MODERN SOCIETY 4ND THE ILLUSION OF 4UTHENTICITY

a bald woman dressed in black looks at herself in a mirror that reflects several faces

This article contains 5.365 words.

Welcome to the 21st century, where authenticity has become a bargaining chip, a carefully choreographed performance between likes and algorithms. We live in the age of ‘plasticised authenticity’, where we smile at selfies that hide existential crises, share motivational phrases while procrastinating in front of Netflix and celebrate individuality by wearing the same branded T-shirts.

In this article, we'll delve into the bowels of the modern contradiction. With one foot in philosophy and the other in social media, we'll uncover how the quest for ‘being authentic’ has become a maze of distorted mirrors - where even rebellion is pre-formatted.

The Age of the Mask Self: Introduction

We can't deny that we live in curious times - to say the least. Never has there been so much talk about being authentic, about being ‘ourselves’, while what is really happening is that we have never been so artificially modelled. Modern, technological society, in its almost hysterical obsession with identity, has turned authenticity into a shop window.

Advertisingbanners, influencers and advertisements for big and small brands shout ‘Be yourself!’, as if they were the new prophets of the apocalypse of the ego, but meanwhile they try to sell us perfumes with pheromones and spiritual self-knowledge courses via WhatsApp.

Being authentic has become a religious product, and like any good product, it needs to be wrapped in plastic, promoted and - of course - approved by the algorithm's metrics. We are no longer living in the golden age of ‘who am I?’, but in the age of ‘how can I seem more like myself than others?’.

The irony of it all is: we buy it! Whether with likes, shares, our sanity or our most precious treasures... our time and focus.

Guy Debord already warned us, ‘...in the society of the spectacle, reality has become the image of a simulacrum of sincerity.’

You may be asking yourself:

‘What's wrong with all this? Big deal...’

I'll answer you: The problem isn't that we want to be true, it's the staging of performative truths. The great cult of authenticity orchestrated by society has paradoxically killed what it promised to save: the genuine self.

 

A Brief History of the Roots of Authenticity


The Tragedy of Individualism, the Industrial Revolution and the Mass Production of Identity

Before it became a marketing product and before we became this digitalised mob, authenticity was a philosophical ideal, something to be lived and not advertised.

The Stoics, such as Epictetus and Seneca, advocated a life guided by reason, in harmony with nature and free from external distractions. Living this way was, for them, the essence of being true to oneself. No external approval or followers. Just coherence and inner sincerity.

Plato, on the other hand, saw truth as something outside of us; in his Allegory of the Cave, he gave us the idea that we only see projections of reality, but never the real truth.

Aristotle saw excellence of character - virtue - as the way to live fully. Nobody thought of ‘being authentic’ or ‘being different’; authenticity was synonymous with integrity.

Fast forward to the 18th century, where Jean-Jacques Rousseau was already grumbling about how society corrupts ‘the natural man’. In his 1775 work ‘Discourse on the Origin of Inequality’, he denounced the distortion of the human soul by society. For him, we are born good and unique, but civilisation packages us up in gift wrapping with bindings of convention - this criticism echoes in our ears to this day, due to its topicality.

(The paradox is that Rousseau preached authenticity, but spent his life running away from creditors and abandoning his own children - is he an unwitting precursor to the influencers who post ‘be yourself!’ while receiving sponsorship from botox clinics?)

A little later, the game changes. With the arrival of factories in the 19th century, not only objects were standardised - identities were too. Karl Marx wrote ‘Capital’ in 1867, where he spoke of and even predicted the alienation of the working class.

A few years later, the existentialism of Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir said that we are condemned to freedom. Translated from philosophical to English, this means that no one is going to tell you who you are, that's 100 per cent your responsibility, it's up to you to build yourself. But building yourself up requires the courage to deconstruct yourself and this process is painful - in other words, people run away from it like the devil would from a cross.

It was also in this century that the Romantics began to transform the ‘I’ into a performance. The myth of the misunderstood genius, the tortured artist and ‘that's who I am’ emerged.

The romantic turn and the birth of the inner self

Rousseau launched the idea that we are naturally good, but corrupted by society and this idea exploded like gunpowder in the European mentality. The inner self - that which is inside, hidden and needs to be expressed, became the new sacred.

The impasse? This ‘inside’ becomes a safe that everyone tries to open, but no one knows exactly what's in it. Nietzsche would come along later to kick everyone in the kidney and say: ‘God is dead - and so is the authentic self, if you don't create it.’ For him, being authentic was much more than discovering who we are. It was about inventing who you want to be - a project, not a stable essence.

two bald women stare into each other's eyes, around them misshapen faces in mirrors

The Postmodern Ego: Identity as Startup

In the 21st century, the sociologist Zygmunt Bauman, in his book ‘Liquid Modernity’, depicted a world where even relationships have an expiry date - everything is fleeting, even our notion of ‘self’. We are complex and constantly evolving beings. Although this is liberating, it can also cause - in some - a certain panic.

The concept of ‘be yourself’ has become confusing, since firstly we are unclear about our true identity. How is it possible to preserve the idea that our identity is something consistent when we live in a world where people change jobs every two years, relationships last only a few months and technology reshapes everything every week?

In this context, authenticity becomes an unattainable ideal. While our identity becomes more fluid, society paradoxically still demands that we be consistent. This causes fatigue and weariness as we try to maintain an external ‘coherence’, while internally we are a mixture of interconnected emotions and identities.

Today, we build our identity in the same way we organise a Pinterest feed, carefully choosing each element. We select our convictions, causes, passions and points of view with the caution of someone who selects hashtags (not out of conviction, but because they ‘perform well’).

Psychoanalyst Elisabeth Roudinesco argues that the contemporary individual is trapped between the desire to be singular and the fear of being excluded. Neuroscientist Tania Singer investigates this duality, showing how our brains are stimulated both by external recognition and by the validation we receive from social groups. The result? A performative spiral of authenticity.

Brené Brown, a vulnerability researcher, gained notoriety when she argued that ‘to be authentic is to reveal your imperfections’. Atrocious irony: her message has been picked up by coaches who market ‘authenticity in 7 simple steps’ programmes.

The Simulation of Identity, Authenticity as a Social Performance and the Myth of ‘Individual Choice’

If Bauman speaks of the liquid, Baudrillard speaks of hyperreality. For him, we live in a world where signs (images, discourses, symbols) have become more real than reality itself. Identity, then, is no longer ‘who I am’, but ‘what I represent’. And this representation is always simulated.

You post a photo of a happy moment. The photo gets likes. The person feels validated. But is that person really happy or did they just want to appear happy? This is the simulation. A theatre where everyone knows it's an act, but pretends it's not. Authenticity? Only if it's scripted.

Erving Goffman, in his work ‘The Representation of the Self in Everyday Life’, already described social life as a theatre. Each one of us acts, wears costumes and uses sets. The problem is that we forget where the stage ends and the backstage begins. And social networks are endless stages with invisible audiences.

The philosopher Byung-Chul Han, in ‘The Burnout Society’, warns: the freedom to be ‘whoever we want’ makes us prisoners. We choose between 50 types of coffee, but we follow identical life scripts - get married, buy a house, post #gratitude.

An example of this would be the ‘behaviourtrends’ on social media. Being authentic today means dancing to the same choreography as 10 million other people.

The Authenticity Economy, Personal Branding and the Culture of the Mass Self

If products used to be sold, today personalities and feelings are sold. Modern people, especially on the web, have learnt to turn their image into currency. And ‘personalbranding ’ is the new religion. You are no longer just you. You're a brand, with a visual identity, colour palette, tone of voice and even a defined purpose - even if it's fabricated.

Digital influencers are the priests of this new liturgy. They don't just sell products; they sell lifestyles, they sell ‘truth’. But make no mistake, the backstage is always full of scripts, strategies and content calendars.

This phenomenon is a cruel mirror of society. Everyone wants to be ‘like us’, but with impeccable aesthetics. It's the paradox of instagrammable authenticity: look real, but with a filter.

Christopher Lasch wrote in ‘The Culture of Narcissism’ that the ‘self’ has become a marketing project. The idea of the self has been colonised by an emotional capitalism where even suffering needs to be well-pocketed. Crying videos with inspiring subtitles are the new digital testament.

We want to be authentic... as long as everyone watches and applauds. How ironic!

Yuval Noah Harari, in ‘21 Lessons for the 21st Century’, predicts: ‘The next big industry will be the sale of meaning.’ Prophecy fulfilled: digital gurus are selling ‘life purpose’ courses while drumming up engagement with memes about burnout.

And what do you know, even rebellion has been monetised by the mainstream. Brands such as Diesel use slogans such as ‘Be a Follower’ - a critique of network culture that, of course, you can buy printed on a $ 500.00 T-shirt.

The Marketing of Vulnerability, Boutique Spirituality and the Paradox of Conscious Consumption

As I wrote earlier, in recent years vulnerability has gained the status of symbolic capital. Brené Brown, a leading researcher and author on the subject, has shown the importance of having the courage to be imperfect. However, the market has appropriated this with frightening speed.

Companies now encourage CEOs to tell their weaknesses in TED Talks, campaigns exploit emotional traumas to generate identification and even mistakes become marketing assets. It's the logic of ‘beautiful failure’.

Vulnerability has also become a product. And like any product, it can be packaged, scripted and sold. This doesn't mean that being human is bad - but when this humanity is orchestrated, it loses its transformative power. Authenticity has become a performance of empathy. And empathy has become a KPI (Key Performance Indicator) for engagement.

Oh, and being authentic has also come to mean being Zen. Meditating, practising yoga, drinking kombucha and matcha tea, reading Osho quotes and identifying as ‘a being of light trying to survive in a dense world’. All this is shared in stories.

American psychologist and writer Barbara Ehrenreich criticises toxic positivity as a form of existential negationism. The search for authenticity has become a spiritual gymkhana.

Philosopher Slavoj Žižek ironises: ‘Buying a cup of “ethical” coffee at Starbucks is like having sex with a prostitute and donating the change to the orphanage.’ ‘Sustainable authenticity’ often only serves to assuage our guilt at being complicit in a predatory system.

 

The Authenticity Industry


How brands sell ‘truth’ and buy trust

If there's anything more profitable than a good product, it's a good story. Brands have realised that it's not enough to offer quality. They need to tell a narrative that makes the consumer feel like they're buying something real - even if it's made by an AI in China.

Marketing 5.0 relies on storytelling, the humanisation of companies and so-called ‘emotional capital’. It's coffee with beans selected from sustainable farms, clothes made by ‘local artisans’, cosmetics with a social cause. Everything comes with a story, a mission, a purpose. Everything seems... authentic.

But what lies behind this is a market that has realised that selling authenticity is more profitable than selling products. A study by the Harvard Business Review already pointed out that consumers are more loyal to brands they consider ‘authentic’. And what is authenticity in this context? Something that seems real - even if it isn't.

Authenticity has become currency. Brands position themselves as ‘real’, ‘transparent’, ‘made by real people’. Influencers create ‘authentic content’, companies promote ‘honest organisational culture’. All packaged in emotional storytelling, with a minimalist piano soundtrack.

But make no mistake: it's all metrics. There's no room for true inner chaos. Being too human is still a bug.

Shelf Spirituality, Existential Coaching and The Rebellion of the Impure Self

If religion once promised salvation, today personal development promises fulfilment. And with that, coaches, positivity gurus and masters of authenticity have emerged - all with courses, mentoring and best-selling books. Just pay up and you'll be yourself.

This new spiritual market capitalises on modern emptiness. It offers simple solutions to complex existential dilemmas. And it sells authenticity as an individual achievement - as long as it comes with a subscription fee.

Meditation? With an app. Mindfulness? With certification. Self-knowledge? In 12 steps. The problem is not the tools, but the superficiality with which they are sold. It's fast-food spirituality: it satiates quickly but doesn't nourish.

What if true authenticity lies in accepting your own falsehood? In recognising contradictions without having to correct them with a filter? Slavoj Žižek, with his merciless irony, would say that the only way to be authentic today is to admit your own artificiality.

Perhaps authenticity is less about transparency and more about consistency. Being who you are even when no one is watching and that is, for many, terrifying.

 

Social Networks and Curated Reality

 

The Cult of the Digital Self

Everyone knows that social networks are showcases for the ego. Every post is an exhibition, every like a validation. The digital ‘me’ needs to perform, charm and engage. And so we create versions of ourselves optimised for the algorithm. A daily theatre, in real time.

According to Sherry Turkle, a psychologist at MIT, we live connected but lonely lives. We create avatars of ourselves that become more important than the real experience. We post photos of dinner, but we don't savour it. We film the sunrise, but we don't feel it. Even our emotions become content.

The consequence? Life becomes a shop window. And outside of it, boredom, anxiety and doubt reign. ‘Who am I when nobody's watching?’.

The culture of well-being and toxic positivity

As mentioned above, the wellness industry is on the rise. Yoga and kombucha, along with crystals and plant-based eating - all of this can be good for you. But it can also become a trap, when the search for balance becomes an obsession, toxic positivity is born and reality is denied.

Phrases like ‘everything happens for a reason’ or ‘you attract what you vibrate’ blame the individual for suffering that is often structural and hide an uncomfortable reality: sometimes life is hard - whether consciously or unconsciously, whether as a matter of frequency or because we ‘planned’ our lives before we incarnated on this plane.

To be authentic in this scenario is to accept the shadow that exists within us, the bad days, the chaos, the doubt. It means not having ready-made answers. But that doesn't engage, and if it does, it doesn't show.

 

Pop Culture and Serial Authenticity

 

Reality shows, scripted documentaries and production authenticity

Nothing screams ‘authenticity’ louder than a good reality show, right? Again, we're dealing with a carefully produced illusion. Reality doesn't mean real. It means ‘looking real enough to entertain the people’, aka the politics of bread and circuses. From Big Brother to Blind Marriage, these programmes offer a prefabricated version of human spontaneity.

There are scripts, scene directions, strategic cuts, villains and heroes assembled in the edit. Authenticity becomes a spectacle with a confidentiality contract. Are the tears real? Maybe. But they are captured with three cameras, professional lighting and a hand-picked soundtrack to amplify the emotion.

And the documentaries? Not all of them, of course, but many follow the same logic. ‘Based on real events’ has become synonymous with “the version that most moves the target audience”. It's the fictionalisation of reality. And the public accepts it - because they prefer a beautiful truth to naked reality.

A bald woman looks at herself in a mirror where another woman is reflected with her back turned.

What we learnt from Black Mirror and other ignored warnings

The series Black Mirror, created by Charlie Brooker, has already warned us - repeatedly, by the way - about the dangers of a world where technology and vanity merge into a smiling dystopia. Episodes like Nosedive, where people are rated with stars in real time, or Fifteen Million Merits, where authenticity is a currency, seem more than fiction: they are almost survival manuals disguised as entertainment.

Meanwhile, we ignore the warnings. We keep feeding algorithms, seeking approval in likes, trading our personality traits for digital relevance. Fiction has already become reality, and yet we continue like moths to the blue light of the screen.

Pop culture moulds our ideas - and deceives us by promising something that, deep down, it never delivers. But the spectacle is addictive and the audience is complicit.

The Philosophy of the Anti-I

Friedrich Nietzsche, the punk of philosophers, already mocked the idea of a true essence. For him, traditional morality was a farce - a system invented to control, not liberate. Authenticity, then, would not be about discovering an ‘immaculate inner self’, but about creating something new by destroying what has been imposed on us.

He proposed the transvaluation of values: questioning everything we consider right, good and true. The path of the ‘beyond-man’ (Übermensch), of the creator of oneself. Authenticity, here, is creative power. It's becoming the author of one's own existence and not the reproducer of social expectations.

It's hard, yes. It's uncomfortable, for sure. But it's liberating. Nietzsche doesn't promise happiness, but rather intensity. Living with your teeth bared, laughing at your pain and spitting on conventions.

Simone de Beauvoir, an existentialist and feminist philosopher, also delved into the complexity of being. For her, we are not born complete human beings - we become them. The human being is a project, always in movement, under construction.

The concept of becoming-authentic is central: it is the constant effort to assume freedom, to refuse ready-made roles and choose responsibility. To be authentic, according to Beauvoir, is to live without running away from the anguish of being free.

This means denying bad faith - that existential excuse we use to conform. ‘I can't change’, “it's my way”, “it's what's expected of me”, these are all masks - excuses for not changing. To be authentic is to strip off these crutches and face the abyss of choice. Freedom as a burden - but also as salvation.

Authenticity as a Privilege

Not everyone can simply ‘be authentic’. Saying ‘be yourself’ to a black, trans, poor, peripheral or marginalised person is a gesture of ignorance or privilege. For many, expressing oneself as one is can mean risk, exclusion and/or violence.

Authenticity, therefore, is not universal. It is a right denied to millions, because the world demands that certain bodies conform, that certain voices are silenced, that certain presences are invisible. And this is one of the great ironies of modern discourse: it sells authenticity, but only to those who fit the mould of what is acceptable.

Philosopher Angela Davis points this out incisively: ‘In a racist society, it's not enough not to be racist. You have to be anti-racist.’ The same logic applies to authenticity: it's not enough to celebrate it - you have to be aware of it and fight for everyone to have the right to exercise it.

Who can afford authenticity?

Being authentic is expensive. It requires time, space, emotional support and freedom of choice. How many can afford it? Can a young black man from the periphery, pressured to ‘behave’ in order to survive, be himself? Can a woman in a male-dominated corporate environment express herself without fear of reprisals?

Authenticity has become a luxury. A privilege disguised as a right. You have the freedom to be yourself - as long as it doesn't threaten the prevailing order. The rest is liberal romanticisation.

Authenticity and Politics: Truth as a Strategy

Truth is living in dark times. The rise of post-truth - a term popularised by the Oxford Dictionary in 2016 - marks an era where objective facts matter less than emotions and personal beliefs. And in this scenario, authenticity becomes political currency.

Politicians who ‘speak their minds’ are exalted, even if they talk rubbish and spread lies. ‘Frankness’ becomes synonymous with truth, and truth a dispensable detail. It's the theatre of authenticity: the politician who eats pastel at the market and goes live in a T-shirt, who ‘belongs to the people’. All staged.

The philosopher Hannah Arendt warned us about the danger of systematic lies as a tool of domination. Today, lies come with the guise of sincerity. It's dressed up as raw honesty and the population, hungry for something real, accepts the false that appears to be true.

Populism and the illusion of transparency

Populism feeds on this aesthetic of the real. It promises to be transparent, accessible and authentic, but what it delivers is emotional manipulation on an industrial scale. A spectacle of proximity that masks the absence of a real project.

The illusion of authenticity becomes an ideological weapon. Those who disagree ‘don't understand the people’. Those who question ‘are elitists’ and so authenticity becomes a shield against critical thinking.

Dangerous, because the search for something genuine cannot make us blind to what is false. The truth, however difficult, should always be more valuable than the convenience of a well-staged speech.

Spirituality and Authenticity

In recent years, spirituality has been assimilated into market logic (what a novelty). What used to be a long and detailed journey is now simplified and sold as an app. With just a few clicks, you can ‘balance your chakras’, ‘meditate like a monk’ or even ‘discover your life purpose’ - all during your lunch break.

This phenomenon is being called liquid spirituality by contemporary authors. An experience that moulds itself to the user's time, mood and algorithm and, of course, it's super shareable, with the right to progress charts, achievements and motivational feedback, how practical is that!

Does this mean we're more connected to ourselves?

No, but it does mean that we've managed to turn even self-transcendence into a KPI (Key Performance Indicator). The search for authenticity has become a tab on mobile phones.

But, of course, even Buddhism, which in its essence preaches detachment and the emptying of the ego, has become the subject of Instagram posts . Phrases from the Dalai Lama are used out of context, and images of monks illustrate reflections that have nothing to do with meditation. Millennial philosophy has become a selfie caption.

Sharing wisdom is marvellous, but distorting it to fit into a lifestyle aesthetic is another story. The sacred has become a ‘concept’ and serenity a performance. Spiritual authenticity today is a Zen pose with natural lighting. This fast-food spirituality seduces because it's easy but, like any edible substance, it's also low in nutrients and in the long run it's only a problem. It feeds, but it doesn't transform and without transformation, there is no authenticity - only repetition.

Emptiness as Modern Essence

We've never been so connected, but at the same time we've never felt so alone. The WHO has already declared depression to be one of the biggest causes of disability in the world. But more than a clinical problem, modern depression is often a philosophical symptom: that of meaninglessness.

This feeling of being out of place, of not fitting in, of living on autopilot, affects millions and the cruelest thing is that it happens precisely in an era that exalts ‘live your truth’. When you can't find that truth, guilt, shame and tiredness follow.

It's Sartre's emptiness: the nothingness that inhabits us and invites us to create meaning. But instead of embracing it, we try to hide it with distractions, consumption and smiling selfies.

Jean-Paul Sartre, the existentialist who faced the absurd head-on, proposed that human beings are condemned to freedom. There is no such thing as a pre-defined essence. We are responsible for making ourselves at every choice and that is liberating - and terrifying.

Nothingness isn't a flaw - it's a space for creation. But this freedom is scary because it implies risk, failure and the dreaded responsibility. And in the society of success, failure is a sin. That's why many prefer to follow ready-made scripts, repeat Instagram mantras and settle for a life of generic ‘truth’.

Real authenticity requires courage. The courage to face the abyss, to live the questions and to reject easy answers disguised as absolute truths.

A bald, tattooed woman dressed in black vinyl clothing and black sunglasses looks at herself in a mirror/portal where the symbols of the matrix are present.

Escaping the Authenticity Matrix

Authenticity can't be bought, it can't be downloaded in an app, it can't be learnt in a weekend workshop or a 5-hour webinar.

Below are some practices. See what makes sense for you, but don't use them as a life raft. Look at them like the oars of a boat - on their own they won't do anything, you'll have to pick them up and row if you want to get out of the place.

The art of radical self-questioning

Inspired by Michel Foucault, I propose an exercise: every time you say ‘that's who I really am’ (or any rubbish with the same connotation), ask yourself:

  • Who profits from this identity?
  • What internal voices am I silencing to maintain this mask?
  • What am I hiding even from myself?

Suggestion: Replace ‘that's who I am’ with ‘why do I need others to believe that's who I am?’.

The revolution of small disobediences

Psychologist Carol Dweck, with her ‘growth mindset’ theory, reminds us: identities are not carved in stone. Start with small acts:

  • Don't post. Simply live in the moment without turning it into content.
  • Question algorithms. When Spotify suggests a playlist ‘like you’, listen to something completely opposite.
  • Embrace boredom. As Nietzsche said, ‘...it is in stillness that gods are born...’

Silence and presence

The search for authenticity is uncomfortable. That's why learning the value of silence is essential. This stillness is for listening to what is true - not what echoes loudest, but what pulses deep down.

Presence - and patience - to observe without judgement, without rushing and without wanting to perform.

Techniques such as meditation (without marketing), therapeutic writing, existential analysis, practical philosophy and even traditional therapy - be careful when choosing a professional, because unfortunately the market is full of those who can't even resolve themselves, let alone provide support to patients (remember the maxim: Nobody gives what they don't have). These forms and tools can be powerful, they don't provide easy answers or absolute truths - but they do help to dig where few have the courage to touch.

Think more and react less

The philosopher Pierre Hadot defended philosophy as a way of life, not just theory. To think philosophically is to develop a critical eye on oneself and the world. It's to stop reacting like a machine and start acting with awareness.

This is where philosophy and authenticity intersect. Both require pause, depth and commitment, not to absolute truths - because they don't exist - but to an honest search. An act of resistance in times of superficiality.

To be authentic is, first and foremost, to be whole. Even if that means being imperfect, incoherent and constantly changing.

Summary for Busy Minds

In this article, we follow the trajectory of authenticity: from ancient philosophy to social media performance, from fast-food spirituality to political theatre. We discuss how authenticity has been appropriated, sold, simulated and turned into a product - and how, even so, it remains a deep human desire.

Being authentic doesn't lie in appearances, rehearsed speeches or digital filters, but in discomfort, in doubt, in the freedom to build oneself every day - even when it means displeasing others.

Hypocrisy is the New Normal

Modern society has turned authenticity into a commodity and we, as accomplices, have helped to package and consume this sweetened version of being. But perhaps there is still hope. We can still rebel - not with grandiose speeches and paceatas that lead nowhere, but with sincere attitudes. With silence. With conscious choices. By refusing to be used.

Because let's face it, we are a little - or a lot - hypocritical. We share posts about ‘material detachment’ while making wish lists on Amazon (I have one for perfumes).

Illusion is the opium of modern times. It anaesthetises us from the obligation to think for ourselves, while we continue to reproduce pasteurised behaviour with the pride of those who believe they have freed themselves, but in the meantime, we have only gained a conceptual cage overlooking the feed.

But I can't help noticing a certain beauty in this, because recognising our contradiction is the first step towards a less naive and artificial authenticity.

Know that the problem isn't the lies, it's believing them.

And if you've read this far - which many won't - it means you're going out on a limb and starting to think for yourself. Keep searching. Keep questioning. And if you want to delve even deeper, read the other articles on the page and visit UN4RTificial Blog, where there's more provocation, more philosophy, more deconstruction...

Comment, criticise, send suggestions - your voice is the antidote to the automation of consciences. Follow us on social media, share - because spreading reflection instead of dancing videos is an act of courage (or do nothing, the choice is yours).

Final note from the author:

Self-questioning is uncomfortable, it hurts, but it's the only way not to be programmed as market avatars. In a world where even our innermost desires are predicted by AI, the pain and discomfort of questioning become signs of life.

Remember: every time you have the ‘Gabriela Syndrome’ (I was born like this, I grew up like this and I'll always be like this... a well-known Brazilian song), you're repeating a script written by centuries of social pressure.

So be suspicious, doubt - especially your limiting beliefs. Be uncomfortable. Be critical. Be less predictable. Deconstruct yourself without fear. Either you do this - or you will be moulded by those who profit from your obedience.

 

 ‘Illusion crumbles when we question reality.’ - UN4RT

 

Sources, inspirations and references. Study! Only knowledge liberates and is potential power. The links direct you to UN4RTificial Blog, where you can find a mini-biography of the author and some of his works.

 

back→