#Machiavellianism

[oxenfreeao3]

I need Caitlyn “if I cannot become ungovernable I will become the government” Kiramman to have a full-on Machiavellian anti-hero arc so that The General Public finally takes her seriously.

Analysis:

I've mentioned it before, but Caitlyn's character embodies nearly all the traits of a Machiavellian with high cognitive empathy.

Firstly and most obviously, she manipulates systems and people to accomplish her goals. Vi would still be in Stillwater and much of Act II and III would not have happened if Caitlyn weren't willing to cleverly and unscrupulously lie and forge her way to success.

We can argue she's not a very good liar. I argue that doesn't really matter. One, her lies work. Two, she is clearly ready and willing to deceive so long as she thinks it's for a good reason. The inclination is what matters. I think the important question to ask is, "What is this character willing do to?"

Secondly, she's huge on agency. It's one of the main features of her character. She demonstrates (from the five-factor model): achievement-striving, assertiveness, self-confidence, emotional invulnerability, activity, and competence.

Regarding emotional invulnerability. I want to touch on this because I think it's missed. Caitlyn is an extremely guarded character. She reveals almost no personal information about herself, even to Vi. During high-stress situations, she flinches from her own vulnerability, tries to play it off, or compartmentalizes heavily.

Vi is the bleeding heart, the open book, the one who can't guard worth a damn (it's not even subtext, other characters say this to her face and I believe it has a dual meaning).

Meanwhile, Caitlyn waits until Vi is vulnerable with her and shows her respect before even giving Vi her name. (I have more to say about the "Cupcake" scene but that's for another time).

Other aspects of a Machiavellian character include:

Cynicism, selfishness, callousness, arrogance, deliberation and orderliness.

I argue that Caitlyn's character hints at the first one, gets away with the next three because she's "sweet," and blatantly embodies the last two.

Caitlyn in S1 is a sharp edge sheathed in kindness. We like what she's currently doing and think she's a Good Person because her trajectory aligns with our own sense of right and wrong. But Caitlyn is doing what she wants. What she thinks is right. Again, it's not subtext.

Marcus: "She does whatever she wants, I can't control her!"

And in S2, I think the same behaviors we currently love in her could easily be used to spin her down a corruption arc that leaves us a bit aghast -- but shouldn't leave us surprised.

I argue such an arc would be squarely in character.

Paraphrasing from the AMA:

"Everyone is a little bit opposite of who they are in Season One."

What will that mean for Caitlyn?

I don't know, but the recipe for a very interesting time is written all over her character.

[irradiatedwarlock]

The Kiss of Judas by Jakob Smits, 1906

That manipulative gremlin!

[literatureloverx]

“I feel no responsibility to those comrades who’ve lost their lives in my service. They chose to fight those battles, just as you chose, just as I… just as I have chosen this. But there is one thing I can do for them—for the dead. It is to win, and keep winning until I attain my dream. A dream they clung to and risked their lives for. I can’t just step over the bones of the dead in order to realise it. My dream is already smeared with blood. I don’t regret; I don’t feel guilty. But I’d rather sacrifice myself than watch any more innocent children die in the name of my dream.”

— Griffith from Berserk

In my view, Griffith embodies a disturbing blend of unhealthy obsession, Machiavellian cunning, moral detachment, a fractured sense of responsibility, delusion, and false heroism, each aspect interwoven with a chilling elegance.

His unhealthy obsession is clear in his relentless pursuit of his dream, regardless of the cost. When he states that he doesn’t feel responsible for the deaths of his comrades because they “chose” to fight, it highlights his singular focus on his goal, disregarding the human cost. His priority is his vision, and he reduces the sacrifices of others to mere choices rather than recognizing them as genuine acts of selflessness. Yet, despite this rationalisation, he still feels a sense of guilt. His obsession blinds him to the true cost of his ambition, allowing him to justify the loss of life while still struggling with internal conflict.

Machiavellianism is reflected in Griffith’s cold pragmatism. The statement “they chose to fight those battles” underscores his manipulative mindset—he views those around him as pawns who make decisions for themselves. His detached attitude toward their sacrifices reveals his willingness to justify their deaths as a means to an end, characteristic of Machiavellian behavior. Griffith sees people as tools in his grand plan, willing to use them without any emotional attachment or care for their fate. Yet, beneath this detached exterior, he is trapped in his own internal contradictions, experiencing deep guilt over the consequences of his actions.

By claiming, “I feel no responsibility…” one might assume that Griffith is emotionally disengaged from the suffering of others. However, this doesn’t reflect a lack of guilt or regret over the sacrifices of his comrades. Instead, he rationalises their deaths as choices they made, distancing himself from any moral burden. Despite his attempts to distance himself emotionally and justify his actions, he still grapples with guilt. He frequently reflects on the people who have died because of his dream, blaming both himself and his ambition inwardly, while outwardly justifying his actions. This creates an internal dilemma that tears at his psyche.

The following lines further reveal his breakdown through a false sense of responsibility: “But there is one thing I can do for them—for the dead. It is to win, and keep winning until I attain my dream. A dream they clung to and risked their lives for.” Here, Griffith imposes a sense of responsibility that is partially delusional. He convinces himself that the best way to honor the dead is by achieving the dream they “clung to.” However, this sense of responsibility isn’t genuine; it’s a mental construct meant to rationalise his obsession. The weight of this perceived duty serves as psychological justification for continuing to sacrifice others. It’s not true selfless responsibility, but a coping mechanism that allows him to maintain his focus on his goal while masking the emotional turmoil that accompanies it.

Griffith is deluded into believing that the end justifies the means. He says, “I can’t just step over the bones of the dead in order to realise it,” suggesting that he retains some moral boundary. However, his insistence that he must fulfill the dream “for the dead” is itself a delusion, because it enables him to overlook the horrific consequences of his actions while still rationalising them as necessary for the greater good. He convinces himself that his dream will somehow redeem the sacrifices made in its name, even as he continues down a path paved with violence and betrayal.

Finally, Griffith’s false heroism is evident in his belief that his pursuit of his dream is not only justified but noble. The line, “My dream is already smeared with blood,” reflects his internal conflict but also his refusal to turn back. By stating that he would rather sacrifice himself than watch innocent children die for his dream, he presents himself as someone burdened with a higher moral calling—sacrificing others for the “greater good.”

This is the essence of false heroism: Griffith sees himself as a hero because he believes he is making these sacrifices for a noble cause, when, in reality, his actions are self-serving and driven by ego.

The line, “But I’d rather sacrifice myself than watch any more innocent children die in the name of my dream,” is crucial in understanding Griffith’s self-perception as a tragic hero.

On the surface, it suggests a moment of self-awareness and even self-sacrifice, as he claims that he would put his own life on the line to prevent further innocent deaths. However, this statement also reflects Griffith’s deeply flawed understanding of his own moral standing. It implies that, despite the bloodshed he has already caused, he still believes his ultimate goal is noble enough to warrant such sacrifices.

His willingness to “sacrifice himself” is framed as a form of atonement, but it is also a manipulation of his guilt. The fact that he would rather die than let more innocents suffer reinforces his delusion that he is, in some way, the tragic hero of his own story—sacrificing others for the greater good, while seeing himself as burdened with a higher moral calling.

In reality, Griffith is not truly acknowledging the enormity of the harm he has caused, as he still justifies his violent and self-serving actions as being in service of a dream that transcends any personal guilt or regret. His attempt to position himself as a martyr only further illustrates the extent to which he is trapped in a cycle of delusion, convinced that his sacrifice will redeem him and make his dream legitimate, even at the cost of others’ lives.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Yascha Mounk

Published: Dec 21, 2024

After Donald Trump won reelection, scores of Americans once again failed to make good on their loudly shared and oft-repeated plan of moving to Canada; but a good number of them did partake in a different, rather less cumbersome, exodus. Complaining that Twitter had been unrecognizably transformed under the ownership of Elon Musk—whom they also blame for supporting Trump—hundreds of thousands of progressives decamped to Bluesky.

Widely touted as a “kinder, gentler” alternative to X, Bluesky aims to emulate the up-to-date news and specialized information-sharing in which Twitter has traditionally excelled. It also promises to cut all the toxicity. In the past weeks, the platform announced plans to quadruple the number of moderators it employs. "We’re trying to go above what the legal requirements are, because we decided that we wanted to be a safe and welcoming space,” Aaron Rodericks, the head of the Trust and Safety Team at Bluesky Social, vowed.

The platform has some features that really do put the user in charge in appealing ways. In traditional social media networks, the executives of profit-driven companies control the algorithm that governs the content which is presented to individual users. Especially on micro-blogging platforms like Twitter, this feature—since well before Musk turned it into X—meant privileging controversial posts that elicit angry debate over milder, more consensual ones. On Bluesky, each user can choose between a great variety of open-source algorithms, which theoretically makes it possible to curate a less rage-inducing experience.

When Bluesky launched, I hoped that it would succeed. But the platform has quickly shown that it is hard for any social network to deliver on its promise of being the place for a kinder or gentler discourse. At its best, Bluesky has become a giant progressive echo chamber, with Blue MAGA accounts freely sharing “misinformation” such as the notion that the vote count in the 2024 election was fraudulent because millions of Democratic votes inexplicably went missing. At its worst, it openly revels in violence—so long as that violence can make a claim, however tenuous, to defend or avenge righteous victims.

In accordance with the platform’s policy of moderating content much more aggressively than X has done under Musk, Bluesky’s moderators have been quick to act when users flout the site’s ideological consensus. In the last weeks, both small accounts with few followers and well-known writers with an established audience have seemingly been banned for such trivial “infractions” as suggesting that the Democratic Party leaving X would be a counterproductive form of “purity politics.” And yet, it was on Bluesky that prominent journalists—including, but not limited to, the infamous Taylor Lorenz—openly rejoiced in the murder of Brian Thompson, the CEO of UnitedHealthcare. As long as progressives perceive the victim of a crime to be morally evil, the moderators on Bluesky appear to believe that threatening violence against them is justifiable.

More recently, Bluesky users with major followings reveled in the prospect of violence against Jesse Singal, a center-left journalist who has ended up in progressive crosshairs because of his reporting about detransitioners and involvement in other heated debates regarding trans issues. Some consisted in crude death threats: “I think Jesse Singal should be beat to death in the streets,” one wrote. But a surprising number explicitly justified calls for violence as being necessary to defend themselves against the ways in which he supposedly put them at risk. “Jesse Singal and assorted grifters want us dead so i similarly want him dead,” another user wrote.1

Though they blatantly violated Bluesky’s restrictive community guidelines, the platform hardly took action against such accounts. It even failed to ban users who shared what they believed to be Singal’s private address or made especially graphic threats against him. Evidently, the people making decisions for the kinder, gentler platform don’t mind actual death threats—as long as they are directed against those who, in their judgment, have it coming to them.

What can possibly explain the descent of a platform populated by progressives who claim to abhor all forms of violence into an echo chamber that revels in violence against anyone who defies its taboos or threatens its ideological conformity?

Some of the dynamic likely has to do with the nature of social media in general, and of microblogging platforms like Twitter and Bluesky in particular. There is also an ideological element—a justification of violence has been interwoven with far-left ideology for well over a century. But as I puzzled over the strange transformation of Bluesky, I was also reminded of a series of interesting social science papers published over the course of the last years. They suggest that the tendency to justify violence by the need to help virtuous victims serves a strategic purpose that is less than benign—and may even have worrying psychological roots.

-

Traditionally, most people have wanted to avoid being seen as a victim.

In “honor” societies, like the aristocratic milieus of early modern Europe, the impression that you could not defend yourself spelled dishonor and invited further attacks. When someone failed to pay you the respect to which you believed to be entitled, you did not claim to be a victim; you challenged them to a duel.

The same aversion to casting yourself as a victim persisted even after feudalism gave way to capitalism, and aristocratic “honor cultures” transformed into bourgeois “dignity cultures.” For much of the 19th and 20th centuries, people who were maltreated in some way would insist that such forms of disrespect did not have the power to undermine the dignity we all have as humans. If the duel is the canonical encapsulation of honor culture, the canonical encapsulations of dignity culture are an adult’s determination to keep a “stiff upper lip” in the face of adversity or a child’s resolve that “sticks and stones may break my bones but words shall never hurt me.”

But as Bradley Campbell and Jason Manning have argued in The Rise of Victimhood Culture, we are now entering a new era. Dignity culture is waning rapidly. In its place, we are witnessing the rise of victimhood culture. This new dispensation “differs from both honor and dignity cultures in highlighting rather than downplaying the complainants’ victimhood.” Under these circumstances, people who portray themselves as victims enjoy an elevated moral status. And that, Campbell and Manning write in one of their papers, “only increases the incentive to publicize grievances, and it means aggrieved parties are especially likely to highlight their identity as victims, emphasizing their own suffering and innocence.” (Anyone who has spent time on social media—whether it be Bluesky or Instagram or TikTok—in the decade since Campbell and Manning first wrote that line can’t help but feel that it has proven to be prophetic.)

Ekin Ok and three co-authors from the University of British Columbia pick up on this thread in a 2021 paper published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Because of the spread of egalitarian values and the paramount importance they give to alleviating suffering, Ok et al argue, contemporary Western democracies have become highly responsive to people who are perceived as victims. Under these circumstances, making a claim to victim status may allow a great variety of people “to pursue an environmental resource extraction strategy that helps them survive, flourish, and achieve their goals.” As a result, “claiming one is a victim has become increasingly advantageous and even fashionable.”

But being a victim may not be enough. Even in contemporary Western societies, the perceived moral status of the victim is likely to influence how much assistance they will receive. As Ok et al demonstrate, for example, respondents are more likely to offer financial assistance to a man who gets shot while volunteering at a charity softball game than they are to a man who gets shot while patronizing a strip club. For “victim-signalling” to have the desired effect, it needs to be accompanied by “virtue-signalling.”

Some people, of course, really are “virtuous victims.” They have suffered genuine injustice. But since managing to establish your status as a virtuous victim is potentially lucrative, it also stands to reason that others will falsely claim to fall into this category. As Ok et al write, some people “intentionally and repeatedly convey their victim status as a manipulative strategy with the explicit aim of altering the behavior of receivers to the signaler’s advantage.”

The authors of the study even have a hypothesis about who is most likely to do that. People with Dark Triad traits such as narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy, they argue, are especially likely to engage in “self-promotion, emotional callousness, duplicity and [a] tendency to take advantage of others.” Narcissists seek the limelight. Machiavellians are obsessed with gaining and exercising power over others. Psychopaths don’t care about social norms and disregard others’ emotions. People with all three traits are thus likely to be hugely overrepresented in the “subset of the population both adept at and comfortable with using deception and manipulation to attain personal goals.”

In a succession of clever tests, Ok et al provide plausible evidence that their theory is borne out by reality. Their first striking empirical finding is that people with dark personality traits are also more likely to falsely portray themselves as victims. In one of their studies, they ask you to imagine that you are an intern who is asked to work closely on a project with a peer who is competing for the same full-time job. The other intern is friendly to your face but you get a bad vibe from him. He doesn’t take your suggestions seriously, and you suspect that he may be talking badly about you behind your back. How do you respond?

That seems to depend on who you are. Asked to report on the behavior of the other intern, most participants in the experiment shared some negative opinions but refrained from making false or exaggerated statements. Respondents who had scored high on the dark personality triad, by contrast, were more likely to falsely report that the other intern had engaged in discriminatory behaviour such as making “demeaning or derogatory comments.”

The paper’s second striking empirical finding shows that the tendency of people with dark personality traits to falsely claim being a virtuous victim may also give them cover for engaging in bad behavior. In another experiment, they asked respondents to play a simple coin flip game, which was manipulated in such a way that its participants could easily use deception to increase their monetary payoff. It turns out that people who have portrayed themselves as virtuous victims were far more likely than their peers to lie and to cheat.

This helps to explain some of the features about Bluesky and other social media platforms that might otherwise feel puzzling. The kinds of claims to virtuous victimhood that are so common on that forum don’t just create cover for manipulative people to serve their own ends; they also seem to create license for disregarding moral norms—whether these consist in a prohibition of lying about others to ostracize them or (apparently) even calling for them to be killed.

-

When the study by Ok et al first came out, it made some minor waves. My fellow Substacker and recent podcast guest Rob Henderson argued that people with dark personality traits do what they can in any particular social environment to obtain benefits like prestige or material wealth. In current circumstances, he concluded, “those with dark triad traits might find that the best way to extract rewards is by making a public spectacle of their victimhood and virtue.” The psychologist and podcaster Scott Barry Kaufman put a similar conclusion even more starkly: “Some people,” he wrote, just “aren't good-faith actors in this ‘victimhood space.’”

At the time, I found the paper by Ok et al to be intriguing. And I knew that both Henderson and Kaufman usually have a good nose for bullshit. And yet, I have refrained from writing about its findings until now. After all, social psychology suffers from a serious replication crisis. Time and again, findings that are a little too neat or pleasing—from the idea that a child’s ability to resist the temptation of eating a marshmallow predicts later life outcomes to the promise that striking a “power pose” can set you up for success in a job interview—turned out to be dubious or outright false. And isn’t there something a little too neat about the idea that all of those people attesting to their superior virtue are secretly just narcissists and psychopaths trying to manipulate you?

It also seemed to me that a piece of the puzzle was still missing. Some of the people who target others on social media really do portray themselves as virtuous victims. They claim that they are part of the group which the victim of their attacks has supposedly targeted. And many of them clearly have self-serving goals, ranging from increasing their social clout to asking followers to donate cold, hard cash. But others who gang up on, or even threaten violence against, anybody who breaks perceived community norms don’t claim to be victims themselves; rather, they invoke the existence of supposed victims as an excuse to engage in cruel behavior. For all of its strength, there is something about the phenomenon I’ve been trying to make sense of that Ok’s paper can’t quite explain.

But then my research assistant sent me a new paper about the same subject. In a major effort, Timothy C. Bates and five of his colleagues at the University of Edinburgh set out to test whether the finding by Ok et al would replicate. Based on a larger dataset and employing alternative ways to measure key concepts like virtuous victim signalling, they came to an unambiguous conclusion: virtuous victim signalling really does seem to be driven by what they call “narcissistic Machiavellianism.”

More importantly, the paper by Bates et al also adds the missing piece of the puzzle. The “willingness to assert victimhood,” they hypothesize, may also “be amplified by the motive of sadistic pleasure in the downfall of weakened opponents.” In other words, the people who invoke the need to defend victims in order to justify treating others poorly don’t necessarily have a concrete strategic goal in mind; some of them do so because they are looking for a socially sanctioned outlet for their sadistic instincts. In those cases, the cruelty is the point.

To demonstrate that this is indeed the case, Bates et al use a standard battery of questions to measure respondents’ tendencies towards sadism, asking them such questions as whether they would be willing to purposely hurt people if they didn’t like them. They then test whether people with such sadistic tendencies are also more likely to score high on what they call the “victimizer scale,” which asks them to report on such questions as whether they have recently “enjoyed helping cancel someone;” whether they have “joined in on the persecution and condemnation of an individual or group accused of victimizing others;” and whether they have “sought to hurt the reputation of someone accused by others of victimizing.”

Two things are especially notable about this. First, not all sadists claimed that they themselves were virtuous victims. But second, the claim that they were acting on behalf of such victims—whether themselves or others—was the crucial fig leaf they needed to get away with their behavior. This finding, Bates et al argue, supports

the suggestion that sadism may be adapted to exploit strategic opportunities, specifically the legitimization of punishing and inflicting harm on individuals or groups which is created by successful virtuous victim signalling. If individuals high on Machiavellianism and narcissism exploit the resource-release response of nonvictims, sadism appears, as predicted, to exploit the opportunity created by victims in the form of the moral license granted by non-victims, legitimizing attacks on the victimizer by removing moral protection from those accused.

-

Many people really do suffer genuine injustices. It is on the whole a good thing that contemporary societies are much more likely to give people who claim to have suffered undeserved misfortune a respectful hearing than they might have gotten in the past. While trying to keep a “stiff upper lip” may have its uses, we certainly wouldn’t want people to fear advocating for a more just society, or coming forward about ways in which they have been maltreated, because doing so might undermine their dignity or bring shame upon them.

But to be sensible and sustainable, every social dispensation—whether it consists in an explicit set of rules or an implicit set of norms—must protect itself against bad actors. When a platform or political subculture allows anyone to portray themselves as victims without any real evidence, bad actors will recognize an opportunity to swoop in. And then these bad actors will quickly weaponize false claims to victimization as an excuse to harass or physically threaten people who supposedly have it coming to them. In a culture of victimhood that has no inbuilt defenses against bad actors, things will—as the recent blowup on Bluesky reminds us—always eventually get out of hand.

Every community, however noble its stated intentions and however progressive its purported values, needs a mechanism for defending itself against the small minority of people who are prone to exploit and manipulate their social environment. If yours doesn’t have one, it’s inviting the sadists, the narcissists and the psychopaths to run the show.

-

1 Like many of the things that are said or written about Singal, this claim of course lacks any basis in objective reality.

==

When victimhood is currency, expect counterfeiters.

We must fully depreciate "victimhood" as a form of social currency.

[mindfulhavens]

Seduction is not solely about physical beauty, but rather the psychology to create an irresistible allure.

By understanding both yourself and your target, crafting a compelling persona, and skillfully manipulating emotions and perceptions you can create attraction and build influenc

[scolothanatos]

Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince

Lalo and Nacho’s romance is a horror thriller because whenever something horrific happens I am thrilled.

[barbiethin00]

When you read about the “dark triad” in psychology, but it’s really just a mic n match of your exes and love interests💝💝

[unsolicitedadvicecatlady]

I'm going to make a prediction:

Within the next two decades, Machiavellianism is going to be a diagnosable disorder.

That way, people with Chronic Asshat Syndrome will be able to hide behind their latest PDF copy of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual and say, "The Devil made me do it!"

[the-666-system]

what does machiavellian mean?? (/genq)

In the field of personality psychology, Machiavellianism (sometimes abbreviated as MACH) is the name of a personality trait construct characterized by interpersonal manipulation, indifference to morality, lack of empathy, and a calculated focus on self-interest. Psychologists Richard Christie and Florence L. Geis named the construct after Niccolò Machiavelli, as they used truncated and edited statements similar to his writing style to study variations in human behaviors.

Their Mach IV test, a 20-question, Likert-scale personality survey, became the standard self-assessment tool and scale of the Machiavellianism construct. Those who score high on the scale (High Machs) are more likely to have a high level of manipulativeness, deceitfulness, and a cynical, unemotional temperament.

- Wikipedia

Here's the host's test results. Not all of us are machs, but the majority of us are, so we collectively identify as one.

Here's the test if you wanna take it!

[weireir]

Doctor who’s a world expert in dark triad personalities refutes the idea that a psychopath compensates for his/her lack of empathy (such as with “logic” or “cold efficiency”). In short, antiheroes in real life suck at their jobs and do more harm than good. Fiction ain’t accurate.

Team Dark could be a representation of Dark Triad personalities.

Shadow would be Narcissism, the Silent Ego. 🗿 Omega would be Psychopathy, the Reckless Bum. 🧨 Rouge would be Machiavellianism, the Vamp Manipulator. 🦇

They only work as “heroes” cuz they’re sanitized for kids.

[lost-ethics]

Excerpt from Lost: Life & Ethics in The Age of AI, Chapter 41

[shiv-multifandom-mess]

[v-ividus]

41. Confronting the Political Abyss: An Inquiry into Evil Dressed as Political Good

“Every political good carried to the extreme must be productive of evil.” — Mary Wollstonecraft

In the now grim theater of existence, the value of human life stands as an undeniable pillar of civilization. Yet, the intellectual edifice built upon this principle seems shaky, more prone to collapse under the weight of Machiavellian cunning. The discourse around psychopathy reveals alarming insights; it illustrates how detachment from empathy allows individuals to embrace a calculating nature, often justifying heinous acts under the guise of greater goods. How many lives have been sacrificed on the altar of ambition, cloaked in a veil of righteousness?

These truths are often lost in an avalanche of digital noise—a social media landscape that distorts the essence of human connection into mere transactional interactions. Vulnerability, compassion, and authenticity are cast as weaknesses in a battleground where self-promotion reigns supreme. As users scroll through curated realities, the gravity of true human experiences mutates into a shadow, revealing a mass desensitization toward suffering. To engage in such unreflective existence is to dance with a specter of moral apathy, inching closer to the edge of ethical oblivion.

It is crucial, therefore, to confront the implications of our actions and inactions. In this conundrum of moral deficits, a disturbing irony surfaces: the more we pursue our political goods—progress, equality, and even justice—the more we confront the specter of unintended evil, as Wollstonecraft poignantly articulated. This relentless pursuit, devoid of introspection, births a culture that glorifies ambition over morality, setting a dangerous precedent for generations to come.

Moreover, the modern proclivity for 'likes' and digital approval leads to a hollow reverberation of solidarity, rendering genuine empathy into a currency devoid of value. The human cost of our digital interactions mounts, stemming from the neuropsychological fallout of superficial engagements. Machiavellianism thrives in this ecosystem, often celebrated as shrewdness rather than scrutinized for its ethical ramifications. Thus, we stand on a precipice, our collective well-being threatened by a culture that favors spectacle over substance.

The underlying question emerges: What does it mean to truly value a life? If we reduce our interactions to mere engagements of convenience, we forfeit our moral compass, leaving a void where the richness of human experience once resided. This epistemological shift toward cynicism not only destabilizes societal frameworks but also reshapes personal moral cores, challenging us to reckon with the implications of a soulless existence propelled by the very media that promises connection.

Dissecting the Nature of Evil: A Psychological Perspective

Evil, often perceived as a monolithic entity, is a construct that requires nuanced examination within the realms of psychology and sociology. The clinical understanding of psychopathy reveals that it is not merely a shadowy apparition lurking in the dark, but a psychological framework where emotional desensitivity plays a crucial role in human interactions. Psychopaths—defined by their lack of remorse, superficial charm, and insatiable ambition—are symptomatic of a broader societal decay where empathy is superseded by self-interest.

In our digitized world, the proliferation of social media facilitates a breeding ground for such traits. Individuals are bombarded with curated personas, transactional validation, and competing narratives, creating an illusion of connection while simultaneously sowing the seeds of distrust and disconnection. The irony lies in the fact that our quest for social validation often leaves us at the mercy of sociopathy, as the very tools designed to augment human interaction fracture the essence of community.

Through this lens, it becomes essential to engage with the pressing question: Is evil merely a manifestation of individual pathology, or is it a socially propagated anomaly? A deft intertwining of psychological and societal factors reveals troubling conclusions: as we disengage from the humanity of others, we normalize a culture rife with Machiavellian practices. Natural affection erodes beneath the surface, yielding to the rationalization of 'ends justify the means,' cultivating a relentless environment where ethics are but a nuisance.

Moreover, the unrelenting pace and exhaustive reach of social media further exacerbate these dynamics. The algorithms that govern our feeds act as insidious gatekeepers, dictating what we value, thereby skewing perceptions of credibility and morality. Such an environment fosters a toxic normalization of exploitation, where the limits of human decency are constantly tested. Ultimately, the soul of humanity crumbles beneath the weight of our digital aspirations, breeding self-serving acts veiled as socially acceptable.

It is critical to confront the personal responsibility woven within this moral paradox. Each engagement, each decision, and each interaction carries profound implications, beckoning us to become vigilant protectors of our ethical boundaries. By understanding the psychological underpinnings of evil, we regain agency in the reclamation of our shared humanity, urging a collective recalibration towards authenticity and empathy, even amidst the immense pressures of an increasingly fractured society.

The Machinery of Machiavellianism: Deconstructing the Politics of Power

Machiavellianism, with its roots entrenched in the manipulation and exploitation of others for personal gain, serves as an illustrative case study of how power dynamics operate in the maze of social relations. Individuals masterfully negotiate their motives within a political landscape that prizes an unscrupulous approach to achieving success. Political goods, in their extreme, become instruments of control, yielding collateral damage in the quest for authority.

In the grand chess game of our societal structure, every player seeks to maneuver strategically, often unaware or uncaring of the ramifications of their calculated moves. This incessant pursuit of dominance leads to the commodification of human relationships, where individuals are regarded as mere pawns rather than integral participants. This blurring of identities fosters a toxic environment, where respect erodes, and moral integrity becomes a relic of the past—deemed unnecessary in the relentless race for supremacy.

Simultaneously, the emergence of social media complicates these power relationships, injecting a layer of abstraction that disassociates individuals from real consequences. The phrase “cancel culture” encapsulates the paradox of accountability transformed into a frantic cycle of judgment, where reputations are swiftly shattered without the nuanced understanding they deserve. This accelerates a mechanism where moral failings abound, and authenticity gives way to the guise of perfection and conformity.

However, as political opportunism dances hand-in-hand with moral vacuity, we are left at a crossroads. The question looms large: can we safely confront the conditioned Machiavellian tendencies that now exist within ourselves? Recognizing these inclinations as we navigate the digital labyrinth exposes the uncomfortable truth that we often perpetuate the very evils we seek to eradicate. Self-awareness becomes paramount; acknowledging our complicity fosters growth and the possibility of reclaiming ethical integrity.

The societal reverberations of Machiavellianism send shockwaves through our interpersonal relationships, demanding an urgent reawakening of moral sovereignty. In this process of deconstruction, the paradox emerges: the very dynamics that allow power to thrive can, if redirected, serve as catalysts for authentic engagement. As the pursuit of political goods continues unabated, we must be unwavering in our resolve to reassess the boundaries of power within our insular communities, reimagining what it means to hold one another in genuine respect.

Beyond the Screen: The Interplay of Moral Deficiency and Political Apathy on Social Media

Social media, once lauded as a revolutionary conduit for dialogue, has insidiously morphed into a breeding ground for moral vacuity and political degradation. What began as a platform for genuine connection has become a sprawling landscape riddled with psychopathic influences that manipulate our every thought and sentiment. This digital playground, where empathy is reduced to mere pixels on a screen, stands as a grotesque testament to our collective failure to engage with suffering in any significant way. Instead of fostering compassion, we have cultivated a voyeuristic detachment that strips the humanity from human experience.

In this frenetic pursuit of engagement, we appear to delight in the spectacle of tragedy, transforming grief into clickbait and activism into a hollow performance. The relentless quest for virality leads us to mistake shallow interactions for true solidarity, as our social feeds become echo chambers of hollow platitudes devoid of the weight of authentic emotional investment. The dissonance is alarming: while we parade our ‘allies’ in hashtags and retweets, we remain obstinately incapable of translating that superficial engagement into meaningful action that resonates in the real world.

This commodification of our moral choices leaves us ensnared in a grotesque caricature of authenticity. The marketplace of ideas devolves into a cacophony of self-censorship, where nuance is abandoned in favor of bite-sized narratives that cater to our short attention spans. Our moral compasses are irreparably fractured, shaped by algorithmic machinations that delight in radicalizing our perspectives, nudging us further into the extremes of thought. Here, right and wrong are no longer defined by ethical principles but by the allure of likes and the ephemeral nature of digital approval.

Such revelations should inspire an instinctual revulsion in those who still possess a semblance of moral integrity. It is imperative that we disentangle ourselves from these corrosive digital alliances, a necessary purification to reclaim our moral agency. We must vigorously pursue the highest political goods, rebuffing the manipulative grasp of these platforms that revel in our complicity. By severing these insidious ties, we assert our commitment to a renewed dialogue rooted in genuine ethical engagement, free from the fetid influences of psychopathy and Machiavellian manipulation. Let us rise to this moral challenge, striving to restore integrity to our political landscape, transforming every interaction into a potent catalyst for authentic change, lest we continue to sink further into the mire of disingenuousness.

The algorithms orchestrating our social media interactions serve as accelerants in the pernicious disintegration of ethics, prioritizing engagement metrics that overtly disregard the well-being of our communities. In this bleak paradigm, a user's intrinsic value is quantified by their capacity to amass 'likes' and fleeting attention, overshadowing the profundity of their contributions to discourse or societal advancement. As we surrender our moral autonomy to the whims of these digital overlords, we inadvertently cultivate an environment where Machiavellian principles thrive, camouflaged beneath a veneer of social connectivity.

The unsettling introspection necessary to confront our complicity within this warped reality emerges as a formidable undertaking. To bear witness to our true selves—entangled within the gears of moral decay—calls for a profound reckoning with our actions in this digital landscape. We must strive for a recalibration of our media engagement, awakening a consciousness that scrutinizes how our participation shapes our ethical standings in a system engineered to perpetuate superficiality, where authentic connection languishes in abeyance. Only through this critical examination can we hope to extricate ourselves from the prevailing tides of moral coarseness and reclaim our agency in fostering a more compassionate society.

Fragmented Trust: Confronting the Influences of Political Networks Online

In the theatre of digital politics, we witness an abhorrent spectacle where alliances morph into mere tools of manipulation, further orchestrated by algorithms that regard individuals as nothing more than disembodied data points. This systematic dehumanization breeds a toxic environment ripe for Machiavellian tactics, where the highest moral good—the genuine commitment to justice and humanity—becomes secondary to the pursuit of engagement metrics and viral outrage. Our political affiliations are no longer expressions of deeply held beliefs but instead are shallow echoes of self-serving interests, fueled by psychopathic tendencies lurking within the gray matter of social media platforms.

The moral repugnance of this reality should inspire a visceral aversion to remaining entrenched in this chaos of calculated discord and reactivity. It is imperative that we detach ourselves from the insidious influences that poison our collective discourse, recognizing that any semblance of political "goods" achieved under such conditions is inherently tainted. A deliberate withdrawal from these corrupted dynamics is not merely advisable; it is an ethical imperative. By actively choosing disengagement, we safeguard our moral core from the corrosive impact of a system predicated on subterfuge and manipulation.

To rediscover our humanity—a concept grotesquely warped in this battlefield of pixels—demands an unyielding commitment to empathy and realness. This journey begins with a zealous rejection of the superficiality that defines our current digital interactions. A mindfulness practice that encourages us to perceive each person as a unique tapestry of experiences, rather than an interchangeable unit on a political graph, must be embraced. We must confront the discomfort that comes with recognizing our complicity in these systems, and instead cultivate a sense of shared dignity that defies algorithmic categorization.

The onus rests upon us to forge a new collective fabric woven from genuine dialogue, one that prioritizes depth over the ever-present demands for brevity. In a world pervaded by soundbites and sensationalism, the urgency to engage in meaningful conversations cannot be overstated. These interactions—laden with understanding, empathy, and compassion—emerge as crucial antidotes to the desensitization that pervades our political landscape. Here, storytelling becomes our most powerful ally; as we illuminate our individual narratives, we simultaneously humanize the faceless masses and reestablish critical connections.

Let us work at dismantling the structures that have allowed Machiavellian principles to flourish unchecked, and reject the political engagements that diminish us to mere pawns in a game of divided interests. Only through intentional disengagement can we hope to ascend beyond this morally bankrupt arena, reclaiming the authentic political goods that arise from a place of integrity, compassion, and profound respect for our shared humanity. It is time to sever the bonds of manipulation and restore the righteous complexity inherent in our connections.

Rediscovering humanity is far from a solitary pursuit; it necessitates an urgent, almost desperate, collective action against the pervasive moral disintegration that permeates our society. We find ourselves ensnared in comfortable apathy, unwilling to confront the unsettling truth: the dignity of the individual is grotesquely compromised in the pursuit of self-interest. To embrace vulnerability in this context is to engage in an act of moral reclamation—a declaration that we will no longer be complicit in the deranged transformation of empathy into a commodity, traded and bartered in the marketplace of human interaction.

What we’re faced with is not merely an idyllic vision of a kinder world but a pressing indictment of our failure to cultivate environments that foster authentic connections. The urgency of this moral imperative demands that we transcend our comfort zones, initiating a dialogue rooted in earnest intent. To fail in this endeavor is to exacerbate the crises of isolation, alienation, and moral vacuity that define our current age. When we ignore the ethical implications of our interactions—digital or otherwise—we reduce ourselves to mere specters, haunting our communities while the shadows of disconnection deepen.

Empathy emerges as a guiding virtue, yet we must question whether our embrace of it is sincere or merely performative. Can our society truly be collaborative if it continues to indulge in Machiavellian ambitions that prioritize power and manipulation over mutual respect? It is vital to confront the moral bankruptcy that allows such ambitions to thrive, dismantling the edifice of exploitation with actions that prioritize the well-being of others over self-serving agendas. In doing so, we restore hope in a humanity that is, at its core, designed to connect rather than divide.

The necessity of reframing our perspectives cannot be overstated. Our digitally-mediated existence must not overshadow the stark moral obligations that tether us together. Discomfort should be actively sought, for it is through grappling with the unsettling truths of our ethical landscape that we can stimulate meaningful change. Each attempt to resurrect empathy becomes an act of resistance against the insidious forces of moral decay, and it is these forces—the very embodiment of apathy and disengagement—that we must confront with unflinching resolve.

In this relentless pursuit of rediscovering our humanity, we must grapple with the most alarming reality today: our moral compass is disturbingly miscalibrated. To remain complacent is to betray not only ourselves but also the collective potential that lies within our grasp. By inspiring moral disgust at the absurdity of our unexamined lives—the rampant individualism, the callous disregard for the plight of others—we can ignite a fervent commitment to change. The path to redemption is fraught with challenges, yet it is through recognition of our interconnectedness that we can forge a society where dignity, respect, and authentic engagement are not mere aspirations but the very fabric of our existence.

Facing Ourselves: The Quest for Personal Accountability

In the murky depths of our contemporary political discourse, one cannot help but recognize the grotesque irony of our online behaviors. These behaviors, ostensibly dressed as justice and progress, often devolve into a carnival of narcissistic self-promotion and moral posturing that ultimately serves only to further entrench the very systems of exploitation we purport to challenge. This scathing examination compels us to grapple with the profound truth: our digital interactions actually betray a complacency far too egregious to ignore.

Engaging in self-examination requires an unapologetic confrontation with the uncomfortable realities that underpin our political affiliations. We must question not only the integrity of the platforms we inhabit but also the motives behind our own engagement. It is all too easy to succumb to the seductive pull of echo chambers, wherein our convictions are fortified through relentless affirmation, perpetuating cycles of moral disengagement that stifle genuine discourse. Such self-imposed isolation is an affront to the principles of solidarity and community that we profess to champion.

The imperative to separate ourselves from these toxic digital landscapes is not merely a matter of personal integrity but an urgent and moral mandate. Our collective complicity in this charade breeds a culture in which emotional disconnection is glorified, and empathy is traded for fleeting moments of online applause. Every like, share, and comment is a tacit endorsement of a more insidious narrative that prioritizes sensationalism over substance, ultimately feasting upon the very humanity we claim to elevate.

In a world where political goods are so easily manipulated for the gain of a few, we must renounce our association with the schemes of self-serving influencers. The highest moral good resides in the courage to dissociate from this digital theater of the absurd, where our purported ideals are wielded as mere instruments of manipulation. It is through this radical act of separation that we might carve a path toward real political engagement, untainted by the corrosive influences of narcissism.

In this profound odyssey of confrontation and disillusionment, we must embrace the imperative to restrict, if not completely destroy, our political allegiances. The path forward lies not in passive engagement with disingenuous narratives, but in actively cultivating spaces that embody our highest ethical aspirations. Only then can we truly aspire to enact change that is reflective of our shared humanity, free from the taint of exploitation and moral vacuity.

In this brave pursuit of authenticity, let us rise above the chaos of dissonance that characterizes our political climate and forge alliances that honor the dignity of each individual. Together, we can reveal the hollow absurdities that underpin our current affiliations and establish a framework predicated on genuine solidarity—one that prioritizes real political goods over the seductive allure of performative outrage. This is the only way to reclaim our integrity and restore faith in our collective potential as agents of meaningful change.

Navigating these treacherous waters demands a confrontation with the cognitive dissonance that festers in our collective psyche, a dissonance woven intricately into the fabric of our lived experiences. The imperative is unmistakable: we must reclaim our moral integrity, despite the insidious societal pressures that seek to erode it, and dismantle the veils of self-interest that obscure our most basic ethical bonds.

In a world rife with pernicious norms that work to condition our thoughts and behaviors, we possess an extraordinary potential for change—both as individuals and as a collective consciousness. This path toward rediscovering our humanity is not merely a personal quest; it is an arduous navigation through a labyrinth of sociocultural complexities that distort our reflections. It is an unsettling journey wherein we must unflinchingly confront our own duplicities until we reclaim the dignity that is rightfully owed to each individual.

Yet, let us not be naïve. Every day, the oppressive weight of societal manipulation seeks to ensnare us in its web, coercing compliance and fostering complicity in systems designed to benefit a privileged few at the expense of the many. To engage with these calculated machinations is to tarnish our moral fabric, rendering us mere pawns in a game that prioritizes distorted power dynamics over human dignity.

We must cultivate a conscientious disengagement from these toxic interactions, recognizing that our participation in politically manipulated agendas is a betrayal of our intrinsic values. To eschew these corrosive influences is to reclaim agency over our judgments and actions. The time has come to challenge the prevailing narratives that attempt to dictate our realities, for true moral courage lies not in acquiescence to societal dictates, but in the resolute defiance of a world that commodifies human dignity.

Let us provoke an awakening within ourselves and our communities, igniting a fervent rejection of mediocrity and moral compromise. In this collective resurrection of conscience, we will fortify our resolve to honor the sanctity of our individual and shared humanity, liberating ourselves from the chains of superficial engagement that threaten to suffocate our moral essence. The birthright of dignity is ours to reclaim, and in doing so, we redefine the terms of our existence, forging a path toward a genuinely ethical society unshackled from the tendrils of manipulation and self-interest.

Conclusion

In the final analysis, the intricacies of evil and the undercurrents of political Machiavellianism necessitate a relentless examination of both the personal and societal boundaries that now governing human interactions. Each projection of political good, often cloaked in altruistic rhetoric, is fraught with the potential for harm, underscoring an urgent call to restore the bedrock of our moral identity. This imperative for recuperation hinges on a profound commitment to introspection and empathy, coupled with a recognition that our choices reverberate throughout the intricate tapestry of human experience, impacting the very fabric of our communities.

While the shadows of moral decay may loom large and foreboding, the act of confronting the implications of our existence—whether in the digital cosmos or the tangible world—grants us the means to carve a pathway toward reclamation and accountability. As we embark on this arduous collective endeavor, we must confront the obstructions that hinder authentic connection, recognizing that our shared humanity serves as the beacon of moral clarity amidst the tumult of sociopolitical machinations.

In this transformative journey, we bear the responsibility to reshape the discourse surrounding our interactions, prioritizing our ethical commitments over the transient allure of political ambitions that often prioritize self-interest over collective well-being. By positioning our moral obligations at the forefront, we position ourselves as architects of a renewed ethical landscape—one that eschews the manipulative intricacies of modern existence in favor of a substantive engagement with our humanity. It is through this conscious re-engagement with our deepest shared values that we can foster meaningful change and ignite the spark of collective responsibility that resists the corrosive influence of moral decay.

[historynerdj2]

Things I learned in my Political theory class in uni:

“An amateur understanding of Machiavellianism is believing that Jaffar from Aladdin is the perfect Machiavellian. A true understanding of Machiavellianism is knowing that Aladdin is the ideal Machiavellian prince.”

Well what am I going to do with this info?

[riddlesera]

Tom and his love for Machiavelli.

..will post the whole book as he reads it on my patreon - patreon.com/youraudiomystory

[mxbirdman]

Dumbledore and Machiavelli??

IM RESEARCHJNG MACHIAVELLI RN AND I CANT STOP DRAWING LINES BETWEEN HIS PHILOSIPHIES AND DUMBLEDORE

“immoral actions are ok in political situations” DUMBLEDORE???

“a good leader needs virtù; not the moral goodness virtue but a flexibility in order to go between good and evil for the greater good” DUMBLEY???

the main differences i see are machiavelli was mostly honest about it. like, bro went “yeah morals are iffy in politics” and yeah. but dumbledore was just like “i am Good! i am Light!”

rip machiavelli you would’ve had such a love hate relationship with dumbledore