When I last had the privilege of hosting Dr. Michael Rectenwald on my YouTube channel, we dove deep into the Middle East conflict and the Israel-Gaza war, unpacking Zionism, Jewish identity, and the edges of theology. At one point in our conversation, we shifted gears to talk about our respective writing projects. Mine, a screenplay in development, and his, a forthcoming book titled The Cabal Question.

The title itself is an alchemical fusion of two of the most volatile topics in circulation today: The Jewish Question and the idea of a global Cabal controlling world affairs. Together, they form a combination of words that somehow stabilizes the reaction long enough to be printable, while simultaneously raising the stakes with their provocative intersection.

While The Cabal Question isn’t quite an espionage novel, it carries the tension of a political thriller with the atmosphere of a Bond film layered by sharp suspense and an intrepid intellectual curiosity.

Show, Don’t Tell

During the aforementioned interview, I worried that I might have inadvertently stepped on his dialogue emphasis by referencing the screenwriter’s axiom, “show, don’t tell.” With Rectenwald’s extensive academic bona fides, and a dense seven-page foreward, I half-expected the book to lean heavily on exposition or theory, with momentum taking a back seat. But The Cabal Question put that expectation to rest immediately.

Rectenwald not only manages to layer in plenty of action, he does so without sacrificing intellectual rigor. When dialogue takes over, it does so with clarity and consequence. It isn’t a screenplay, but would pass a screenwriter’s test all the same.

Seth?! What’s “Seth?” It’s a person. A friend of mine. He’s threatening to kill himself, Paul said, pointing to his phone. What kind of a sick joke is this? It’s not a joke. I’m dead serious. Just then Seth’s miniature voice screamed through the speaker.

From the very first page, the narrative grabs hold with more urgency than most fiction dares attempt. In film terms, it decimates the “hook ‘em in ten” rule on the very first page. The protagonist, Paul Becker, an apparent avatar and ultimate effigy of Rectenwald, climbs the Martinikerk bell tower in Groningen, but before he even settles at the top, the bells explode into sound and his phone rings. On the line is his friend Seth, straddling a seventh-floor windowsill with a noose around his neck, the rope tied to a pipe behind him, threatening to jump.

The Plot Thickens

This is not some slow burn, and it is not just some abstraction. It moves fast and keeps moving. By page five, the protagonist isn’t just using Bond-style pickup lines on an attractive Dutch blonde; he’s doing it while talking on the phone with a suicidal friend who’s mid-rant, unloading racial theories and apocalyptic claims that most people wouldn’t even think to whisper in private, let alone in the company of strangers.

Paul is soon interrogated by police under suspicion of a hate crime after his friend Seth is overheard ranting on speakerphone at a nearby Groningen café with the woman. What began as a private conversation is now evidence in an international investigation. Confined to his hotel room while awaiting permission to leave, Paul realizes he has been pulled into a web of surveillance and guilt by association, possibly being set up as an example for committing a thought crime.

“Paul pulled the passport from the envelope and lit on his new name. He was now Lars Kunde”

Rather than take his chances, he accepts an offer to leave the country under an assumed name, Lars Kunde. Caught between academic inquiry and political taboo, he becomes a person of interest, swept into a network of secret meetings, safe houses, coded exchanges, and sudden disappearances among the other usual suspects. The tone evokes Ian Fleming, but the stakes are more existential. The danger is not only physical, but reputational, legal, psychological, and even theological, creeping into the reader’s own world with each turned page.

Along the way, Paul is joined by two women whose roles are anything but incidental, including Eva, the woman from the café, who stays with him through most of the journey. Their presence adds both intrigue and intimacy, softening the book’s ideological tension while intensifying the lure of seduction and suspicion. Both women act as mirrors and counterweights to Paul’s growing unease, grounding the narrative in human connection amid rising peril.

The JQ Book Club

After fleeing Europe, Paul returns to the United States, and the chase gives way to a long, charged interlude in which the protagonist enters what amounts to a high-stakes seminar in forbidden inquiry. Now in hiding after fleeing police scrutiny, he spends this time reading, debating, and re-evaluating everything he once thought settled. His companions, Eva, Anneliese, and later Eli Yoder, each contribute a different lens, not to radicalize Paul, but to challenge his trust in official narratives.

The texts they engage are real and controversial: Kevin MacDonald’s Culture of Critique, Israel Shahak’s Jewish History, Jewish Religion, Jacques Ellul’s Propaganda, Germar Rudolf’s The Rudolf Report, and most notoriously, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. Each is introduced in dialogue, not dogma, and treated as evidence that demands scrutiny. MacDonald’s thesis on Jewish intellectual subversion is framed by Eva as a strategic cultural shift. Shahak’s critique of Talmudic ethics gives Paul language for questions he has been circling. Ellul’s framework on how propaganda adapts to mass media helps him see control operating through language. Eli, a Mennonite, presents Holocaust revisionism as an act of faith, questioning even the most sanctified history.

“It’s either a fabulous hoax or the master key, he said. Or it could be both.”

When The Protocols of the Elders of Zion appear, Paul knows it is propaganda. He says as much. But what troubles him is its apparent accuracy. Events in his world begin to unfold in ways that mirror what the Protocols describe. He does not accept the text as literally true, but he cannot deny the shape of a world resembling its outline. This contradiction becomes the engine of his inner conflict.

If there is an anonymous “Q” in this story, it is not Fleming’s clever supplier of gadgets, nor the lost gospel said to lie behind the synoptic texts. It is a whisper threaded through forged documents and sacred footnotes alike. The Protocols mirror an earlier mystery: that absent voice behind the New Testament. Both may be fabrications or insertions, yet Paul wonders if they are not also attempts to reverse-engineer a buried architecture of truth. Textual criticism, after all, is less a science of proof than a pursuit of the spirit that animates the word.

Rectenwald does not resolve this conflict for Paul, nor for us. Instead he uses Paul as a vehicle to exhaust the material. He asks the harder questions so we don’t have to fear their inquiry. From Zionism and the Gaza conflict through the Protocols all the way down to Holocaust Revisionism, no question is sidestepped.

He begins with the intent to refute what he assumes are fringe claims. But as he moves through the material, the trail continues to return to an unavoidable subject: the Jewish Question.

Long, Dark, Deep-dive of the Soul

Defying genre expectations, the story’s climax is not a boss fight or shootout but an arrest. Paul is charged with hate crimes. Among them is the accusation of “anti-Judaism,” a fictionalized legal category created by the novel's setting to criminalize patterns of thought. This moment is not simply a legal twist, but the story’s moral collapse point. Paul, who set out to understand the world more deeply, is now branded an enemy of it.

For all the third rail content the book contends with, there is no Nazi conspiracy, no coded hate, no affiliation with extremists, no intention to do harm. Paul is not isolated or unstable. He is a respected professor, a thoughtful man whose life and work have always followed the evidence. What drives him is not ideology but sincere, searching curiosity.

And he is not alone. He is introduced to other people. Some are intentionally placed to radicalize him, others are independent seekers. Through them, Paul is exposed to more extreme ideas than he would have sought out on his own, but entertains them out of a need to make sense of their recurring presence. The process is not ideological but psychological, layered with the constant fear that thinking too much might destroy him, with refraining too much of a concession. Already outside of a false Overton window, he has no guardrails to trust.

There are theological contrasts as well. Christianity and Talmudic Judaism are placed in conversation. Some scenes feature dark or even satanic imagery. The spiritual backdrop of the story is thick with symbolism and actual hard problems of faith and existential dread. This is not only a secular world. It is a world where metaphysical questions still matter, and where power is not just political, but spiritually bound with meaning.

“Anti-Semitic! Anti-Semitic! it bellowed, its voice now deep and enormous, spitting the words at him like venom.”

One chapter titled The Noticing encapsulates Paul’s dilemma. He is not trying to reach a conclusion. He is trying to survive the act of seeing. As he observes the patterns, he begins to have dreams. Visions. Nightmares, even. In them, he is called names. Holocaust denier. Anti-Semite. Fascist. These visions haunt him, because they are not merely insults. They are accusations with consequences. He knows that merely reading certain documents, asking certain questions, will invite ruin.

And while Paul’s search for truth drives the plot, the relationship at the heart of his personal journey only comes into focus near the end. When it finally takes shape, the emotion feels real, but the moments are too brief. One wishes their connection had been given more space to breathe and grow, allowing its impact on Paul’s inner life to be more fully revealed.

Free Man on the Lam

Libertarian themes are strongly present throughout. In this dystopian world too close to our own, even hearing someone speak such thoughts can implicate you. It is a clear critique of speech laws and the expanding reach of the state into the realm of private conscience.

“He was the eternal convict, incarcerated before birth and now conscious that the state had always been prepared to receive him—into the slavery of law, debt, taxes, and now, imprisonment”

This concern deepens as the story progresses. The state is not portrayed as neutral, but as something co-opted by powerful interests, the Cabal, for which the phrase “Jewish Mafia” is coined. This phrase cautiously crafted to name a power structure that cannot be publicly identified. In a climate where self-censorship is required for self-preservation, the story’s warning about the erosion of individual liberty is underscored.

Even Paul’s flight from Europe under an assumed name, while lending itself a flair of espionage, invalidates the legitimacy of the state that would otherwise restrict his liberty.

In a key subplot, Paul meets a family living off-grid. They live close to the land. They reject modernity. Their life offers a kind of alternative to the dystopia Paul is navigating. It is not a utopia, but a nod to the sovereign citizen ideal, a path of resistance and also a real insight into the book’s Libertarian soul. It is a world where living simply may be the only escape from total control, an island outside the archipelago.

And yet, even this is not enough. The story ends not with resolution, but with a moment of hope, followed by tragedy. The final turn is quiet and irreversible. It leaves the reader with a sense of loss, not just for a character, but for a world where asking questions is still allowed. Orwell’s statist boot, “stamping on a human face, forever.”

The Cabal Question is not a manifesto. It is not a screed. It is a story. But it is a dangerous one, because it dares to make its protagonist authentically curious, and thereby the reader too, refusing to protect either from the consequences. It is part spy thriller, part political diagnosis, part philosophical inquiry. It is not trying to answer the question, but to survive the act of asking it.

Buy The Cabal Question on Amazon

Michael Rectenwald on Substack

Michael Rectenwald on X

In a recent exchange with Tucker Carlson, Senator Ted Cruz cited Genesis 12:3 — “I will bless those who bless you” as the spiritual basis for unwavering U.S. support of Israel. Carlson, visibly taken aback, pressed Cruz on whether America’s foreign policy should be dictated by a 3,000-year-old religious covenant. The moment, captured here, exposes a profound constitutional question: can theological belief serve as the basis for American war policy?

When biblical prophecy becomes public policy, we risk crossing the bright red line drawn by the Establishment Clause, one that separates faith from the machinery of state power.

The Establishment Clause Means What It Says

The First Amendment begins:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…”

This is not theological poetry. It’s structural constraint. The Establishment Clause demands government neutrality in matters of religion, not “preference,” not “sympathy,” but total institutional abstinence from religious endorsement.

This wasn’t a rhetorical flourish by the Framers. It was a barricade against holy war.

What Happens When Theology Becomes Casus Belli?

A war fought to fulfill divine mandate or defend a chosen nation for religious reasons is not only morally dangerous, it is constitutionally invalid.

• No Secular Purpose: under the Lemon Test from Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U.S. 602 (1971), all government action must have a secular legislative purpose. A war declared to defend Israel because of Genesis 12:3 (“I will bless those who bless you”) automatically fails.

• Religious Endorsement: the U.S. cannot endorse or give primacy to a particular theology, per County of Allegheny v. ACLU, 492 U.S. 573 (1989). Framing war as a spiritual obligation to Israel endorses Christian Zionist interpretations of Scripture.

• Sectarian Favoritism: Larson v. Valente, 456 U.S. 228 (1982) bars government from preferring one religion over another. Using theology to justify war favors certain denominations and eschatologies over others is in direct violation.

The Legal Precedent Is Unambiguous

The Supreme Court has ruled time and again that government must not advance religion through its actions. Here's how these decisions apply directly to the issue of war justified by theology:

Everson v. Board of Education (1947)
The Court held that “no tax in any amount, large or small, can be levied to support any religious activities or institutions.” If a war is justified by religious doctrine and funded by taxes, it violates this principle outright. Link

Engel v. Vitale (1962)
The Court prohibited government-composed school prayers. The principle is clear: the state must not write or promote theological content. Just as it may not write a prayer, it may not write a war rationale based on prophecy. Link

Wallace v. Jaffree (1985)
This case struck down a statute entirely motivated by religious purpose. The Court wrote: “The First Amendment requires that a statute be invalidated if it is entirely motivated by a purpose to advance religion.” A war justified by Genesis 12:3 or eschatology would be invalid for the same reason. Link

McCreary County v. ACLU (2005)
The Court emphasized that courts must look at the actual purpose of government actions, not just what’s claimed after the fact. If officials publicly state the war is about fulfilling biblical prophecy or defending God’s chosen people, no later secular framing can cover it. Link

Epperson v. Arkansas (1968)
A state law banning the teaching of evolution was struck down because it attempted to align public policy with religious beliefs. The Court was clear: public policy cannot be molded to fit religious doctrine. Neither can foreign policy or military strategy. Link

Ex Parte Milligan (1866)
This foundational case affirmed that “The Constitution... is a law for rulers and people, equally in war and in peace.” No war justification is exempt from constitutional scrutiny—especially under the Establishment Clause. Link

Real Officials Are Saying It Out Loud

This isn’t hypothetical. It’s happening:

• Former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo agreed that Trump may be a modern Queen Esther, divinely appointed to protect Israel from Iran. Source: Washinton Post

• U.S. Ambassador David Friedman declared, “Israel is on the side of God.” Source: Times of Israel

• Christian Zionist groups openly campaign for U.S. foreign policy to align with biblical prophecy. See: Christians United for Israel

When officials use divine narratives to drive military policy, the Establishment Clause isn’t just implicated — it’s lit on fire.

Theological War Harms Everyone

Theologically justified warfare:

• Forces taxpayers to fund religious ideology.

• Forces soldiers to die for beliefs they may not share.

• Divides the republic into “believers” and “outsiders” — something Justice O’Connor warned against in Lynch v. Donnelly.

• Puts the U.S. government in the position of divine interpreter which is theocratic territory.

James Madison warned in his Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments (1785) that:

“The religion then of every man must be left to the conviction and conscience of every man… it is the duty of every man to render to the Creator such homage… as he believes to be acceptable.”

It is not the duty of Congress.

There Is No “War Exception” to the Constitution

Let’s kill this myth at the root.

As SCOTUS stated in Ex Parte Milligan:

“The Constitution… is a law for rulers and people, equally in war and in peace…”

That includes the Establishment Clause. There is no exemption for Middle East strategy, eschatology, or geopolitically convenient scripture.

Even the Founders affirmed this in the Treaty of Tripoli (1797), ratified unanimously by the Senate under John Adams:

“The Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion…”

That’s not atheism. That’s humility.

What If War Is Declared on Theological Grounds?

Let’s be blunt:

• It violates Everson: public money funding religious activity.

• It violates Lemon: no secular purpose.

• It violates McCreary: primary religious intent.

• It violates Larson: sectarian favoritism.

• It violates Epperson: government tailored to theology.

• It violates Madison’s doctrine: freedom of conscience.

And if the justification is religious, any “secular pretense” would likely fail the McCreary test as a sham.

The Stakes Are Existential

To summarize:

A war waged to fulfill a biblical commandment is not foreign policy.
It is theocratic policy.
And it is unconstitutional.

The Supreme Court may never have ruled on a case that outright asked:
“Can the U.S. go to war for religious reasons?”

But the answer is written between the lines of every Establishment Clause case for over 70 years.

War cannot be theological.
The government may not wield its sword in service of religion.
The Constitution demands it.

What You Can Do

• Call out religious justifications for war, whether in media, by officials, or policy platforms.

• Share this article or the case law.

• Hold candidates accountable for blurring the line between foreign policy and divine prophecy.

We didn’t escape Europe’s religious wars to rebuild them in the 21st century.

Final Thought

“To compel a man to furnish contributions of money for the propagation of opinions which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical.”
— Thomas Jefferson, Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom

On June 12, 2025, Google Cloud suffered a major failure. IAM collapsed. OAuth token flows died. Monitoring and logging systems fell mute. From Ashburn to Tel Aviv, from Zurich to Doha, the cloud darkened, and for several hours, no one could enter in.

The official explanation is dutiful and technical:

“A latent bug introduced on May 29th was triggered by a quota policy update, causing invalid configuration data to propagate globally.”
— Google Cloud Status Report

That explanation may satisfy the faithful. But those who watch the skies know to ask: why then? And what fell beneath that cover of digital darkness?

Timing is the Tell

The outage began at 10:51 AM PDT (June 12) — 9:51 PM in Israel. According to Reuters and ISW, Israeli airstrikes on Iranian targets began at 2:59 AM IDT on June 13, roughly five hours later. The strikes targeted key enrichment facilities and removed high-value individuals from the earthly register. The outage, then, preceded the action—creating a possible window, not a reaction.

The outage lasted until approximately 6:18 PM PDT, or 5:18 AM in Tel Aviv. In other words: it enveloped the strike.

Not before. Not long after. Within.

This wasn’t the cloud going before the camp by day. This was the cloud withdrawing at night.

What Actually Failed

Here’s what went down, according to Google itself:

• OAuth token issuance

• IAM (Identity Access Management)

• Quota enforcement (Service Control)

• Cloud Monitoring & Logging

• Pub/Sub, GKE, BigQuery, Cloud Run

…basically everything.

Think about that. Not a “glitch.” Not a “partial outage.”

The core nervous system of Google Cloud’s access and visibility model failed.

In wartime terms: Eyes blind. Mouth shut. Doors locked. And everyone blames a software bug.

A Bug Dormant Until… When?

The bug was deployed on May 29, but lay dormant for two weeks. It didn’t activate until a specific quota policy change on June 12 triggered it.

From the report:

“The change was not protected by a feature flag and propagated instantly.”

No feature flag. No staging environment. And it propagated to every region on Earth.

That’s either a massive operational failure, or a built-in kill switch with plausible deniability baked in.

The Silence of the Tokens

It’s tempting to see outages as sudden ruptures, like the lights going out in Times Square or a subway stalling in Brooklyn. But in modern infrastructure, failure creeps.

OAuth tokens don’t vanish instantly. They expire. And most expire within 60 minutes.

When IAM and OAuth systems go down, new tokens cannot be issued. Existing sessions begin to quietly time out. APIs stop responding. Authentication fails. Logs stop logging.

This isn’t a lightning strike. It’s a strategic silence that unfolds in waves. It doesn’t shout. It waits. And then, it denies.

What this means: if key actors were authenticated before the outage, they would have remained online for a while. But if someone needed a blackout to begin as the world began watching, you'd want the failure to come after preparations had begun, and before the retaliation or inquiry. To shield coordination, not just reaction.

And that's exactly what happened.

The Rolling Veil

The rollout of the "bug" was global, but not instantaneous in effect. It rolled like a plague. First touching IAM, then token refresh, then access to logs, to Pub/Sub, to GKE.

There was no blood on the doorposts of authenticated systems. There was just token expiry, and with it, blindness.

If someone wished to open the heavens long enough for the chariots to pass, and then close the sea behind them, this is what it would look like.

No forensic trail, just decaying credentials.

What We Won’t Behold

Google will release a root cause analysis. It will diagram the call stack and quote line numbers.

But readers should pay close attention to what won't be included:

• Who submitted the policy change that triggered the bug

• Whether that change was scheduled, requested, or off-cycle

• Whether Israeli or Iranian systems experienced specific outages during the same window

• Whether military SIGINT pipelines depending on Google infrastructure experienced any disruptions

These are the questions worth watching for. Not because we expect to see the full face of the truth, but because even glimpses, like Moses behind the cleft of the rock, may reveal more than silence ever will.

That’s not in the RCA. That’s in the missing metadata.

The Real Question

The question isn’t was there a bug. The question is: who knew it would fire, and when?

If someone wanted a deniable, short-duration global comms blackout… if someone needed OAuth to stall, IAM to fail, and logs to stop logging… and if they had the inside access or leverage to make it happen…

Then this isn’t a glitch.

It’s a ghost in the cloud.

The cloud was present by day, and by night it withdrew.

And none could enter in.

Sources
Google Outage Status
ThousandEyes IAM Breakdown
ByteByteGo Outage Summary
SiliconANGLE IAM Auth Chain
Reuters Iran Strike Coverage
ISW June 13 Strike Brief
The Times Live Updates

Over the past few years, Christianity has been re-entering the political conversation in a big way. Whether through revivalist movements, popular apologetics, populist media, or renewed interest in faith-driven identity, we’re seeing Christianity move from the margins back into public discourse. In some corners, it’s being elevated as a cornerstone of Western heritage. In others, it's being dissected, repackaged, and reoriented to fit new ideological frameworks.

This renewed attention has created space for bold affirmation—but also opened the door to distortion, suppression, and control. And that’s where our deeper investigation begins.

A Trinity of Words

Let’s start with the phrase “Christ is King.” Traditionally, it’s a theological affirmation, drawn from passages like Philippians 2:10–11 and Colossians 1:16–18. It’s central to Christian doctrine: Christ reigns over all.

Philippians 2:9-11
For this reason also, God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus EVERY KNEE WILL BOW, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

But now, in 2025, it’s been reframed. Zionist watchdog groups have recently rebranded it a phrase of extremism. According to a recent report titled Thy Name in Vain: How Online Extremists Hijacked 'Christ is King', the phrase is now tied to antisemitism.

The study, released during Lent, aimed to delegitimize Christian theological speech in public, especially when it comes from non-Zionist-aligned figures. Almost comically, it draws an ominous correlation between use of the phrase “Christ is King” and the word “Jew,” a framing that borders on farcical, considering that every Christian knows that Jesus himself was Jewish.

Rather than protecting against actual antisemitism, the report casts a wide net of suspicion over assertive Christian expressions, subtly suggesting that the faith itself, when spoken too plainly, risks crossing some unspoken political boundary between "good Christians" and "bad Christians."

And Candace Owens, who broke with The Daily Wire a year ago, finds herself in the crosshairs. The report doesn’t just reference the phrase, it singles her out specifically. She's listed alongside Andrew Tate, who is a professed Muslim. Tate’s inclusion, despite having no theological link to the phrase “Christ is King” underscores that the report's purpose isn’t to analyze Christian rhetoric, but to target dissent. What unites them isn’t belief, it’s defiance. Owens continues to speak plainly about her Christian faith, to say “Christ is King”, and like Tate, to voice sympathy for Palestinians. That, it seems, is their common offense, and for that, the pressure hasn’t stopped, even a year later.

The Architects of the Report

To understand the political function of the report, we need to look at who wrote it. The study was authored by thirteen people: ten Jewish contributors, two Indian scholars, and one token Christian—Reverend Johnny Moore, a Zionist-aligned evangelical with ties to the ADL, an organization well-known for slandering anyone critical of Israel.

This is not incidental. The overwhelming demographic and ideological composition of the authors reveals the report’s priorities: not a balanced theological critique for Christians or even theologians, but a strategic political effort to define acceptable Christian expression through a Zionist lens. It signals to public figures and platforms: your faith is permissible, but only within boundaries drawn by those who do not share it.

Crossing the Jordan

Which brings us to Jordan Peterson—who has made a career out of unpacking belief, while studiously avoiding any firm declaration of his own. He’s not engaging in rhetorical discipline, but evasion and insulation. A way to speak in parables without owning their implications.

Once hailed as a torchbearer for free speech and known globally for his Biblical lecture series, Peterson now stands in awkward alignment with a report that pathologizes the very kind of open confession he once appeared to defend. The report, published by NCRI—the Network Contagion Research Institute—bears his name among its contributors.

That’s right. Peterson, long cast as a defender of Western civilization via archetype and scripture, and defender of free speech, lent his institutional weight to a document that treats “Christ is King” not as proclamation, but as provocation.

And when pressed on his own theology? He retreats. Not into mystery, but into semantic fog. Asked plainly whether he believes Jesus is God, or any number of questions aiming to get a straight answer on the topic, Peterson defaults to hedging: "It depends what you mean by believe..." The answer never arrives, only deflective analyses of the question. At one point in a conversation moderated by Alex O’Connor, Richard Dawkins calls him out for being “drunk on symbols.”

This postmodern pivot into the deconstruction of language is coming from the same man who lambasts postmodernism and moral relativism, yet when it comes time to confess Christ, or simply state his position on a matter of fact or conviction, he dodges.

And yet, he’s comfortable condemning those who do say it plainly.

In fact, he recently took to Twitter to denounce Candace Owens not with argument, but with accusation, calling her a “Pharisaical pretender” and quoting scripture to paint her as a hypocrite. The irony is rich: Peterson, who sidesteps theological conviction when pressed on his own belief in Christ, lambastes Owens for affirming hers too boldly. He accuses her of performative piety while refusing to declare any of his own.

These lines, lifted from Matthew 23, explicitly show Jesus calling out the Pharisees who deny the core of God's law while performing righteousness for public approval. That Peterson dares weaponize them against anyone affirming “Christ is King,” while he himself shrinks away on whether he believes in Christ at all, reeks not of rebuke but of cowardly projection—an intellectual Pharisee casting stones from behind a Zionist paywall.

And his final jab—suggesting Owens should “forswear the Tate brothers,” shows he isn’t interested in theology at all, only guilt-by-association and narrative policing.

Peterson remains protected because he keeps Christianity symbolic, safe, and defanged. He gestures toward tradition without ever staking a theological claim. He is a functional narrative engineer, curating a domesticated, Zionism-compatible Christianity.

His lectures purport to build up Biblical authority while sidestepping any real Biblical scholarship, carefully avoiding any full-throated allegiance to Christ that might come into conflict with the political demands of his patrons.

Only recently has he begun referencing the New Testament more directly, and even then, he dilutes its implications to maintain ideological safety. It’s a choreography of cat’s cradle hand waving, one that gestures toward faith while submitting to a framework where support for Israel trumps fidelity to Christ.

In doing so, Peterson forwards the rhetorical groundwork for something few dare to call out: the oxymoronic rise of “Christian Zionism” - a posture that elevates nationalism, excuses theological contradiction, and rewrites allegiance not to Christ, but to the political construct of Israel. Whether paid or persuaded, he advances this synthesis as though it were natural to scripture, when in fact it is entirely manufactured. And Candace? She was purged because she invoked Christ as King, with real political consequence.

Squeaking it under “The Wire”

Peterson, once a lion of free speech, now squeaks anemically—muzzled not by force, but by allegiance. He who once thundered against compelled speech now whispers his way through theological minefields, retreating from confession into the safety of symbolic gestures, sanctioned scripts, and the block button on X. Pressed on his belief in Christianity, he doesn't affirm—it depends, he says. Not on Christ, but on the word 'believe.'

The Daily Wire, despite branding itself as a defender of Western and Christian values, has revealed its true loyalty: Zionist compliance.

When Owens stepped out of line, she wasn’t debated, she was disavowed. Her use of “Christ is King” was recoded as antisemitism. Meanwhile, figures like Matt Walsh or Michael Knowles are allowed to speak on Christian morals so long as they don’t cross the Zionist line too explicitly.

Peterson survives because he provides intellectual cover. Shapiro holds the gate. And everyone else must conform or leave—and leave they do. From Candace Owens to others who’ve dared to elevate Christ above politics, the pattern is unmistakable: step outside the Zionist perimeter and you’re cast out, regardless of your theological grounding or public support. The boundary is not belief, but obedience.

The Daily Wire sells Christian identity to its audience but defers ultimate authority to Zionism. And in doing so, it exposes a deeper trend: the erosion of secular equilibrium.

The "Woke Right"

Say what you will about Candace Owens, but she’s demonstrated consistent, long-term resistance to ideological manipulation from both Left and Right. Her anti-woke bona fides weren’t manufactured; they were hard-earned. She stood against COVID mandates, race essentialism under Black Lives Matter, radical gender theory, and progressive overreach. Unlike many, she didn’t flinch when the target moved. And that made her dangerous because she remained consistent when others suddenly weren’t.

Enter James Lindsay.

A former vanguard of the anti-woke movement, Lindsay spent years deconstructing the logic of identity politics and weaponized victimhood—until October 7th, when his own framework collapsed. Rather than apply his principles evenly, he inverted them: defending speech policing, identity deference, and ideological loyalty—so long as they served Zionist priorities.

Never mind that the state of Israel began as a Socialist labor movement, with Kibbutzim as literal communes; that even today, about 93% of its land is managed by the Israel Land Authority; or that it later adopted Mussolini-inspired ethno-nationalism under Jabotinsky, who openly admired Mussolini’s methods and styled his youth movement accordingly. Or that is was fused into statehood through the violent acts of militias like the Haganah, Stern Gang, and Lehi. These classical left-versus-right dynamics, synthesized through dialectical tension, seem ironically uninteresting to Lindsay—or too revealing for him to address honestly.

In one recent moment of absurdity, Lindsay equated Tucker Carlson with Rachel Maddow, suggesting that Carlson’s cautious deviation from the pro-Israel consensus made him the Right’s version of a disingenuous manipulator. It was a laughable comparison. Carlson, for all his hedging, has shown more narrative courage than most of the “anti-woke” crowd combined. That Lindsay would smear him while leaving Zionist ethno-nationalism untouched reveals the asymmetry at play or a willful blind spot on his part.

The term “woke” was once wielded almost exclusively by conservatives to describe the ideological excesses of the progressive left, identity politics, censorship, "safe spaces,” and moral grandstanding. But something shifted on October 7th. In the aftermath of that day, the American Right, particularly the so-called anti-woke establishment, suddenly abandoned its anti-woke momentum. Those who had built their reputations on opposing moral panic, collective guilt, and ideological coercion pivoted almost overnight into the very behaviors they had long decried. Lindsay, once an opponent of Mao’s “Unity, Criticism, Unity,” now seemed to embrace the employ of those very tactics.

Criticism of Israeli policy was rebranded as hate speech. Palestinian grief was rendered suspect or nonexistent with cheap remarks like “Palestine? What Palestine?” Dissent was equated with extremism. And “free speech” conservatives became enthusiastic enforcers of silence.

Figures like James, once regarded as defenders of reason and liberty, began policing rhetorical boundaries not for the sake of liberalism, but for ideological containment. His pivot has been especially glaring: having built his brand on opposing the left's use of identity and victimhood politics, he now appears to defend the very same tactics when used to shield Zionist power from critique.

He condemns his so-called 'woke right' for perceived ethno-nationalism, yet spares no scrutiny for the open ethno-nationalism of the Israeli state or its Western advocates. This contradiction, maybe unwitting or perhaps strategic, expresses a double standard: critique is welcome, unless it touches the wrong orthodoxy. In that case, suddenly, feelings matter. Narrative must be protected. And the former champion of liberal neutrality becomes a partisan gatekeeper.

The movement that distinguished itself by its resistance to political correctness suddenly embraced its own form of it: a Zionist moral order where Christianity is welcome—but only if it serves a geopolitical script.

And this is what we now call the Woke Right: a mirror image of the progressive excesses it claims to oppose, recast in the language of national security, religious identity, and unshakable loyalty to Israel. It’s not just hypocrisy—it’s a signal that the fight for secular balance has been abandoned by both sides.

Not in Their Name

To be clear, Lindsay is not wrong to identify certain ideological currents on the Right that deserve scrutiny. There is, in fact, a real Christian Nationalist undercurrent of those who seek to replace the liberal order with a theocratic one, who speak of Christ not as savior but as sovereign-in-waiting for a new political regime. Similarly, there are genuine antisemites who use criticism of Zionism as a pretext for racial hostility or conspiracy-laden narratives. These are not fabrications. They exist.

But Lindsay’s category error, and the danger of his framing, is in collapsing all dissent into that bucket. Even potentially legitimate critiques of Israel, warrant the appropriate level of tone policing. By painting all critics of Israel as ethno-nationalists or “woke” crypto-Nazis, he delegitimizes legitimate voices, replacing discernment with guilt-by-association, suppressing authentic opposition to Zionist overreach by equating it with genuine bigotry.

This dynamic is compounded by the fact that much of the legitimate criticism of Israel comes from the political left—a source Lindsay reflexively distrusts. Rather than engage with the substance of their arguments, he reduces their critiques to ideological sabotage, as if any concern over Zionist policy must be rooted in Marxist subversion or antisemitic animus. In doing so, he not only sidesteps the argument but discredits the only voices still willing to challenge Israeli state actions on moral grounds. The result is an intellectual vacuum where criticism is not rebutted—but preemptively dismissed.

We should reject both extremes: the reactionary theocrats and identitarians who seek domination, and the narrative gatekeepers who use their influence to render critique impossible. A secular framework means all belief systems must be open to criticism, Judaism included, without the automatic imputation of malice.

Because if critique itself becomes contraband, the only narratives that remain are the ones approved from above. it claims to oppose, recast in the language of national security, religious identity, and unshakable loyalty to Israel. It’s not just hypocrisy—it’s a signal that the fight for secular balance has been abandoned by both sides.

The Wrong and the Right

In Lindsay's defense, he has made a conscious effort to distance himself from Christian Nationalism, dedicating an entire episode of his New Discourses podcast to debunking any connection between himself and said political movement.

Notably, he maintains a long-standing affiliation with Sovereign Nations, led by Michael O'Fallon, a vocal opponent of progressive ideology who often frames his cultural critiques through a biblical and American exceptionalist lens. This partnership makes Lindsay’s professed neutrality a little more complicated, and has opened him to scrutiny.

While claiming to oppose both woke progressivism and religious nationalism, Lindsay operates within ecosystems many associate with the latter. He frequently nods to Christian values on New Discourses, not from conviction, but as a rhetorical bridge to his Christian audience.

This distancing reveals a deeper contradiction. As a former New Atheist firebrand, Lindsay’s recent friendliness with Christianity comes not from theological awakening, but from ideological convenience—a shift in aesthetic alignment, not metaphysical belief.

One might expect a former New Atheist to be skeptical of a state founded on the premise of God as real estate agent. But Lindsay, for all his past secular rigor, appears to have chosen a tribal allegiance—one that exempts the identitarian state of Israel from the scrutiny he once so forcefully applied elsewhere.

Fear of God and Godwin’s Law

As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches.
- Godwin’s Law

Any criticism of the state of Israel, especially in the context of this conflict, is quickly funneled into accusations of antisemitism. One can't possibly suggest that Israel has no right to defend itself, and to speak against Zionism is an affront to Jewry itself, or so the straw-manning rhetoric goes.

So for all one’s efforts to sincerely voice concern over the brutal collective punishment inflicted on Palestinians, the continued intransigence of the response prompts a deeper question. Why Jews? What is it about the history of Jews that led to this?

The Jewish Question

“The Jewish Question” refers to a centuries-old inquiry, often debated, often weaponized, about the role of Jews in political, economic, and cultural life, particularly within Europe. Originating in the 18th and 19th centuries during Jewish emancipation, it was initially framed as a civic dilemma: how to integrate a historically separate religious and ethnic minority into secular nation-states. But over time, it morphed into something dark - an ideological sinkhole exploited by both the far right and far left. Today, the phrase carries radioactive associations due to the dark history of the Holocaust.

While publicly contemplating the “Jewish Question” today instantly marks one as an antisemite, its Muslim corollary faces no such taboo. The Daily Wire exemplifies this double standard, vilifying Islam as incompatible with the West while shielding Zionism from even the mildest critique. Though Israel often cites peaceful Arab coexistence to deflect charges of chauvinism, some go further, casting it as the West’s last defense against Islam. The popular but selective fusion of “Judeo-Christian values” reinforces this narrative, excluding Islam from the Abrahamic fold for political utility, not theological coherence.

Choose Your Misadventure

And some concerns are not illegitimate. Western and European nations are grappling with real cultural and demographic pressures. Issues like the rise of grooming gangs in the UK, “no go zones,” radicalized enclaves in France and Sweden, and the political tightrope walked by figures like Keir Starmer, who must appear tolerant while managing escalating intergroup tensions, reflect deep anxieties around assimilation, identity, and sovereignty.

These challenges are often exaggerated or manipulated by political actors, but the underlying frictions are not imaginary. In the UK, figures like Tommy Robinson convert public anxiety into populist activation, sometimes pointing to real state failures, but more often inflaming division through ethnic scapegoating. Starmer, by contrast, employs an institutional containment strategy: cautious, technocratic, and rhetorically muted. If Robinson thrives on moral panic, Starmer governs through moral ambiguity, managing appearances rather than confronting contradiction. Both reflect different responses to the West’s real identity crisis.

In their wake, a civilizational vacuum opens—not by accident—and into it step two rival theological archetypes, both descended from ancient, adversarial lineages.

On one side: the God of land covenants, divine election, and irrevocable geopolitical entitlement. On the other: a transnational religious law structure premised on expansion, submission, and civilizational unity. One is invoked as the West’s last line of defense; the other, as its looming threat.

Caught between these poles are Christians—the West’s historic moral core—now split and triangulated. Pulled between incompatible theologies, they’re pressed to align either with a state-centric covenant narrative foreign to their gospel, or with a posture of total civilizational defense against Islam. It’s a manufactured dialectic: oppose Islam and become captive to Zionist interests, or assert Christian identity and risk being smeared as bigoted or regressive. In either case, Christian political and spiritual agency is hollowed out and replaced with reactive loyalty tests.

But here’s what’s almost never discussed: from a Jewish theological standpoint, Islam is sometimes viewed more favorably than Christianity. Not because of shared values—but because Christianity, unlike Islam, is considered idolatry under Judaism.

Today, secularism is under siege, not as a safeguard of liberty, but smeared as weak, rootless “cultural relativism,” blamed for eroding Western cohesion. But in reality, it may be the last firewall against theocratic rule disguised as civilizational rescue. Secularism isn’t some postmodern indulgence, it’s a pragmatic structure that protects pluralism by keeping theology from claiming the throne.

The very concept of separating church and state, once considered a hallmark of Western progress, is now being reframed as a liability by both camps—one that must be overridden by divine mandate or spiritual warfare. But once that wall collapses, it's not just religious pluralism that dies—it’s the freedom to dissent from power cloaked in scripture.

In the apocryphal tale of Bel and the Dragon, the prophet Daniel exposes the fraud of idol worship. He reveals that the sacrifices offered to the god Bel were not consumed by divinity, but secretly eaten by the priests and their families under cover of night. It was an elaborate deception. Sincere belief became a source of power. Ritual became a tool of control, all in service to a false god. The story is a warning—not just against idolatry, but against systems that feed on faith while hiding their appetite.

And when that moment arrives, it won’t be the West that’s saved—it will be a new dominion enthroned. Not by the God of mercy, but by whichever Canaanite war god proves more ruthless in laying claim to the ruins. Whether it’s Moloch, reanimated through a theology of blood and soil, as found in Deuteronomy’s command to “show no mercy,” or the sword-wielding Mahdi of apocalyptic Islam, heralding submission through violence. In the end, the contest may not be between good and evil, but between rival absolutes—each claiming divine sanction, each demanding tribute.

Or will Christian grace, as once in the courts of the temple, overturn the tables—refusing to serve either idol, and making room again for what is holy: not dominion or vengeance, but the immeasurable worth of human life?

It all started with a tweet

In the ever-evolving landscape of societal norms and values, the recent controversy surrounding a gay couple's adoption of a baby has sparked a heated debate. What was presumably intended to be a heart-warming tweet about adoption quickly escalated into a heated debate about Abortion, Gay Adoption and homophobia.

https://twitter.com/CBSNews/status/1676682362195779584?s=20

The one-minute clip shows a nurse bringing an infant to the male gay couple who react with intense emotion, with one of them swooning over a mood music soundtrack. This seemingly benign tweet was responded to with a torrent of antagonistic replies and comments typical of Twitter, a veritable hot zone of the culture war where no holds are barred.

Followed by a Question

Peter Boghossian, notable colleague of James Lindsay and partner in the Grievance Studies Affair, tweeted:

“It’s unclear why there’s so much vitriol toward this gay couple for adopting a baby. It appears to be coming from the same people who are against abortion. Is this just hatred of gays? What am I missing?”

https://twitter.com/peterboghossian/status/1677094686761074688

This raises a pertinent question: Is the backlash in this case merely a manifestation of homophobia, or is there a deeper, more complex narrative at play? To fully comprehend the dynamics of this issue, we must delve into the tapestry of societal discourse, where threads of family, identity, and individual rights are intricately woven together.

A spill-over of issues

The crux of this debate lies at the intersection of at least two deeply personal and contentious issues: abortion and gay adoption. The former, a topic that has long been a battleground for conservatives and liberals alike, is a matter of life and death, quite literally. The latter, while seemingly less contentious, is no less complex, involving questions of identity, belonging, and the very definition of family.

Conservatives, particularly those of religious persuasion, are often vocally opposed to abortion. Their pro-life position often argues for adoption as a preferable alternative, a concession made to spare the life of the unborn child. However, this is not to say that they regard adoption as equal to a child being raised by its biological parents.

Studies have indeed shown that outcomes for a child are often best when raised by their natural birth parents, for a myriad of reasons, not least of which include a natural biological affinity.

In a paper published in the British Journal of Education, Society and Behavioural Science by Donald Sullins titled Emotional Problems among Children with Same-Sex Parents: Difference by Definition, the abstract states:

“Emotional problems were over twice as prevalent for children with same-sex parents than for children with opposite-sex parents. Risk was elevated in the presence of parent psychological distress, moderated by family instability and unaffected by stigmatization, though these all had significant direct effects on emotional problems. However, biological parentage nullified risk alone and in combination with any iteration of factors. Joint biological parents are associated with the lowest rate of child emotional problems by a factor of 4 relative to same-sex parents, accounting for the bulk of the overall same-sex/opposite-sex difference.”

Adoption, while a noble and often necessary practice, is not without its challenges. Adopted children often grapple with feelings of displacement, even in the most loving and nurturing of homes. The bond formed between a mother and child, from conception through birth, is a profound one. When this bond is severed, the child is thrust into a world of uncertainty, often struggling to find their place in it.

The debate becomes even more complex when we consider the question of who the adoptive parents are. The ideal scenario, according to traditional norms, would be for the child to be raised by a family member, maintaining some semblance of biological continuity. However, in an era where adoption is increasingly commodified, this continuity is often lost, leading to further feelings of displacement and isolation for the child.

The introduction of same-sex couples into this already delicate situation adds another layer of social complexity. While some may argue that a loving home, regardless of the parents' sexual orientation, is all that matters, others, particularly those with traditional or conservative values, may struggle with this notion. Their resistance is not necessarily rooted in homophobia, but rather in a deep-seated belief in the traditional family structure as the ideal environment for raising a child.

Religious bigotry?

Traditional family structures are often advocated by adherents of various religious faiths, including Abrahamic traditions. This extends to other major world religions such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Sikhism, and numerous indigenous and local faiths as well, where interpretations and cultural practices can pose challenges to acceptance of same-sex unions. For believers navigating faiths that traditionally frown upon same-sex unions, the idea of a child being raised by a same-sex couple may indeed be deeply troubling. This does not make them inherently homophobic, but rather, their faith may present them with a moral conundrum they must grapple with.

Some sections of the Bible can be hard to read charitably.

For example, in Romans I:26-27, it reads:

“Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.”

And in Leviticus 18:22

“‘Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable.

While there is more context to interpreting these passages than shown here, this ties in with their broader beliefs about the sanctity of family as they define it, which also informs their opposition to abortion.

While extreme displays like the Westboro Baptists' fire-and-brimstone protests might capture headlines, most contemporary people of faith demonstrate more moderation. Nevertheless, for individuals in the gay community and those committed to progressive causes, the reactions from religious groups to issues like gay marriage and adoption can be unsettling.

Beyond Religion

While devoted religionists grapple with allegations of intolerance, questions around same-sex couple adoption are no simple matter for secularists and atheists either. Today, much of this intricacy comes from the rising influence of Queer Theory and its activism. Queer Theory, which challenges and deconstructs traditional norms, seeks to dismantle heteronormative structures, and even the conventional definition of 'family.'

If this were about merely accepting differing sexual behaviors using a live-and-let-live mentality, common ground might be more easily found. However, Queer Theory, historically integral to LGBT activism, has broader ambitions than just reducing stigmatization of the marginalized and advocating for social inclusion. Its academic literature identifies Queer Theory as a force actively seeking to dismantle cisgender, heteronormative structures, and the traditional family itself.

These 'traditional family' ideas, which continue to face critique as exclusionary and outdated, also inform objections to things like gay marriage and abortion, which represents a slippery slope for many.

It’s Such a Queer Theory

Were it merely a matter of a classical live-and-let-live ethos, the dust might settle on differences in sexual practices, but Queer Theory seems has an even more ambitious agenda than simply destigmatizing homosexuality and promoting social inclusion, as it has no limiting principle, and its literature pushes the edges of ethical boundaries and explicitly opposes normal.

In Saint Foucault: Towards a Gay Hagiography, David Halperin defines Queer in a way that underscores this point:

"Queer is by definition whatever is at odds with the normal, the legitimate, the dominant. There is nothing in particular to which it necessarily refers. It is an identity without an essence. 'Queer' then, demarcates not a positivity but a positionality vis-â-vis the normative".

One should note that this definition is cited from a book elevating Michel Foucault to the stature of a Saint. Foucault holds a significant place in both LGBT and Queer activism and academia, and often celebrated for his critical examination of power structures. However, there is also an irony in this; while he is renowned for examining the imbalance in power structures, he seemingly ignores the power dynamics inherent in adult-child relationships, as evidenced by his controversial views on child sexuality and consent laws.

In a 1978 dialogue with Guy Hocquenghem and Jean Danet, Foucault argued that age of consent laws are arbitrary, a stance that potentially opens the door for child exploitation. Furthermore, he advocated for children's autonomy in engaging in sexual relationships, which assumes children possess the same capacity as adults to make informed decisions about their sexual behavior.

“It could be that the child, with his own sexuality, may have desired that adult, he may even have consented, he may even have made the first moves. We may even agree that it was he who seduced the adult…”

-Michel Foucault

Source: Sexuality, Morality, and the Law

Given Foucault's alleged personal involvement with child prostitution with young boys, his motivations behind advocating for such radical changes in child sex laws raise serious ethical concerns. It becomes problematic to refer to Foucault as a "Saint," while vilifying those, including the religious right, whose stance is often rooted in a desire to protect children on the basis of religious beliefs. It also calls into question whether Foucault is celebrated religiously as a saint despite these dark elucidations or rather, because of them.

Guy Sorman accuses Michel Foucault of abusing boys in Tunisia

Thinking Sex

While one might disdain the suggestion that Foucault’s questionable stance on adult-child sexual relations is representative of homosexuality, Queer Theory at least has teased at child sexual relations since its genesis, including in Gayle Rubin’s early influential work, Thinking Sex, where she not only invokes the topic quite casually, but claims that child porn laws are ill-conceived and sides with NAMBLA in opposing them:

“The laws produced by the child porn panic are ill-conceived and misdirected. They represent far reaching alterations in the regulation of sexual behaviour and abrogate important sexual civil liberties. But hardly anyone noticed as they swept through Congress and state legislatures. With the exception of the North American Man/Boy Love Association and American Civil Liberties Union, no one raised a peep of protest.”

It's common today to label those who oppose same-sex adoption as homophobic, bigoted, or overly religious. However, when a book like "Saint Foucault" elevates Michel Foucault, a central figure in the development of Queer Theory, to the status of a religious figure, it's understandable that some might view Queer Theory as a replacement theology, and a dangerous one at that.

And Saint Foucault is not the only academic literature that elevates Queer Theory to the level of the sacred. In his paper, What Is Queer? Theology after Identity, Gerard Loughlin argues:

“As such, queer is a movement, a deployment, which unsettles all attempts to fix theology—and God—within the contingent lineaments of heteropatriarchy. Queer is what all theology should be.”’

There are other examples of how Queer Theory has been deployed, including supporting adult-child relationships under the veil of children’s rights advocacy, but this article won't delve into those in detail. Rubin and Foucault are cited as examples for illustration mainly due to their prominence in the movement. Suffice it to say, these concerns intensify the urgency of assessing the possibly profound impacts and consequences of such theorizations.

Push-backs abound

While it is not a pre-requisite for gay people to endorse Queer Theory, its principles have become such a staple of contemporary discourse to the degree that it is often taken for granted, with opponents often being labeled “alt-right.”

It’s also worth pointing out that most people don’t expect pedophilia to be the norm in Gay and Queer discourses, and indeed there is an effort in that community to recognize its connections to Queer Theory and distance themselves from it.

Indeed, people have recently been informing themselves of the source material and changing course. Some of the recent push-back is in the formation of groups like Gays Against Groomers and increasing social presence from accounts like LGB Alliance who actively distance themselves from the recent uptick in Queer activism. Other alliances are forming with groups like Moms For Liberty joining forces with Billboard Chris.

So it is becoming clear that, while proponents of Queer Theory are losing ground with the habitual allegations of homophobia and bigotry that might have once been more appropriate and applicable, the pushback does still include the same religious conservatives that where there before Queer Theory, Foucault, Halperin and Rubin, and unfortunately that probably includes people who actually hate gays for being gay, but the times, they are a-changing and most of the current crop of so-called conservatives prefer to identify as classically liberal.

Jesus revolution, or revolt?

Could it be that we are facing a roll-back of the hand-waving dismissal of the religious right when it comes to gay issues as well as efforts to put Queer Theory back into Pandora’s box? Or could it be that there are indeed some opportunistic bigots in the fray, going along for the ride? My guess is that it’s a mixture of both, but overwhelmingly the former.

Justified concerns?

The repeal of Roe vs. Wade in the Supreme Court decision of Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization, has sparked concerns within the LGBTQ+ community. The case, which overturned federal constitutional abortion protections, has raised questions about the potential impact on other rights that share the same constitutional basis. These rights, including same-sex sexual intimacy and marriage, are protected under the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause, which safeguards the right to “liberty” and privacy.

Justice Thomas, in his concurrence, suggested that the Court should reconsider all of its substantive due process precedents. While the majority opinion stated that the decision should not cast doubt on precedents unrelated to abortion, the willingness to overturn Roe, a significant precedent, has caused alarm. This concern is particularly prevalent among communities whose rights are based on the same legal principles.

So what?

But what does all of this have to do with a couple of gay dudes adopting a baby?

Well, nothing. And everything. Fact-checks of this story take the edge off of the idea that the baby was being abandoned, and that it isn’t receiving the full care that it deserves. I’ll even go out on a (not much of a) limb and say that these gay men probably have no nefarious intentions toward the child and no plans to take it to the Blue Oyster Bar any time soon.

A fighting chance to have a fighting chance

What we need to realize right now is that we are at a turning point in a very heated culture war where many things we have taken for granted are getting a do-over, or are at least becoming subject to a second look. That includes 14th amendment protections for various gay rights, which justifiably makes gay people concerned. What future changes might look like is hard to tell depending on who drives the bus going forward, but let’s not forget there are systems in place to keep democracy intact and constitutional rights.

People like James Lindsay, mentioned earlier, while being often maligned with negative labels, like “alt-right”, “fascist”, “reactionary” and others pejoratives has been sounding the clarion call for push-back against “woke” in all forms, of which Queer Theory is a part. However, he is also one of the more prominent voices warning about the hazards of reactionary and anti-liberal responses, including from Christian Nationalists. He speaks at length about the dangers of letting push-back become illiberal, and his message is worth heeding, lest things devolve into instability.

The tensions of recent years which have included elevated concerns about free speech and social conformity, especially on social media has led to the frustration of voices not being heard. This has legitimate potential to spill over into a bad place if the social pressure cooker isn’t properly decompressed.

While it can be disturbing to see things heat up on Twitter, let’s not forget that it is one of the few remaining social media platforms that hasn’t suppressed more nuanced and balanced conversations on these difficult topics, the least of which include “woke” and an increasing overreach of governments on public liberty.

It could be that the cauldron bubbling over in bird-land is a much-needed pressure valve for sentiments that might otherwise become explosive. Imagine the silent resentment that could build up if people didn’t have at least that one outlet?

Is this a Christo-fascist take-over of the alt-right come to take away your rights? Not really, but there is a real chance that things could change significantly in upcoming years. It’s crucial for us to remember that for all our desires to speak out against things wrong in the world, we don’t lose sight of our humanity.

As we navigate this complex time, we must remember the words of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn:

The line between good and evil runs not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either — but right through every human heart.

Finally, I’ll cite Lindsay once again, with a centering reminder: Stability Prevents Revolutions.

Capitalism.

The word has become a central and often contentious term in contemporary political discourse. It's been used to describe everything from the free market to corporate greed, from individualism to exploitation. Yet despite its ubiquitous presence, the meaning of Capitalism remains contested. Some see it as the engine of innovation and prosperity, while others view it as a system of oppression and inequality. In this article, we'll delve into the meaning of Capitalism, explore its historical origins, core principles, and contemporary usage and misuse.

On the pro side, Capitalism is seen as a synonym for free markets, competition, and entrepreneurship. Proponents argue that Capitalism allows individuals and businesses to pursue their own self-interest, leading to increased efficiency, innovation, and wealth creation. They believe that the profit motive incentivizes businesses to produce goods and services that people want and need, and that this leads to greater prosperity and well-being for society as a whole. They also argue that Capitalism is the most effective system for distributing resources and allocating goods and services, as it allows for the market to determine prices and quantities.

On the anti side, Capitalism is seen as a system that prioritizes profits over people, leading to inequality, exploitation, alienation and oppression. Opponents argue that Capitalism perpetuates a winner-takes-all mentality, where the wealthy accumulate all the resources and the poor struggle to get by on slave wages. They believe that the pursuit of profit leads businesses to prioritize short-term gains over long-term sustainability. They also argue that Capitalism creates power imbalances between employers and employees, laying the groundwork for exploitation and abuse.

Before Capitalism

Although we can hardly imagine a world without it today, the term “Capitalism” was not widely used or accepted until the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Prior to that, terms like “Mercantilism”, “commerce”, and “political economy” were more common in discussions of economic systems, and the state played a significant role in regulating and promoting economic activity. Indeed, it wasn’t until about 400 years ago that there was even something to call “Capitalism”.

During the medieval period, Europe was primarily an agrarian society with limited trade and commerce. Feudal lords held power, and the economy was based on a system of Feudalism in which serfs worked on the lord's land in exchange for protection and a share of the crops.

As the Middle Ages gave way to the Early Modern period, European economies began to diversify, with the growth of trade and commerce, and the emergence of artisanal and craft industries. The rise of towns and cities facilitated the growth of markets and trade networks, and the expansion of European colonialism brought new sources of wealth and resources.

However, economic growth during this period was uneven, with significant disparities in wealth and opportunity between different regions and social classes. The economy remained largely agrarian and was still characterized by feudal relationships between lords and peasants, and growth of trade and commerce was constrained by political instability and conflict.

The rise of Mercantilism and the birth of modern economics in the 16th and 17th centuries ushered in a new era of economic thought and practice. It prioritized the accumulation of wealth through international trade and the development of domestic industries, and advocated for government intervention in the economy to achieve these goals.

The Modern Economic Era

In the late 18th century, Scottish philosopher and economist Adam Smith introduced the idea of free markets in his seminal work, The Wealth of Nations. Smith argued that free markets, where individuals are free to pursue their own self-interest without interference from the state, were the most efficient and beneficial way to allocate resources and promote economic growth. This idea became a cornerstone of classical liberalism and laid the groundwork for laissez-faire economic policies that would be adopted in many countries in the following centuries.

During the period between the late 18th and mid-19th centuries, the adoption of this kind of laissez-faire economics brought significant advancements in prosperity across many nations. Belief in free-market principles led to a decrease in government intervention and regulations, allowing businesses and entrepreneurs to operate with greater flexibility and innovation. This led to an increase in industrialization, job creation, and economic growth.

As a result, living standards improved for many people, and new consumer goods became more widely available. However, the laissez-faire approach also contributed to social and economic inequality, as those who accumulated wealth enjoyed significant advantages over those who did not.

Enter Louis Blanc. Louis Blanc was a mid-19th century French politician and socialist who advocated for worker-controlled cooperatives supported by the government to address social and economic inequality. He also coined the term “Capitalism” in his 1850 work The Organization of Labour, using it pejoratively to criticize private property and shift the focus away from “free markets” towards a more negative portrayal of an economic system driven by the pursuit of profit.

He believed that the economic system at the time was fundamentally unfair, and argued that a small group of property owners wielded power to accumulate wealth and used it to exploit workers while maintaining their privileged status. Believing that the economic system was inherently exploitative, he considered it the government's responsibility to regulate and control the economy.

Dissecting Language

The word “Capitalism” is derived from the Latin word "capitalis," which means "of the head" or "pertaining to the head," referring to the accumulation of wealth and power in the hands of the few. This emphasizes the negative connotations of the term, suggesting that Capitalism is merely a system of greed and exploitation.

In contrast, the term “free market” emphasizes the positive connotations of economic freedom and individual choice. It is derived from the idea that individuals should own property and be free to engage in voluntary transactions without interference from the state or other forces.

Blanc's use of “Capitalism” as a rhetorical device to claim economic exploitation therefore, is significant because it creates a false dichotomy between Capitalism and economic freedom. It suggests that they are incompatible, when in reality, they aren’t mutually exclusive. As Blanc wrote in Organisation du Travail (1851):

What I call “Capitalism” that is to say the appropriation of capital by some to the exclusion of others.
— Louis Blanc, Organisation du Travail (1851)

Blanc's use of the term “Capitalism” gained acceptance among socialists and labor activists, and proponents of laissez-faire markets eventually adopted it to differentiate their ideology from other economic systems, not because they believed it was exploitative, but due to the growing influence of socialist ideas.

Even John Stuart Mill used the term in his 1861 book Considerations on Representative Government, where he argued that Capitalism was necessary for maintaining individual freedom and that government intervention in the economy should be limited. Although critical of laissez-faire capitalism, Mill's use of the term "Capitalism" in a positive light helped establish it as a widely recognized descriptor of the economic system based on private ownership and the pursuit of profit.

Revolutionary times beget revolutionary ideas

The mid-19th century was marked by political upheaval and social change. The French Revolution of 1789 triggered a wave of movements that would shape European history for decades, and Louis Blanc was a leading figure in this era. It was in this environment that he became interested in Socialism, which promised a better future for the working class.

While Blanc favored peaceful state reform, others such as Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, Mikhail Bakunin, and Georges Sorel believed in revolution as the only means to achieve a new Socialist order. They argued that the state was inherently oppressive and could never be used as a tool for liberation. Instead, they saw the overthrow of the state and the establishment of a new, Socialist order as the only means of achieving true freedom and equality.

In the midst of this politically charged atmosphere, Karl Marx emerged as one of the most influential socialist thinkers in history. Although he recognized figures like Louis Blanc, Marx critiqued their reformist approach, asserting that it failed to adequately confront the fundamental structures of capitalism. Marx insisted on the necessity of revolution rather than merely pursuing peaceful reforms. In The Class Struggles in France, (1848 to 1850), he writes:

"The Montagne was a bourgeois party; and although it numbered within its ranks many socialists, it was nevertheless compelled, as a party, to persist in the bourgeois attitude of confining itself to political reforms, which led it to a clash with the existing system."
(Part 1, Chapter 4)

Marx believed that the only way to achieve true economic and social equality was through the abolition of private property and the establishment of a collective ownership of the means of production. As such, he ultimately rejected Blanc's approach to reform and embraced a revolutionary path like those advocated by Proudhon, Bakunin, and Sorel. In The Communist Manifesto (1848), Marx and Engels assert their commitment to a revolutionary transformation:

"The Communists disdain to conceal their views and aims. They openly declare that their ends can be attained only by the forcible overthrow of all existing social conditions."
(Chapter IV: Position of the Communists in Relation to the Various Existing Opposition Parties)

He argued that the Capitalist system was inherently exploitative and that it could only be overthrown through a proletarian revolution. His conflict theory emphasized the struggle between two opposing classes, the ruling class (bourgeoisie) and the working class (proletariat) as the driving force of history, and he argued that the ultimate goal of Socialism was the establishment of a classless society in which the means of production were collectively owned and controlled.

Karl Marx's characterization of Capitalism, shared by Blanc, represents a distortion of the principles of free markets as understood in contemporary economics. His focus on the exclusivity of ownership of the means of production was at odds with the property rights of all individuals, including workers, and dismissive of the role of voluntary exchange in driving economic growth.

His conflict theory of class struggle further alienated his definition from the original concept of liberty for all as put forward by Adam Smith. As a result, Marx's definition of capitalism has become associated with negative connotations of greed and exploitation, rather than the positive connotations of service, voluntary exchange, and the potential for innovation and prosperity typically associated with free markets.

Revolution, revolution, revolution.

Marx's ideas had a significant impact on world history, which is still being felt today. Implementation of Marxist ideas in various countries around the world have had catastrophic consequences for millions. Under the Soviet Union, Joseph Stalin's implementation led to mass death through famine, purges, and forced labor camps. Similarly, in China under Mao Zedong, Marxist policies during the Cultural Revolution and the Great Leap Forward resulted in tens of millions of deaths.

Under the Khmer Rouge regime of Pol Pot in Cambodia, Marxism was implemented in a particularly brutal and genocidal manner, resulting in the deaths of over a million people through forced labor, executions, and genocide. The current regime in North Korea, which still identifies as Marxist-Leninist, has been accused of numerous human rights violations, including political repression, torture, and forced labor.

Despite these historical examples, Marxist ideas continue to shape political and economic debates in many countries, with some governments adopting socialist policies and ideologies in Europe, South America, and elsewhere.

An odd intersection

Adam Smith and Karl Marx represent opposing camps in their respective creations, but they were not without some common ground. For example, Smith was not an uncritical supporter of the system as it existed in his time. He believed that the state had a role to play in regulating the excesses of the market and ensuring that workers were not exploited.

Marx and Smith also shared a similar Labor Theory of Value. Smith believed that the value of a commodity was determined by the amount of labor that went into its production. This concept was central to his theory of the “invisible hand”, in which he argued that the pursuit of individual self-interest in a free market economy would lead to socially beneficial outcomes.

Marx expanded on Smith's labor theory of value by adding the concept of socially necessary labor time. He used this concept to argue that Capitalists exploited workers by paying them less than the full value of their labor, which echoed Blanc's rhetorical coinage of Capitalism as an exploitative system motivated by greed.

Despite their intersection in this area, the Labour Theory of Value became one of the more vulnerable contributions of both Smith and Marx. It has been all but abandoned since then, first displaced by the Marginal Utility Theory, and then by the Subjective Theory of Value. Eventually, the Subjective Theory of Value replaced the Labor Theory of Value altogether.

Missed opportunity and lost lives

The Subjective Theory of Value was developed by Carl Menger, Léon Walras, and William Stanley Jevons in the 1870s and challenged the Labor Theory of Value that Marx built upon. It argued that the value of a good is subjective and determined by the individual preferences and desires of consumers, rather than the labor put into producing it.

Carl Menger, in his book Principles of Economics (1871), states:

"Value is thus nothing inherent in goods, no property of them, nor an independent thing existing by itself. It is a judgment economizing men make about the importance of the goods at their disposal for the maintenance of their lives and well-being."
(Chapter 1, Section 3)

It was a timely and more succinctly accurate assessment of how markets work, but unfortunately went largely overlooked in the fervor for Marxist revolution. One cannot help but wonder how much bloodshed could have been avoided if the Subjective Theory of Value had been embraced earlier, and the true nature of markets and their capacity for prosperity had been more fully appreciated.

Despite this well-established understanding by economists today, the term “Capitalism” continues to be used in both positive and anachronistic negative ways, often resulting in a confusing and polarized discourse around free markets and their role in society.

With Capitalism often being used as a misnomer for free markets, and as a straw man for critics of free market economics, it is important to distinguish between the actual free market system and the caricature that is often presented as “Capitalism.”

While cancel culture and Woke activism have been lauded by some as a means of holding people accountable and promoting progress, they can have a chilling effect on free speech and open dialogue, as well as perpetuating a culture of intolerance and tribalism. In this article, we will explore the potential dangers of cancel culture and Woke activism, and consider how they can impede rather than facilitate progress towards a more equal and free society.

Regimes Compared

Leninism, which emerged under Vladimir Lenin's leadership, emphasized the importance of a vanguard party and the use of violence to achieve political goals. Leninism sought to impose a particular ideology on society and viewed dissent as a threat to its power. While Woke culture shares some similarities with Leninism in terms of its emphasis on ideology and suppression of dissent, it does not necessarily focus on state ownership of the means of production or the establishment of a planned economy.

Stalinism was a regime that emerged in the Soviet Union under Joseph Stalin's leadership. It sought to establish a single, totalitarian ideology that would be imposed on all citizens. Stalinism relied on the use of fear and intimidation to silence dissent, as well as state control of the economy and violent purges to maintain power. While Woke cancel culture shares some similarities with Stalinism in terms of silencing opposing views through public shaming and intimidation, it does not rely on state control of the economy to the same extent as Stalinism.

The Khmer Rouge was a regime that emerged in Cambodia in the 1970s. It emphasized radical egalitarianism and sought to eliminate perceived class enemies through the use of violence. The Khmer Rouge aimed to uproot traditional power structures and replace them with a new social order. While there are similarities between the Khmer Rouge and Woke culture in terms of their aim to create a new social order, the Khmer Rouge relied heavily on forced labor and the elimination of educated classes, which are not as evident in Woke culture, where the institutions of education are leveraged to “conscientize” activists.

Mao's Cultural Revolution, which took place in China during the 1960s and 1970s, aimed to eliminate perceived "bourgeois" elements from society and promote a new revolutionary culture. The Cultural Revolution resulted in the suppression of dissent and the use of "struggle sessions," where individuals were publicly shamed and forced to confess to their supposed crimes. This practice is reminiscent of cancel culture's public shaming and contemporary DEI practices like coercing confessions of "privilege."

These tactics during the Cultural Revolution eventually led to a high degree of violence, mass mobilization, and terror tactics, some of which we see emerging today, although they are not entirely foreign to Western activism. The shared root of Marxist rhetoric led to the formation of left-wing terror groups like the Marxist-Leninist Red Army Faction in Germany and the Communist Weather Underground in the United States, who bombed the Capitol Building.

The Western Woke movement, with its emphasis on social justice, can be traced back through Critical Pedagogy to the Frankfurt School and Marxist antecedents. While Critical Pedagogy purports to create critical thinkers in the educational context, its facilitators employ a political "conscientization" technique that prioritizes the creation of activists over knowledge and skills development. In fact, Critical Pedagogy explicitly condemns political neutrality in education. One of its prominent figures, still active today is William Ayers, a former member of the Weather Underground.

“As long as it’s based on profit, we’ll have the violence to oppose it.”
Bernadeen Dohrn in an interview with Phil Donahue alongside William Ayers

Similarly, Mao's Cultural Revolution relied heavily on the education system to form the Red Guard, a paramilitary organization of young people who carried out Mao's political agenda. The Red Guard was formed through Mao's vision of “re-educating” China's youth, which involved the elimination of traditional education and the promotion of Maoist ideology. Students were encouraged to criticize, physically attack, and sometimes even kill their teachers and other authority figures who were seen as bourgeois or reactionary. In this way, the education system was used as a tool for political indoctrination and activism, much like how Critical Pedagogy emphasizes the importance of politicizing education to generate activists.

This has led to growing concerns that Woke cancel culture is leading to a new form of authoritarianism, with echoes of Mao's Cultural Revolution. While there are differences in the specific tactics employed by Mao's Cultural Revolution and Woke cancel culture, there are also clear similarities in their emphasis on rooting out perceived enemies of the revolution, coupled with the suppression of dissent and eventual reliance on violence. These similarities suggest that cancel culture may be the latest manifestation of a broader trend towards authoritarianism in Western societies.

Tactical Playbook

Some specific tactics used during Mao's Cultural Revolution and their parallels in contemporary Woke culture:

1. Public shaming and canceling: One of the key tactics used during Mao's Cultural Revolution was the use of “struggle sessions,” where individuals would be publicly humiliated and forced to confess to their supposed crimes. This tactic has parallels in contemporary Woke culture's public shaming and canceling of individuals who hold opposing views.

2. Ideological purity tests: Mao's Cultural Revolution placed a heavy emphasis on ideological purity and the elimination of “bourgeois” elements from society. This is similar to contemporary Woke culture's focus on “anti-racism,” “social justice,” and other progressive ideologies, and the demonization of individuals or groups who do not subscribe to these beliefs.

3. Suppression of dissent: The Cultural Revolution involved the use of violence and the suppression of dissent in order to maintain control. This is similar to contemporary Woke culture's attempts to silence opposing views through censorship, intimidation, and threats of violence.

4. Cultural revolution: Mao's Cultural Revolution essentially aimed to transform society by creating a new revolutionary culture. This is similar to contemporary Woke culture's focus on changing social norms and values in order to create a more “equitable” society.

These are just a few examples of the specific tactics used during Mao's Cultural Revolution and their parallels in contemporary Woke culture. While there are certainly some differences between the two, there are clear indications that the Cultural Revolution shares more similarities with Woke culture than any other historical regime.

Historical Link and Modern Threat

After Mao's death in 1976, China underwent significant changes, including economic reforms that allowed for a market-oriented economy. However, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) retained its grip on power, and the tactics employed during the Cultural Revolution were not abandoned but rather refined. For example, instead of relying on mass mobilization campaigns and the Red Guards to maintain control, the CCP began to emphasize the importance of “stability maintenance” and “social management” through the use of surveillance technology and censorship.

This has enabled the CCP to maintain a one-party state while allowing for economic growth and modernization. Today, China's government is known for its aggressive tactics in silencing dissent and controlling information, and it is not surprising that these tactics are now being exported abroad as part of China's larger goal of expanding its influence and power.

Recent revelations about CCP aggressive embedded influence in the West, including the Pras Michel case, interference in Canadian elections, and unprecedented intelligence gathering through popular apps like TikTok provide a glimpse into a much larger issue. China has long been known to engage in covert activities, including espionage, propaganda, and disinformation campaigns. These efforts are all part of the CCP's larger goal to displace the United States as the dominant superpower and become the world's preeminent global power.

The CCP's push to displace the US dollar with the Yuan as the global currency is just one example of this ambition. By establishing the Yuan as the world's reserve currency, China could wield even greater economic influence and become less dependent on the US economy. At the same time, China's partnership with Russia and its involvement in conflicts such as Ukraine serve to expand its geopolitical reach and create new spheres of influence.

Demoralization

One objection some might raise to the idea that Woke culture shares similarities with Communist regimes like the CCP is the difference in how they treat different groups. For example, China's own policies regarding people with gender identity issues are far less progressive than those of the West, yet China’s society remains stable on the issue.

This does not necessarily contradict the idea that Woke culture can be employed as a form of demoralization warfare, which is consistent with the CCP's “Three Warfares” concept. In fact, the Western trans movement has been mobilized in ways that are divisive and destabilizing, rather than supportive of social cohesion, often backed by “Antifa” groups carrying Communist flags and sowing agitation, similarly to the way their presence influenced the 2020 George Floyd riots.

A 2021 report on Military and Security Developments Involving the People’s Republic of China, indicates that the “Three Warfares” concept, developed by China’s People’s Liberation Army (PLA) suggests the use of demoralization tactics. This is not unique to the CCP, and we should expect such tactics to be employed by any adversary seeking domination.

The report states:

Since at least 2003, the PLA has been developing the “Three Warfares” concept to demoralize adversaries and influence foreign and domestic public opinion during conflicts. Psychological warfare uses propaganda, deception, threats, and coercion to affect the adversary’s decision making, while also countering adversary psychological operations.

Indeed, the tactic of propagandist demoralization of the West is not unique to China’s PLA. KGB defector Yuri Bezmenov from the former Soviet Union described Communist strategies to demoralize the West at length in various interviews given in the 1980s. Given their shared animus with the West, is it any wonder that Xi Jinpeng and Vladimir Putin are joining together?

It is clear that the CCP is engaging in a multi-faceted approach to subvert the West and establish its dominance. From covert operations to economic policies, China is playing a long game that seeks to erode the power and influence of the United States and other Western powers. It remains to be seen how effective these efforts will be, but it is clear that the CCP is not content to simply be a regional power and has its sights set on much greater ambitions.

Consequences of Central Planning

The dangers of central planning, as seen in Mao's Cultural Revolution, are not limited to China. The World Economic Forum's (WEF) advocacy of central planning under the guise of stakeholder capitalism has already had disastrous consequences in Sri Lanka, where the WEF guided environmental central planning of farming led to an economic crash. Similarly, Dutch farmers are pushing back against the government's implementation of WEF-styled measures. The WEF's “Great Reset” agenda, with its emphasis on stakeholder capitalism, is a blueprint for global central planning by proxy. With such an approach, the risks of inefficiency, corruption, and misallocation of resources loom large, and the lessons of history must be heeded.

The potential dangers of a global planned economy, as advocated by the World Economic Forum (WEF) under the guise of stakeholder capitalism, cannot be ignored. The implementation of ESG scores and central bank digital currencies would mean an unprecedented level of centralized control over economic and social activities, echoing the centralized planning seen in Mao's Cultural Revolution and other communist regimes, only this time on a global scale through a Cartel System.

What is particularly concerning is the admiration shown by Klaus Schwab, head of the WEF, for China as a world leader. At Davos, he praised China's “resolute and vigorous” actions in dealing with the COVID-19 pandemic and referred to China as a “role model” for climate change efforts in his book, The Fourth Industrial Revolution. Such praise for a country with a track record of human rights violations, censorship, and authoritarianism, not to mention its terrible emissions record, raises questions about the true motives of the WEF's push for global systemic change.

If a global planned economy were to be implemented, the potential for abuse of power and corruption cannot be ignored. The lack of competition and market forces could lead to inefficiencies and stagnation in innovation, as well as a lack of incentive for individuals to improve their own lives. The suppression of dissent and elimination of perceived enemies, as seen in Mao's China, could become normalized in a society where dissent is not tolerated.

The parallels between Mao's Cultural Revolution and contemporary Woke culture, with their emphasis on groupthink and suppression of dissent, further highlight the dangers of a global planned economy. It is crucial that we remain vigilant and advocate for individual autonomy and free expression in the face of these potential threats to our fundamental rights and freedoms.

Global Consequences

The similarities between the Cultural Revolution and Woke culture are concerning, especially when considering the potential implications of a global planned economy. If the WEF's goals of systemic change and stakeholder capitalism are achieved, along with the implementation of ESG scores and central bank digital currencies, the result could be a level of government control over economic and social activities not seen before, with the CCP dominant.

WEF Boss Klaus Schwab Says China A ‘Role Model’ For Many Nations

This type of centralized planning has historically resulted in disastrous consequences, as seen in Mao's Cultural Revolution and other communist regimes. The suppression of dissent and elimination of perceived enemies could be amplified in a global planned economy, leading to a chilling effect on free speech and individual rights. The use of “struggle sessions” and public shaming, as seen in Mao's China, could become more prevalent and normalized in a society where dissent is not tolerated.

Furthermore, a global planned economy would give unprecedented power to those in charge, leading to abuse of power and corruption. A globally disrupted price system could have unprecedented consequences, including resource and supply shortages, stagnation due to the lack of market forces and competition, and total economic collapse.

In short, the similarities between Mao's Cultural Revolution and contemporary Woke culture, coupled with the potential for a global planned economy, raise significant concerns about the future of individual rights and freedoms. It is important to be aware of these potential dangers and to continue to advocate for a society that values individual autonomy and free expression.