Several years ago, I argued that dehumanization had become an unstoppable force in our societies. Since then, the trend has only accelerated, climbing ever higher on the global index of misery. In the few independent media outlets and free forums that still exist, speculation about this phenomenon continues. Yet these discussions increasingly feel like rearguard battles. More and more media are being absorbed by owners who have no regard for free speech — and sometimes not even for truth itself.
The advancing face of dehumanization is visible daily in images from Ukraine and Gaza: wars sustained by the cynical calculation of leaders who require conflict to hold onto power. Putin and Netanyahu have perfected the strategy, Trump is catching up, Xi maneuvers shrewdly on the sidelines, and the rest of the world either watches in dismay or turns away.
When Morality Is Stripped Away
This strategy works because it dismantles the moral framework that once underpinned democratic societies. Humanity, rooted in the sanctity of life and the fair distribution of well-being, depends on ethical values such as protection, freedom of expression, and the right to choose. Democratic checks on power are built on those foundations. Once morality is removed, oversight becomes mute and powerless. Power invents its own language and logic, where human ethics no longer apply — not even when children in genocidal wars are denied medical care. Even the word “genocide” only has meaning in cultures where human life is valued, not in systems where everything is subordinated to preserving control.
The Economics of Power
Margaret Thatcher, the UK’s first female prime minister, set the stage in 1979 by redirecting funds away from social welfare and into corporate coffers. She helped build the neoliberal economy that has since created staggering inequality in income and wealth — a reservoir from which today’s rulers draw freely, reducing people to little more than consumers.
Education was one of the pillars deliberately weakened in this process. High-quality education became prohibitively expensive for the majority, while public education was stripped down. Elite circles retained access to advanced knowledge, while the broader population sank deeper into ignorance. This widened not only internal social divides but also the gulf between politics and business.
The internet briefly threatened to upend this imbalance by making information nearly universally available. But a handful of tech billionaires swiftly contained that potential, using their wealth, monopolies, algorithms, and armies of disinformation agents.
The climate movement, too, almost built enough momentum to challenge entrenched interests. Yet pandemics and wars conveniently diverted public attention, shifting fear toward the uncertainties of tomorrow and suspicion of cultural “others.”
Divide and Rule
Power never shares; it divides. Critiques of neoliberal economics — whether voiced by politicians or climate activists — rely heavily on scientific evidence because both the problems and the solutions are highly complex. To even partially grasp such complexity often requires an IQ of around 120, which only about 9% of the population possesses. Many of those individuals, meanwhile, are directly involved in sustaining the neoliberal system. It is therefore unsurprising that progressive and environmental movements struggle to gain traction. By contrast, their opponents deploy simple slogans that resonate widely, playing on immediate fears regardless of accuracy. Divisions within leftist and green movements, combined with widespread disillusionment in politics, further ensure that resistance remains fractured and weak.
Progress in the Service of Dehumanization
We are consuming ourselves to exhaustion under the banner of progress. In the process, we finance — knowingly or not — our own dehumanization and the erosion of our freedoms. The evolution of major US corporations illustrates this dynamic.
Apple, valued at about $3.7 trillion in 2025, dwarfs IBM’s $32 billion market capitalization when it was America’s largest company in 1975. Apple today is worth more than 100 times IBM then, even though the US economy itself has only grown tenfold in the same period.
The landscape of corporate dominance has shifted as well. In 1975, six of the world’s ten biggest firms were oil companies. By 2025, only Saudi Aramco remains in that group; the rest are US tech giants.
Together, Apple, Microsoft, NVIDIA, Amazon, Alphabet (Google), Meta (Facebook), Berkshire Hathaway, Tesla, Eli Lilly, and Visa now command a combined value of roughly $20.5 trillion — nearly 70% of US GDP. Such concentration of wealth and influence is unprecedented.
Where oil once fueled domination, technology now defines it — shaping societies, reinforcing control, and pushing life toward ever greater dehumanization. The shift is evident in how we communicate: once face-to-face, then by phone, later through screens and social media, and now increasingly through AI systems masquerading as people. The scope for manipulation — even with the data we freely hand over — has grown exponentially, and it continues to accelerate.
Dehumanization as a Tool of Power
Treating civilian deaths as “collateral damage” in war is one extreme form of dehumanization. So too is reducing people to threats based on origin, religion, legal status, or other categories. Declaring entire groups inferior or unwanted — as certain American influencers now do regarding women or LGBTQ+ communities — strips away human dignity. Dehumanization begins the moment the wholeness of humanity is denied, and authoritarian power exploits it to erode freedom and democracy.
The immense financial and technological power of a handful of tech firms amplifies this process. Mass media reduce entire groups to perceived societal threats, while silencing or isolating critics. Twitter, rebranded as X under Elon Musk, enforces censorship; the Washington Post, under Amazon’s Jeff Bezos, has been accused of veering into partisanship while dismissing critical journalists. A sitting US president brands any unwelcome coverage as “fake news.”
Censorship extends beyond media to literature. The Handmaid’s Tale is banned or removed from libraries in Texas, Florida, Missouri, and Virginia, with restrictions elsewhere. 1984 faces bans in Florida and Georgia and mounting challenges in other states. Both books describe dystopian futures — visions increasingly echoed by America’s present reality. Even in the Netherlands, attacks on books and authors deemed undesirable by the right are becoming more common.
Ultimately, new enemies are declared both at home and abroad, with war itself deployed as the ultimate instrument of power. The circle closes.
Can the Circle Be Broken?
In 2022, I wrote: We keep hoping, because it remains possible. Today, that hope feels more fragile than ever. Hope itself has become the last lifeline. For now, I can still write these words. But will we reach a point where even writing is forbidden — or where our very dreams are monitored by forced AI integration? In the end, nothing inhuman is alien to humankind.
