
By now, there are few who do not know that the rules of the world’s game have changed. It has become common knowledge that labor alone cannot change one’s destiny, and that conventional sincerity is merely fuel used to keep the system running. Yet, why is it that people do not rise in revolt or deviate from their orbits, but instead pack their work bags tomorrow morning just as they always have? Within that strange silence lies a psychological mechanism far more sophisticated than simple resignation.
A Defense Mechanism: Recognizing but Refusing to Internalize
The first group chooses to close their eyes. The brain activates a “psychological immune system” when faced with unbearable, sustained stress. While I may intellectually recognize the success stories of others and the contradictions of the system, I resolve not to connect them to my own reality. I hypnotize myself, saying, “That’s just a story for those with extraordinary luck,” or “The world may have changed, but in the end, the sincere person will have the last laugh.” This is not necessarily cowardice; it is the final survival strategy chosen by the brain to prevent the immediate collapse of daily life.
The Cold Calculation of Cost and Benefit: Deciding to Stay
The second group chooses to remain after a most realistic calculation. I judge that the cost of deviating from the orbit to change my destiny—the severance of current income, social ostracization upon failure, and criticism from those around me—is overwhelmingly higher than the expected return from change. For such individuals, conventional sincerity is not the “best” choice, but a “choice to avoid the worst.” I do not stay because I have hope; I have decided to remain in “predictable misery” because the hell I would face upon leaving is far more vividly imagined.
Learned Helplessness and the Birth of the “Voluntary Slave”
The saddest stage is learned helplessness. After facing a wall through several attempts or reflections, an individual reaches the conclusion: “It’s no use trying.” From this point on, the individual takes on a malformed shape—cursing the system while obeying it most faithfully. Because I know that the path I walk cannot change my fate, I become even more obsessed with trivialities on that path: promotions, reputation, and small raises. To forget the terror of being unable to change my grand destiny, I fall into an anesthetized state, fixated on minor rewards.
Dreaming with Eyes Wide Open
Ultimately, the reason the majority does not change is not that they are ignorant of the truth, but that they lack the strength to bear it. Deviating from the orbit means enduring the terror of the ground vanishing beneath one’s feet. Rather than facing that terror, the masses choose to stay on a slowly sinking ship, looking away from the sun outside the window and comforting one another by saying, “It’s still okay for now.” They have not closed their eyes; they have decided to dream, with eyes wide open, that “this is the right path.”
Leave a Reply