproblem: the belief that technical control can replace social process. Change usually comes from boring work, partial wins, awkward compromises, long conversations, incremental shifts, not from dramatic exits. Yes, forks in #FOSS have a place, but not as a default. Forking does matter. It’s an escape hatch. A pressure valve. A last resort when projects become irredeemably captured or hostile. But when “just fork it” becomes the first response instead of the last, it stops being a freedom and becomes #geekproblem pathology.
From a social #OMN standpoint, the goal isn’t endless new projects. It’s shared infrastructure that can be argued with, adapted, and cared for over time. Open source gives us the right to fork, open culture asks us when not to. If we want something better than endless reinvention and burnout, we need to stop treating “just fork it” as wisdom – and start treating it as what it often is: a refusal to do the harder social work in #FOSS
Fascism, treats collaboration as weakness. Something you only (pretend to) do when you’re not strong enough to dominate outright. In the fascist worldview, cooperation isn’t power, it’s a temporary tactic until hierarchy and force can be re-asserted. That’s why fascists can never be trusted. Not tactically, not strategically, not “just this once.” They don’t believe in shared outcomes, public goods, or mutual care. They believe in command, obedience, and extraction.
We also touch on this in our own #geekproblm, this is why the #OMNline is drawn. Open Media, commons-based infrastructure, and collective governance only work if collaboration is real, if participation isn’t a trick, and if power actually flows horizontally. Fascist politics is structurally incompatible with this. It can mimic collaboration, but only as camouflage. The moment it has leverage, it closes processes, centralises control, and purges dissent.
We have now made such a mess of society and our ecology that getting out of this mess is going to create lots of new mess, this issue is the base of the democratic path of the #OGB project. Please don’t be a prat on this, because this is also why fascism always collapses. Systems built on domination can’t sustain themselves, they can’t maintain shared infrastructure or produce trust, care, and resilience. They can only hoard, police, and coerce, until the system eats itself.
Meanwhile, everyone else survives by doing the one thing fascism cannot: building together. Collective projects, mutual aid, shared media, and public knowledge create abundance through cooperation. They scale through trust, not fear, and grow because people see themselves in the outcome.
In the long run, fascism doesn’t lose because it’s defeated by force alone, it loses because it refuses to participate in the commons. It isolates itself, hardens, and withers, while networked, cooperative cultures keep building better lives in the open.
That’s the wager of #OMN: Not domination, but participation, not hierarchy, but shared process, not spectacle, but collective power. Fascism cannot survive in that terrain.
The #OMN is a good-faith project, so let’s begin from that assumption. I don’t value the mainstreaming direction of this podcast, but it is still a useful thinking point when considering our project outlines. It highlights the pressures and narratives that open projects eventually have to navigate when we deliberately choose a diversity of paths rather than a single, optimised one.
Yes, it is always possible to game any system, including those built on trust. That risk never disappears. The difference with trust-based projects is not that they are immune to gaming, but that they consciously refuse to optimise around it. Instead, they rely on serendipity, social norms, shared myths, and lived traditions to provide balance when people do start to “play the game.” These informal constraints matter more than formal rules, because they shape behaviour without hardening into control systems.
This is the tension space #OMN operates in: resisting the urge to over-engineer against bad faith, while nurturing cultures in which bad faith becomes costly, visible, and socially discouraged rather than mechanically policed. In this transition, we will have to rethink almost everything we take for granted.
Why do we work so much in jobs that drain us without creating real value?
Why do we compete when cooperation would make life easier, richer, and more sustainable?
Why is everything treated as a secret – data, knowledge, even culture – and why are we trained to distrust each other at every turn?
Capitalism naturalised its own ideology. It taught us that exploitation is inevitable, that scarcity is absolute, and that hierarchy is a fact of nature. Profit was framed as virtuous, generosity as naïve. Over decades, this conditioning became “common sense.” We internalised it until it became invisible, shaping our behaviour, our policies, and even our dreams.
The #4opens world undoes this conditioning. By making infrastructure, code, governance, and knowledge open and accessible, it forces us to see the assumptions capitalism presented as natural for what they really are. We begin to recognise that scarcity can be artificial, that competition is socially engineered, and that secrecy primarily serves power, not communities.
In this context, our old “common sense” becomes a prison. The rules we followed without question – work harder, own more, hoard, extract – no longer hold. Open systems teach us that cooperation, sharing, and transparency are not just ethical ideals; they are practical tools for living and thriving together.
Open thinking makes new realities possible. When knowledge, governance, and infrastructure are transparent and modifiable, we can ask new questions, and act on them collectively:
What if work were aligned with care, creativity, and social need rather than profit for the few?
What if trust replaced fear as the default in our networks?
What if data abundance, rather than scarcity, became the starting point for planning society?
Reclaiming “common sense” in this way is not abstract philosophy. It is a practical, political, and social act. It means noticing the invisible rules that keep us trapped, and then designing systems that embed fairness, resilience, and collaboration into the foundations of everyday life. The transition will not be easy. It requires questioning almost everything we were taught about “how the world works.” But it is necessary if we want to survive the current mess of exploitation, artificial scarcity, and isolation.
The #4opens give us the tools. The commons give us the space. Open thinking gives us the courage. Together, they allow us to redefine what “common sense” really means, and to build a world that is more humane, more resilient, and more just than the one we inherited.
I hope this helps us keep finding the “native” path.
We need to be explicit that spiky and fluffy are complementary, not opposing paths. They serve different functions in the same path, both are necessary for anything healthy to grow.
The problem is not disagreement between spiky and fluffy. The problem is the large number of people who actively fight against this complementarity – who insist on one mode being legitimate, and work to exclude and delegitimise the other.
This is the majority of people we end up interacting with. So until we name this clearly, we keep misdiagnosing the conflict. It isn’t about tone, strategy, or culture. It’s about a refusal to accept plurality, balance, and context – that refusal blocks progress far more effectively than any external opposition.
Spiky without fluffy becomes brittle and exclusionary.
Fluffy without spiky becomes easily captured and ineffective.
Together, they create resilience. For the #OMN and #openweb to survive, we have to stop treating this as a personality clash and start recognising it as a structural issue that needs active mediation, not denial and #blocking
A bunch of native #openweb people spent real time, energy, and focus pushing the #EU toward the #Fediverse. This wasn’t theoretical, it wasn’t speculative, it wasn’t a #NGO whitepaper or a #VC funding pitch. It was practical outreach, grounded in working technology and lived experience, aimed at reducing Europe’s dependency on centralized corporate platforms.
The webinars mattered, they demonstrated that EU institutions were genuinely open to #ActivityPub as a viable public infrastructure standard, not as a niche hobby project, but as a way to regain institutional and civic agency without defaulting to US-based platforms.
This is the work we needed more of, but this kind of engagement is slow, unglamorous, and politically awkward. It doesn’t fit VC startup narratives or revolutionary aesthetics. But it is the work required if Europe wants digital sovereignty without surrendering to #BigTech or reinventing the same centralized failures under an #EU flag.
So the obvious question is: what went wrong? Drift, fragmentation, and the return of the #dotcons. Instead of consolidating that momentum, the grassroots fractured, attention drifted, energy leaked away, people burned out or moved on. In the end, outreach was blocked from both sides
And then slowly, predictably, attention returned to the familiar #dotcons, because they are easy, visible, and culturally dominant. They offer the illusion of reach without the substance of agency, in the long run, this is just more #techshit to compost later.
#SocialHub itself documents much of this history. The discussions are there, the threads exist, the intent is visible. But there is little aggregation, little synthesis, and almost no narrative continuity. For anyone not already embedded, it’s hard to see what mattered, what succeeded, and what was quietly blocked or abandoned.
Because we didn’t document, curate, and repeat this story, the same myths keep resurfacing:
“The EU was never interested.”
“Federation can’t work at institutional scale.”
“There were no serious alternatives.”
“Centralized platforms are the only realistic option.”
None of these are true – but they feel true when history is missing. When people don’t know that EU–Fediverse outreach already happened, when they don’t know that viable alternatives already exist, when they don’t know that these paths were actively neglected rather than disproven.
Then people fall – again and again – for the #dotcons mess, believing it’s the only possible future. This matters now, as focus shifts back to tech change, and is exactly why #OMN, #indymediaback, #makinghistory, and #OGB exist, not as competing platforms, not as replacements for everything else, but as infrastructure for memory, communication, and accountability.
Before we argue about funding models, platforms, or scale, we need to get the ordering right:
History — to remember what already worked and what failed, and why
Media — to tell the story properly, in our own words
Governance — to keep power visible, contestable, and rooted in trust rather than myth
Without these, attempts at “European digital sovereignty” will reproduce the same capture dynamics under a different logo. Telling the story is political work, if we don’t tell our story, someone else will, and it won’t be told in our interests. It will be told as inevitability, as market logic, as “there was no alternative.” That story always ends the same way: more centralization, more dependency, more enclosure – followed by another round of cleanup and composting.
We already did part of the hard work, we opened doors, we proved viability. What’s missing is not only technology – it’s memory, narrative, and continuity. Until we fix that, Europe will keep mistaking amnesia for realism, and surrender for pragmatism.
To be fully human is to be empowered to live a meaningful life within society.
To be rendered sub-human is to be forced into powerlessness outside of it.
We are not isolated individuals who later “join” society. We are social creators. We make meaning together, and that meaning only exists where people have the power to act, to speak, and to shape the world around them. Remove that power, and what remains is survival, not life.
From this perspective, there is really only one political question that matters: How is power shared inside society? Every political ideology is, at its core, an answer to this question – even when it pretends to be about markets, morals, tradition, or efficiency.
Invisible power today lives in metadata. In the digital age, social power increasingly resides in metadata: who is visible, who is connected, who is amplified, who is silenced, who is predicted, who is categorised, who is excluded.
Metadata determines access to work, housing, speech, legitimacy, mobility, and safety. It shapes behaviour not by force alone, but by nudging, filtering, ranking, and erasing. Control metadata, and you control society’s nervous system.
At present, there are four broad answers to the question of who should hold this power.
Capitalism seeks to privatise metadata into the hands of corporations – the #dotcons. Platforms harvest social data, enclose it, and convert it into profit and leverage. In turn, capital uses this leverage to shape governments, laws, and public discourse.
This is why fascism is coming back into fashion. Once corporations control social coordination, the state becomes an enforcement arm rather than a democratic counterweight. Surveillance, repression, and exclusion follow naturally. This is not a failure of capitalism; it is its logical outcome.
State Communism: Metadata for the Government
Chinese-style state communism takes the opposite approach but reaches a similar destination. Metadata is centralised in the hands of the state, which uses it to discipline capital and population alike.
This is the command economy rebuilt with digital tools – total visibility, behavioural scoring, and algorithmic governance at scale. Capital is controlled, but society is tightly managed. Power flows vertically. Dissent becomes data noise to be corrected.
Liberalism: Metadata for the Individual
Liberalism proposes a third answer: metadata should belong to the individual. Each person owns their data, controls their privacy, and participates in a market of informed choice.
This vision rests on a mythic past that never existed – a free market of equals making rational decisions with perfect information. In practice, individuals cannot meaningfully manage complex data systems alone. Power does not disappear; it simply re-aggregates through contracts, platforms, and inequality.
Individualised data ownership becomes another abstraction that fails to challenge structural power.
Anarchism: Metadata for the Commons
So what does anarchism want? This is where #4opens and the Open Media Network (#OMN) enter the picture. Anarchism does not seek to privatise metadata to corporations, centralise it in the state, or atomise it to individuals. It seeks to socialise metadata into the commons, governed openly, transparently, and collectively.
Power is shared horizontally, not concentrated vertically. Metadata becomes a tool for coordination, care, and accountability – not domination. Communities can see how systems work, adapt them, and challenge them without asking permission.
This is not utopian. It is infrastructural. It is about building systems that make cooperation easier than coercion.
The real choice is not “AI vs humans,” or “state vs market.” It is about who controls the metadata that shapes our lives. Do we accept systems that render us powerless spectators? Or do we build shared infrastructures that keep us fully human – capable of meaning, agency, and collective action?
#OMN is not a finished answer. It is an attempt to walk this last path seriously, in practice, not just in theory. Because to be human is not just to exist, it is to have power together.
A cohesive manifesto is needed as the world we inherited is fractured. Wealth, power, and knowledge are concentrated in the hands of the #nastyfew: platform owners, data hoarders, and corporate monopolies who extract value from our work, our attention, and our trust. Democracy has been hollowed out, captured and controlled by algorithms that decide what is knowable, profitable, and even true. Ecology, community, and care are sacrificed on the #deathcult altar of growth and consumption.
In this mess, the Open Media Network (#OMN) is a #KISS project that exists to reclaim the digital commons, reshape society, and redefine what is possible when power, knowledge, and technology are returned to the people.
In the current #dotcons economy, access to infrastructure, information, and governance is rent-based and extractive. Communities pay to participate, and the surplus flows to distant shareholders.
The #4opens – open code, open governance, open data, open processes – upend this system. Putting tools of creation and coordination into grassroots democratic, collective stewardship. Value no longer flows automatically upward; it stays with the communities that generate it.
On this path, inequality stops being “natural.” Rich and poor are revealed as structural outcomes of enclosure and extraction. By reclaiming infrastructure as a commons, we recompose power, and inequality becomes a historical memory, not a permanent fact.
The logic of capitalism equates growth with progress, but infinite growth on a finite planet is impossible. Digital goods – knowledge, code, culture, and coordination – are non-rivalrous, replicable, and shareable. By moving value into open, digital abundance, the material basis of economic expansion shrinks.
This frees human effort to focus on ecological outcomes. Energy systems can localise, circular economies can flourish, and extraction-driven industries can shrink. Consumerism no longer masquerades as culture. Life becomes about care, collaboration, and sustainability. In a post-consumption economy, human needs are met without destroying the biosphere
What we need to compost is the closed, corporate networks, that, reduce people to metrics: clicks, views, and engagement scores, where connection is commodified, communities dissolve into attention economies. Moving to #4opens networks reverse this. Open, modifiable, and transparent paths and systems allow communities to rebuild trust, care, and reciprocity. Collaboration happens without permission, and relationships can persist across distance and time. Communities stop belonging to brands and start belonging to people. Social infrastructure becomes a tool for power and resilience rather than extraction.
The capitalist world naturalised exploitation, scarcity, and secrecy. Our “common sense” became a prison: work more, compete, hoard, distrust. The #4opens world undoes this conditioning. Open infrastructure and governance teach us that scarcity is artificial, cooperation is powerful, and secrecy serves control, not communities. Common sense is no longer what capitalism told us, it is what we collectively choose, this open thinking makes new realities possible.
The transitory shaping of privacy as we imagined it is gone, the #dotcons and surveillance states already see everything. Closed systems cannot protect us; secrecy is a lost battle. The solution is radical transparency. Open metadata, and commons-based governance shift power away from hidden extractors and toward the public. Privacy becomes collective control over visibility: who sees what, and with what accountability. In this world, transparency is justice, and knowledge is a tool of liberation.
In a #4opens world, exchange is no longer driven solely by money. Scarcity loses its grip when knowledge, code, and infrastructure are freely shared. Value can be recognized, tracked, and distributed openly. We give not to accumulate, but to re-balance. Contribution is measured in social and ecological impact, not profit. Capitalism made money sacred; #4opens break that spell, opening paths to redistribute both material and social power.
The next bubble, current #AI – #LLMs and ML #systems – is not intelligent. There is no path from these tools to general intelligence. What exists is pattern-matching, statistical correlation, and corporate extraction of public knowledge. But handing locked-up data to corporate systems strengthens anti-democracy structures. Instead of enabling “innovation”, it reinforces surveillance, centralisation, and algorithmic control. Real intelligence is collective, embodied, and social. True change and challenge emerges not from hype bubbles or closed corporate labs, but from communities building shared knowledge and infrastructure in the open.
Fascism vs. Cooperation – Fascism treats collaboration as weakness, hierarchy as inevitable, and domination as the only path to power. It cannot be trusted and cannot survive in open, cooperative networks. The #OMN path is the opposite: power through participation, resilience through trust, and flourishing through shared infrastructure. Communities that cooperate can sustain themselves, adapt, and grow, while isolationist, extractive paths, systems and tools wither. Cooperation is not optional, it is the foundation of any path to security, survival, and progress.
The choice before us, the world we inherited, is extractive, enclosed, and unsustainable. But the tools to reclaim power, knowledge, and community already exist. In #FOSS, the #4opens – applied to infrastructure, governance, culture, and knowledge – allow us to reduce inequality structurally, not through charity, but with rebuilding social trust and care, aligning human activity with ecological limits to make knowledge a public good, not a corporate asset.
Open Media Network is not a platform. It is a social path, to a world where power is distributed, knowledge is shared, and society is governed by the people who live in it. We are not asking for permission. We are building the commons, the question is not whether we can succeed, the question is whether we will choose to. History will remember what we did in this moment.
Why do we need to be this change and challange – when the vertical stack is captured, this is not simply a “shift to the right” in technology, ideas, or voting patterns. It is something deeper and far more dangerous: the capture of institutions themselves, the state as infrastructure. What we are witnessing is the hard right learning how to weaponise liberal, vertical systems against the values those systems claime to uphold.
This capture runs all the way down the stack. From the #dotcons to national governments and regulatory bodies; from university chancellors to local councils; from courts to media regulators. Structures that were designed – at least rhetorically – to mediate power are being repurposed as tools of repression, exclusion, and control.
Crucially, this is done using the language and procedures of liberalism itself: law and order, efficiency, neutral administration, security, common sense. The shell remains liberal. The content is no longer so.
Vertical systems are inherently brittle. They concentrate authority, normalise hierarchy, and rely on trust in institutions rather than participation in decision-making. When functioning well, they can stabilise society. When captured, they become perfect instruments for authoritarianism.
Once the hard right gains control of vertical institutions, it does not need to abolish democracy outright. Instead, it quietly redefines who counts, who is heard, and who is excluded. Algorithms are shaped. Funding rules tightened. Governance boards reshuffled. Enforcement priorities rewritten. Dissent is hollowed out while everything is insisted to be “within the rules.”
Universities become compliance factories. Local councils become enforcement arms. NGOs are defunded or disciplined. Media becomes “responsible.” Protest becomes “extremism.” This is not a breakdown of the liberal system, it is the system functioning as designed, but for different ends.
A dangerous illusion persists: that when the political pendulum swings back, these systems can simply be “returned to normal.” History tells us otherwise. Once vertical systems are captured, they are extremely difficult to bring back to any liberal-centrist path. Rules have been rewritten. Personnel replaced. Norms broken. Trust eroded. Appeals to fairness or precedent no longer land, because the system’s function has shifted from mediation to domination.
This is why “defending institutions” on its own is not enough. Institutions built on vertical authority cannot defend themselves once their legitimacy has been repurposed. At that point, asking them to save democracy is like asking a locked door to open itself from the outside.
Why horizontal power matters, and grassroots, federated power stops being a nice idea and becomes a necessary tool of change. Horizontal systems – commons-based networks, federated media, open governance, mutual aid, cooperative infrastructure – do not depend on permission from captured institutions. They distribute power, knowledge, and coordination across communities instead of concentrating it at the top.
In #OMN terms, this is about balancing power, not fantasising about purity, collapse, or revolution-as-spectacle. When vertical power becomes hostile, horizontal power provides resilience. It creates parallel capacities for communication, care, legitimacy, and collective action.
Federated systems are harder to capture because they have no single choke point. They can route around repression. They can survive attacks. They can continue to function even when formal institutions turn against the people they claim to represent.
We should be clear-eyed about where this leads. When vertical systems are captured and horizontal power is absent, pressure builds. History shows the likely outcomes: civil unrest, civil war, or international intervention. These are not abstract risks. They are structural consequences of power being monopolised without legitimacy.
Building horizontal power is not about accelerating conflict. It is about reducing the likelihood of catastrophic collapse by giving societies non-violent ways to rebalance power. When people have no voice, no access, and no agency, conflict becomes inevitable. When people can organise, communicate, and build alternatives, escalation can be resisted.
Its the strategic choice, the question is no longer whether horizontal power is desirable. The question is whether we build it before the remaining liberal structures are fully repurposed against us. The Open Media Network, the #4opens, federated governance, and open knowledge are not ideological luxuries. They are infrastructure for democratic survival in a world where vertical systems are increasingly hostile.
We are entering a period where balance – not dominance – will determine whether societies fracture or adapt. Horizontal power is what remains when the state forgets who it is meant to serve. Then the future will not be decided by who controls the top of the stack, but by whether people at the edges still have the means to organise, to speak, and to act together.
And that is a fight worth taking seriously, while there is still time.
Let’s look at a current issue that is in the news. The Americas have long been treated as a natural U.S. sphere of influence. From early Monroe Doctrine interventions to modern political pressure, the region has been viewed as a geopolitical backyard. Today, with Trump and MAGA pushing renewed U.S. dominance, countries in the region face stark choices: resist, align, or integrate into alternative power structures.
The elitist foreign policy message is blunt: secure U.S. primacy in its hemisphere. For Latin American nations, this translates into pressure on trade, security agreements, and political alignment. Economic coercion and direct military action ensures that Washington tolerates no rival power. Nations are either “on the table” with the U.S. or “on the menu.” As the resent actions in Venezuela shows this is not theoretical, the current geopolitical mess is actively pushing realignment. Latin America cannot afford to wait passively in Washington’s shadow, they must push to act as equal players in a multipolar world.
The driving force behind this renewed mess is Trump’s appeal to disruption. He promises to expose the “deep state,” hold elites accountable, and reveal connections the system would rather hide. Central to this narrative is the saga of Jeffrey Epstein, not merely a story of sexual scandal, but a window into systemic flaws in U.S. political and economic structures.
Trump’s supporters rallied around promises to release files, expose corruption, and challenge entrenched elites. Yet, frustration grew when these promises went unfulfilled. Why? Because the Republican and Democratic establishments are two faces of the same system, bound by shared economic interests, financial incentives, and structural constraints. Trump may disrupt in style, but the underlying power of money and influence remains dominant.
Observers liken Russia to “a giant gas station disguised as a state.” The U.S. is equally artificial: “a giant corporation packaged as a country.” Its factions – Wall Street, Silicon Valley, the military-industrial complex – function like corporate departments pursuing profit and influence above public welfare.
The Epstein case reveals two truths. First, the U.S. system forces actors to operate through illicit or extra-legal channels to achieve objectives. Second, these shadow networks persist, shifting focus from national survival to maximizing elite power at society’s expense. Epstein and his network were not anomalies; they reflect a collective ethos of the financial and political class, where mutual protection and the pursuit of power override accountability and any public interest. In practice, money dominates governance.
Trump’s struggles with Epstein files, and his unfulfilled promises, expose a messy reality: American political power is subordinate to financial power. The #MAGA base seeks disruption, but structural flaws – subordination to money, fragmented institutions, entrenched networks – ensure continuity, not change. The lesson is clear: individuals matter less than the systems that shape societies. Epstein is a mirror reflecting decades of dysfunction of unaccountable power, which always tries to find a way of self-preservation.
Historically, by the late 20th century, U.S. decision-making increasingly served elitist financial interests rather than any public welfare. Power is privatized, corporations, banks, and tech companies operated globally with more influence than elected officials. Media and entertainment reinforced the myth of American exceptionalism, masking the nasty rot we all smell today.
Fast-forward: infrastructure decays, inequality shapes democracy, and geopolitical overreach drains resources while sowing instability abroad. Financial dominance is a trap. What we are seeing now is that short-term advantage of prioritizing money over human welfare eventually fails socially, environmentally, and politically.
The structural mess in the U.S. – inefficiency, financial dominance, and overreach – doesn’t exist in isolation. It ripples globally, fuelling ecological collapse, social instability, and geopolitical crises. Global dominance built on US short-term advantage now amplifies globe systemic fragility. We face, climate disasters increase migration and resource conflicts; inequality that erodes collective response and political polarization and financial concentration block any meaningful reform.
So what can we do? For alternatives, the lesson is urgent: systems-first thinking is essential. Resilient infrastructure, distributed governance, and adaptive processes matter more than relying on individuals or short-term wins. Localized action paired with global awareness creates networks rooted in communities but informed by global interconnections. Transparency and accountability prevent shadow networks from embedding fragility.
This is where movements like #OMN and frameworks like the Open Governance Body (#OGB) come into play. They model resilient, permissionless, decentralized networks:
Transparent decision-making ensures accountability without central policing.
Horizontal engagement with lightweight coordination outperforms rigid hierarchies under stress.
Decentralized media (#indymediaback) feeds local stories into federated networks, resisting co-option.
Iterative, adaptive growth – test, fail, adapt – turns mess into learning and redundancy, building resilience rather than fragility.
Practical principles for grassroots networks:
Distributed communication systems: Coordination survives disruption.
Layered decision-making: Local autonomy with broader coordination.
Resource buffers: Food, water, energy, knowledge accessible to communities.
Graceful degradation: Even if parts fails, the system endures. These networks are not utopian. They scale horizontally, embed ethics into their structures, and grow through “composting” rather than conquest by absorbing lessons from failure while remaining adaptable.
In short, we need to focus on what matters, not the surface mess of Epstein and daily #MAGA insanity, the Trump show is noise when we need to be focusing on signal.
The future belongs to paths and networks that embrace mess and nurture resilience, not centralizing powers clinging to short-term dominance. The work now is to create #KISS paths that survive – and even thrive – amid global crises.
Consensus matters – but it’s so hard – collective projects, media, activism and infrastructure require a minimum level of agreement about what the problem is. Not total agreement, but enough shared reality to coordinate sustainable action. Without some form of shared external social truth, progressive projects do not move at all, this is not always because people are malicious, but more often because they are no longer standing on any shared ground. This mess, is a problem, as it means needed paths keep being blocked.
We are living in a post-truth world, but that phrase hides the real problem. The deeper issue is that too meany people are fighting private battles inside their own heads – about identity, status, belonging, fear, and control – and then projecting those battles onto the social world around them. These internal conflicts are treated as universal truths, so when challenged, they harden rather than soften, this is the mess we need to compost. This is why so many conversations that should lead to collective action instead collapse into friction, blinded misunderstanding, and burnout.
In the absence of this, every proposal becomes personal: Critique feels like attack, needed structure feels like control, boundaries feel like exclusion. The result is paralysis disguised as debate, it is not accidental, it is the #dotcons cultural outcome of decades of individualisation, platform capitalism, and algorithmic amplification of conflict. This created mess blocks any progress, including an inability to talk clearly about why existing systems fail, what we have to put up with is constant triggering of defensiveness and rejection.
Two recurring patterns surface here, the “geek problem”: an over-focus on tools, optimisation, and abstract purity, detached from any useful lived social reality. The “fashionista problem”: an over-focus on language, image, and alignment with dominant narratives, avoiding any useful structural conflict. The problem is that if you don’t see these patterns, the current media ecosystem mess looks “natural” and inevitable. If you do see them, the need for something like #OMN becomes much more obvious, thus the hashtag story as a tool some people might understand this path
Why this keeps turning into conflict, it is not really about tone, vocabulary, or even definitions. It is about where responsibility sits, some people want problems softened so they feel welcoming. Others insist problems must be named clearly, or they cannot be solved. Both impulses sometimes come from good places. But when clarity is treated as hostility, and comfort is treated as progress, nothing moves. People disengage, energy drains away, the needed projects stall.
This is all mixed up in a Chicken-and-Egg trap. Outreach is hard because #OMN deliberately refuses to do certain things: It avoids central control, it avoids “common sense” corporate mediation, it avoids vague and easy “platform” path promises. This makes it difficult to write promotional text without either: Over-promising things that don’t exist, or explaining constraints that sound negative without context. To try and compost this chicken-and-egg problem, we need shared understanding to communicate simply, but we need communication to build shared understanding. Can you see the mess from this?
We use hashtags as scaffolding for the needed social truth, not as slogans, but as scaffolding, lightweight markers that point to recurring structural issues: #geekproblem#fashernista#dotcons#blocking are not insults. They are shorthand for patterns that otherwise take pages to explain. But, without shared context, they are still easily misread as personal attacks. Again we face #blocking.
So what can actually help? If #OMN is to happen, we need to change how we resolve these moments of friction. Collective projects do not grow by consensus with everyone, so we need to build shared language gradually, not defensively, social truth is cultivated, not imposed. A first step is #KISS stop treating discomfort as failure, discomfort is often the signal that something real is being touched.
The hard truth, is that no one is obliged to participate, nobody has to do anything. But collective alternatives do not appear by magic. They are built by people willing to sit with tension long enough to let something shared emerge. OMN is an attempt to do that, to move from affinity groups from isolated personal wars toward media commons where cooperation is once again possible.
The #blocking is real, but so is the way through it, if we stop mistaking friction for hostility, and clarity for aggression. The work is not to be nicer, it is to be collective again.
From a #mainstreaming point of view, what people call “piracy” is not a simple moral failure, it’s rather a signal of systemic #dotcons failure. Again and again, across decades, people have shown a simple truth: When access is fair, affordable, and humane, people pay. When systems become extractive, people route around them.
This is not new, not edgy, it’s basic social behaviour. Before the Internet: we had Informal commons, cassette copying, vinyl bootlegs, tape trading networks, these were not experienced as “theft” by the people who did this – they were social distribution systems, low-scale, trust-based, culturally embedded, limited by friction. They existed alongside markets, artists still toured, labels still made money, culture still flowed.
This was a pre-digital common, tolerated because it couldn’t scale enough to threaten capital. Then came the first native digital implementation. Napster originally wasn’t thought of as a crime, but was turned into a real fork in the road when Napster didn’t invent piracy, it simply removed friction and exposed the contradiction.
Napster was an early, messy, accidental example of what open distribution could have become if shaped by public-interest values rather than VC mess. What panicked the industry wasn’t copying – it was loss of control. Two paths were possible:
Adapt to abundance, treat sharing as promotion, build fair access + fair reward, except that copying is native to digital culture.
They chose the second, before they shift to the working subscription “solution” This turned into a temporary truce in the that #dotcons streaming worked, briefly, because it aligned with human behaviour: convenience, simplicity, predictable cost, “good enough” access. This reduced piracy, not because people became more ethical, but because the service stopped being so hostile. This is crucial, piracy goes down when #mainstreaming systems respect users.
Though this did not last, the pushing of the #dotcons (#enshittification) broke the social contract, now we’re seeing a piracy resurgence – due to legitimacy collapse. Platforms: fragmented access, raised prices, removed ownership, revoked sharing, erased archives and locked culture behind licences. The normal mess that you don’t own culture any more, you rent permission until it’s revoked.
People don’t won’t this enclosure of culture and memory “if buying isn’t owning, pirating isn’t stealing” isn’t only edgy internet logic, it’s a commons’ logic. It says: ownership has been broken, legitimacy has been lost, people are reclaiming agency informally. This is exactly how commons historically re-emerge, outside broken institutions, not through them. So from any seasonable mainstreaming view, Piracy Isn’t Anti-Artist – It’s Anti-Bullshit, a service problem, it’s what happens when distribution is controlled instead of shared.
Where #OMN fits, the Open Media Network is not about simply justifying piracy. It’s about removing the need for it by rebuilding: public-first distribution, shared infrastructure, local publishing, federated archives, cultural memory that can’t be revoked, trust instead of DRM, access without enclosure, communing.
Culture needs to be: easy to access, hard to erase, socially rooted, economically plural, governed in the open. When those conditions exist, piracy fades into the background, not because people are policed, but because the system stops being abusive.
Piracy Is the smoke – enclosure Is the fire – the historical arc looks like this:
informal sharing → tolerated
digital abundance → panic
platform compromise → temporary calm
enclosure + extraction → rebellion
From this view, people aren’t becoming criminals, they’re disobedient consumers because consumption has become hostile. What people need to see in this mess is that Piracy isn’t the future, it’s a warning flare. The future is rebuilding open, shared, accountable media infrastructure so that: artists are supported, culture persists, access is normal, and people don’t have to choose between legality and dignity. That’s not nostalgia, it’s the unfinished business from the original #openweb.
A path to do this is to step away from the #mainstreming mess. In 2024, the Nobel Prize in Economics was awarded to Daron Acemoglu, Simon Johnson, and James Robinson. The prize recognised their work on how institutions shape prosperity, most famously through their book Why Nations Fail. The timing matters, it matters a lot.
This award lands at exactly the moment we should be asking why Institutional Economics – the respectable face of #mainstreaming – has spent the last fifteen years pushing us to keep kneeling at the altar of the #deathcult of #neoliberalism.
For more than a decade after the 2008 financial crisis – a crisis that should have finished neoliberal economics for good – our liberal institutions quietly stepped in to rescue the doctrine. Not by defending it openly, but by reframing its failures. This wasn’t accidental. It’s central to the mess we’re living in now.
The 2008 crash began with the collapse of Lehman Brothers and rapidly spread from finance into the real economy. It triggered the largest global contraction since World War II. Advanced economies saw GDP falls of over 10%. In the US alone, more than $16 trillion in household wealth vanished.
The shock was so extreme that Queen Elizabeth II famously asked economists at the London School of Economics why nobody had seen it coming, the profession replied that it was a “failure of the collective imagination”. That answer was revealing and evasive. Because imagination hadn’t been lacking before the crash. Throughout the 1990s and early 2000s, #neoliberalism dominated economics. Its core beliefs were simple, absolute, and aggressively enforced:
Markets are efficient
Deregulation increases productivity
Financial innovation reduces risk
Macroeconomic instability has been solved
These ideas were institutionalised across universities, central banks, and international organisations. Nobel Prizes were handed out to models built on perfectly rational actors and self-correcting markets. Central bankers talked confidently about a “Great Moderation”: stable inflation, steady growth, forever.
Economics became “scientific”, self-referential, and closed to challenge. This wasn’t wisdom, it was a pile of shit built on mathematical abstraction – a classic #geekproblem – detached from lived social reality. Financial fantasies were celebrated. Subprime mortgages were reframed as inclusion. Mortgage-backed securities were said to spread risk. Collateralised debt obligations were hailed as marvels of modern finance.
They were, in reality, weapons of mass financial destruction. The #deathcult was warming up. When the system collapsed, neoliberal economics should have been held to account. No theory in modern history had failed so completely, so quickly, with such devastating consequences. Instead, it reinvented itself.
The first move was redefinition. Under the Obama administration, the US abandoned laissez-faire dogma overnight. Banks were declared “systemically important”. Corporations were bailed out. Trillions were injected into markets through quantitative easing. Socialism for the rich was revealed as normal.
This should have been the moment it became obvious that #neoliberalism was never about principles. It was always about power. Markets, models, and theories were tools – not truths – used to maintain capital’s dominance over society. But what we got was the normal mess of denial, spin, and fragmentation.
Once stability returned, denial followed. Economists claimed victory. The crisis was blamed on interest rates, oil prices, China’s savings – anything except the theory itself. The line became: “The models failed to predict the crisis, but the solutions worked.” That sleight of hand kept neoliberalism alive.
Instead of lifting our heads and walking away, we fell for the smoke and mirrors. The priesthood fragmented neoliberalism into subfields, and our #fashionista classes filled the space. Game theory analysed distressed financial institutions without asking why they were distressed. Behavioural economics blamed low-income borrowers’ “biases” while ignoring policies that made housing unaffordable. Feminist economics debated unpaid labour while leaving capital accumulation untouched.
Each critique was partial. Each acted as a distraction. None threatened the altar we were still collectively worshipping. The strongest shield, however, came from Institutional Economics – the respectable centre of #mainstreaming liberal thought.
Why, Why Nations Fail succeeds, it “common sense” argues that prosperity comes from “inclusive institutions” – markets, property rights, patents – supported by political institutions like democracy and the rule of law. “Extractive institutions”, we’re told, lead to stagnation.
This framework was easy to accept in the common-sense fog of the #fashionista class. It sounded critical while leaving capitalism intact. Weak, procedural democracy was sold as the mechanism that could tame markets.
What it ignored – completely – is that democracy inside highly unequal societies is easily captured by capital. Elections reproduce power relations far more often than they correct them. By declaring any market outcome produced through elections legitimate, the #nastyfew who this mess served grabbed and twisted “democratic” approval.
At a moment of global instability – Eurozone debt crises, austerity, mass unemployment – #mainstreaming economics offered a comforting story: the problem wasn’t capitalism, just “bad institutions”.
The reality on the ground, in Europe, austerity devastated entire societies. Greece lost over a quarter of its GDP. Youth unemployment passed 50%. Public assets were stripped. Debt increased. Today, a six-day work week is framed as “responsibility”.
In the United States, recovery was brutally unequal. Between 2009 and 2019, the top 1% captured 40% of all income growth. Asset prices exploded while wages stagnated. Private equity gutted industries. In the world of the #dotcons, gig work replaced stability. Neoliberalism didn’t retreat. It consolidated.
There was, however, a different path. China – worshipping a different cult – ignored neoliberal assumptions after 2008. Instead of monetary inflation, it pursued fiscal stimulus, infrastructure investment, R&D, and industrial policy. Growth remained high. Manufacturing expanded. Living standards improved. China became the world’s largest economy by purchasing power parity more than a decade ago.
Western institutions urged “liberalisation”, framed through #mainstreaming economics. Political reform was demanded – meaning access for Western capital. China refused. When China’s property bubble burst in 2021, contagion was contained. Capital was redirected into technology and manufacturing. Industrial dominance accelerated.
This success could not be acknowledged, so institutional economics reframed it as “extractive”, unsustainable, and destined to collapse. Yet the facts contradict the story. Inequality is far higher in the US. China’s overproduction lowers global prices and stabilises living standards. Without it, global inequality would already be politically explosive.
So why are we still stuck, #Neoliberalism survives not because it works, but because it controls the story of what is possible. It offers legitimacy without transformation, democracy without redistribution, reform without power shifts.
Worse, over the last forty years it has reshaped education, work, identity, and the value of human life itself. It trained people to see themselves as assets, competitors, and risks. It normalised insecurity and abstraction. That’s why we’re facing collapse now: a system that has exhausted its social, ecological, and moral foundations.
In our worship of the #deathcult, if you strip away the robes, chants, and charismatic leaders, what remains is behaviour, not belief. A destructive cult is not defined by how strange it sounds, but by what it does to bodies, lives, and futures. This matters because it breaks a common illusion: cults are judged by outcomes, not vibes.
So the real question for our #mainstreaming culture is simple: does this system produce harm through deliberate collective action? If the answer is yes, then whatever it calls itself – religion, nation, corporation, ideology – it is functioning as a destructive cult. Scale does not absolve cult behaviour. One of the biggest blocks to clear thinking is the assumption that cults are small or fringe. History shows the opposite: the most destructive cults are large, normalised, institutional, and framed as “common sense”.
When harm is routinised, bureaucratised, and abstracted, people stop recognising it as cult behaviour. Violence becomes “policy”. Death becomes an “externality”. Injury becomes a “necessary sacrifice”. This is why the #deathcult framing lands so sharply – it cuts through the language that hides responsibility.
Seen this way, our current #mainstreaming clearly qualifies. It knowingly produces mass injury and death, continues despite overwhelming evidence of harm, treats that harm as acceptable or unavoidable, and disciplines or excludes those who challenge its logic. At that point, it meets the functional definition of a destructive cult.
The justification doesn’t matter – profit, security, growth, markets, “realism”, inevitability. The outcomes are the same: climate collapse, preventable poverty, war, border violence, structural neglect. All normalised. All defended. All repeated. This is not accidental; it is deliberate action within a shared belief system.
People resist this #KISS framing because calling a system a cult feels offensive. It threatens identity, exposes complicity, and removes the comfort of neutrality. So instead, people argue about tone, civility, process, or “both sides”. These debates avoid the harder question: what are we part of that is actively harming people, and why do we keep participating?
This connects directly to the #OMN project. The Open Media Network is not about labelling individuals as evil. It is about withdrawing legitimacy from systems that normalise harm, and rebuilding media and social infrastructure that makes harm visible, allows challenge without erasure, documents action rather than just opinion, and restores collective memory.
When journalism collapses into PR and outrage, cults thrive. When media becomes operational again, cult logic weakens. The uncomfortable truth is that destructive cults are not defeated by exposing hypocrisy, debating beliefs, policing language, or demanding safety from discomfort. They are defeated by refusing participation, building parallel systems, making outcomes visible, and acting collectively outside their framing.
That is not comfortable. It is not safe. But it is how people stop being members of something that kills – and why the #deathcult framing matters.
