The Humanisation Phase Has Begun There’s a pattern you learn to spot once you’ve studied propaganda long enough. It always begins with outrage, and it always ends with empathy. When trust collapses, they humanise the leader. We’ve seen a sudden wave of posts by MPs trying to “soften” Keir Starmer’s image, talking about his grief, his music taste, his family values. It looks innocent. It isn’t. This is one of the oldest tools in psychological operations. In the 1930s, Stalin was rebranded as “Uncle Joe” after the purges. Smiling with children, reading letters from farmers, a man of the people. Goebbels did the same with Hitler: the dog-loving artist, the simple vegetarian. Mao posed as the kindly teacher sharing tea with peasants. Why? Because human warmth neutralises resistance. Once emotion replaces reason, critique feels cruel. This is leader empathy engineering, propaganda through sentiment. And now, in the age of managed decline, it’s back, digital, data-driven, and algorithmically boosted. You can already feel it working. The same outlets that stirred outrage yesterday now push intimacy today. Rage and pity, oscillating like a pendulum, keeping the public emotionally entrained. We are watching the emotional phase of propaganda, where control hides behind compassion. Stay grounded, keep your empathy human but your discernment sharp. Remember Orwell: once Big Brother had a face, people stopped fearing him, they began to love him.

Rage-Bait Britain: Manufacturing Outrage in the Age of Managed Decline There is a new kind of theatre unfolding across Britain’s digital stage, and it thrives on outrage. Every day, government accounts and party spokespeople push messages that feel less like public communication and more like psychological triggers. They are too consistent, too emotional, too well-timed to be accidents. The pattern is clear: provoke, divide, distract, repeat. At first, it looks like incompetence, but the repetition suggests strategy. Rage has become a form of governance. The public is no longer being persuaded, it is being managed. Each outburst, each viral argument, drains energy that might otherwise be used to question deeper issues such as economic decay, digital control systems, or the quiet erosion of freedom. The fury keeps the population reactive, not reflective, which is exactly where power prefers it. ⸻ The Historical Blueprint: From the Coliseum to the Screen This is not a modern invention. Every empire that begins to fracture turns to spectacle. Rome gave its citizens bread and circuses. The Soviet Union turned political trials into public theatre. Orwell understood the pattern perfectly in 1984 with his “Two Minutes Hate”, the daily ritual where citizens screamed at a screen, believing they were venting against enemies of the state when in truth they were reinforcing obedience to it. The method is simple. Rage is energy, and energy can be directed. When people are angry, they are engaged, and when they are engaged, they can be steered. The modern feed is the new coliseum, a rolling arena of outrage where the crowd never leaves. Every time the public is pushed into emotional extremes, the government regains control of the centre. A population divided into tribes cannot unite against its rulers. A society addicted to moral performance loses its capacity for rational dissent. ⸻ The Algorithmic Ministry of Truth We no longer need a Ministry of Truth; we built one ourselves. It exists within the algorithms of social media, where emotion determines visibility. Outrage travels faster than reason, so truth becomes secondary to virality. Political communication teams have adapted accordingly. Their goal is no longer to inform, but to dominate attention. Engagement metrics have replaced public service. Every post, every “mistake,” every apparent gaffe is a form of emotional data collection. The result is a feedback loop. Citizens rage, the algorithm amplifies, and the state studies the reaction. Over time, these patterns form behavioural maps that reveal what triggers which groups. Emotional telemetry has become a form of soft surveillance. The more reactive the population, the easier it becomes to govern through noise. ⸻ The Hadush Kebatu Case: A Manufactured Narrative The recent case of Hadush Gerberslasie Kebatu, an asylum seeker and convicted sex offender who was mistakenly released from prison, is a perfect example of how outrage can be harnessed for political utility. The facts are disturbing. The optics are catastrophic. The emotional reaction was immediate. For two days, the story dominated feeds and headlines, igniting every fault line in British society: immigration, crime, race, safety, and government failure. Then came the pivot. Almost instantly, the discussion moved from outrage to “solution.” The same politicians who fuelled the panic began to speak of the need for better data-sharing, better tracking, and digital identity verification. What began as bureaucratic incompetence became an argument for deeper surveillance. Whether intentional or not, the narrative was useful. Fear opened the door for control. Outrage created the conditions for compliance. ⸻ The Five Whys of Manufactured Outrage To understand how this pattern operates, we can use the analytical tool known as the Five Whys, asking sequential questions until the root cause appears. Why was this story amplified so widely? Because outrage drives engagement, and engagement strengthens narrative control. Why does the government benefit from public anger? Because emotional populations are easier to manage than rational ones. Why do crises always end with calls for digital oversight? Because centralised systems of identity and surveillance promise order in times of chaos. Why is chaos being normalised? Because exhausted citizens stop resisting when they can no longer tell what matters. Why is this effective? Because outrage feels empowering even as it tightens the cage. ⸻ The Attention Trap: Connection, Control, and the Machinery of Influence Social media was once celebrated as the great equaliser, a network that allowed people to speak freely and connect globally without institutional permission. It still carries that potential, but the architecture has been weaponised. The documentary The Social Dilemma exposed how these platforms record every action and inaction, turning behaviour into data. Algorithms track what makes us pause, what makes us click, what keeps us angry. They do not measure truth; they measure arousal. The longer you linger, the more the system learns what keeps you emotionally charged. Even silence feeds it. Stopping to read, hovering over a post, or finishing a video in disbelief all signal interest. The machine learns your triggers and builds your digital world around them. Politicians and government “nudge units” understand this dynamic perfectly. They no longer need to censor or persuade when they can provoke. Outrage sustains engagement, and engagement becomes power. Social media is still a powerful force for good, capable of uniting people, spreading truth, and bypassing gatekeepers. But in its centralised form, it has become a behavioural laboratory. The same algorithms that can connect the world can also divide it, shaping attention toward conflict and distraction. There is, however, a way out. Decentralised networks such as Nostr return power to the individual. They have no algorithms, no corporate moderation teams, no hidden filters. The feed is chronological, not manipulative. You choose who to follow, you own your identity, and your data remains yours. On Nostr, there is no incentive to provoke outrage because there is no engagement economy to exploit. It is communication by choice, not by manipulation. In that simplicity lies freedom. It is social media as it was originally imagined, permissionless, borderless, and ungoverned by behavioural design. To stay informed without being consumed, use these systems consciously. Don’t scroll aimlessly; search deliberately. Don’t react; observe. Read slowly, off-platform when possible. Each act of attention becomes an act of sovereignty. When engagement is the currency of control, restraint becomes the highest form of rebellion. ⸻ Closing Reflection: Reclaiming the Inner Republic Every empire learns that its most effective weapon is not force, but story. Ours has perfected it. The battle for truth no longer happens in the streets, but inside the human mind, where algorithms, politicians, and media compete for emotional real estate. The first step toward freedom is awareness. The second is composure. When you understand that your attention is the commodity, you can begin to reclaim it. Pause before reacting. Reflect before sharing. Refuse to be farmed for outrage. Decentralisation is not a trend; it is a moral imperative. Systems like Bitcoin and Nostr represent the re-emergence of autonomy in a world that trades in dependency. They restore the principle that truth and value should belong to the individual, not the institution. The quiet revolution begins with consciousness. Every moment of clarity weakens the machinery of control. The Inner Republic, the part of you that still thinks freely, quietly, and without permission, is where the future will be rebuilt.