Fade to Grey

Hot on the heels of "The Century of the Self"—of which they are its ultimate product—millennials have sought to redefine Western society as a kinder, gentler upgrade. To their credit, they have crafted a narrative that aspires to transcend the hard-nosed world I grew up in, substituting the communal support systems that once kept society turning with a benevolent ‘Good Samaritan’ ethos, rooted—perhaps unconsciously—in a Judeo-Christian moral framework. This is particularly striking given their generation’s public rejection of faith. 

Education has been reimagined in an inclusive, outward-looking embrace of both those we know and those we don’t—a final renunciation of the self-serving, archaic narratives best left to the distant past. Few would disagree with such humanist generosity of spirit: respect for all, acknowledgement of past faults, and aspirational intent for the future. Yet how has a narrative so well-intentioned given rise to the self-flagellating tribalism now fracturing Western society? How can an educated critique of the past produce so bleak an offering for the future? 

This, I think, is the fundamental problem we face: the complex issues we have identified in the world cannot be solved with despair—they demand hope. And if we cannot instil that hope in the next generation, we rob them of agency; and in doing so, we condemn ourselves to extinction.

I’ve wondered whether this refusal to engage with nuance arises from fear. Deprived of the social belonging once offered by community—a deficit only deepened by the pandemic—we all hunger for meaning and allegiance. The isolation imposed by lockdowns intensified this loss, but also introduced a more insidious moral dimension. By conflating identity with opinion, it ushered in a new era of identity politics—one that operates as a moral as well as a political creed. 

This moral polarisation of opinion also arises from detachment—ironically, the very form of subjective judgment we have long sought to eliminate. As human interaction has migrated online, we have recreated systems of judgment, only now with different allegiances. Deprived of personal knowledge or nuanced understanding, many form loyalties on the basis of superficial messaging and shared condemnation. I'm reminded of the Facebook posts from friends supporting Palestine, Trans rights and the NHS, based more on weaponised empathy than accurate messaging. Because what we fear most is being seen as unworthy, uncaring and unkind.

How is this a problem? Surely these are desirable human qualities? Tragically, this badge-engineered kindness helps no one. In a busy world overconsumption of slick messaging has replaced diligent, detailed scrutiny. Without better appreciation of the grey areas in any discussion we place ourselves in grave danger of manipulation. Inaccurate messaging, the distortion of reality and appropriation of concern is as useful to authoritarianism now as in the past. 

A clear example can be seen in the ‘Free Palestine’ movement, presented as a moral crusade. Powered by Qatari funding and deploying Soviet-era tactics, it harnesses a sophisticated social media presence to mobilise activists seeking moral belonging in an increasingly chaotic world. Yet rather than providing practical support for the marginalised, such campaigns primarily exist to satiate the hunger for moral virtue among their followers. The ease with which Western activists repeat slogans without consulting primary sources—or even glancing at Hamas’s own charter—illustrates how rhetoric has replaced thought. Some historians have long argued that the PLO itself was conceived as a KGB destabilisation project, designed to weaken pro-Western Arab states such as Jordan and Lebanon, transforming anti-Zionism into an exportable revolutionary cause. The same playbook—destabilise, divide, demoralise—is now being executed across the West, this time with hashtags instead of Kalashnikovs. The consequences are plain to see: mounting division, confusion, and unrest. None of this is accidental.

Whether the fault line is Gaza versus Israel or illegal migration versus 'racism', we must remember the world is never that simple. Corporations and authoritarian regimes spend vast sums shaping public policy, and our willingness to capitulate to them is both polarising politics and deepening division. There exists an entire spectrum of reality and opinion on these issues; to assume people are either right or wrong, good or bad, according to their views, is both ignorant and dangerous. It is, in fact, entirely possible to support Israel while condemning specific operations in Gaza—and to recognise that the situation is far more complex than a simplistic narrative of genocide. 

Likewise, one may believe in the necessity of migration, welcome refugees, and still acknowledge that illegal migration poses social, economic, and national security challenges. If we are genuinely fearful of dictators and the so-called ‘right wing,’ we must wake up to the fact that figures like Putin and extremist movements play a long game. Their goal is to divide us, to erode national identity, and to weaken the cultural cohesion on which democracy depends. Patriotism should not be mistaken for nationalism. 

The current array of performative allegiances is, moreover, intellectually incoherent. Many are weary of this moral theatre, and silencing them by branding dissent as racism/fascism/cultural elitism only fuels genuine extremism. Every person who amplifies this polarised rhetoric contributes, however unwittingly, to the rise of Trump, Farage, Meloni, and their ilk. These are mainstream issues, and they must be discussed—openly, honestly, and without fear.

We have allowed ourselves to inhabit a black-and-white reality, persuaded by the illusion that our only power lies in moral allegiance. Our instinct for kindness and empathy—noble qualities born from our own historical reckoning—is now being weaponised against us. Any reader of Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four would recognise the warning: this was both predictable and predicted. It is time to talk again—to reconnect with the world as it is, rather than skim its surface in search of simplified choices. Only by reclaiming nuance, curiosity, and genuine dialogue can we hope to rebuild the trust and humanity we have so carelessly abandoned.

Fade to grey.