In my previous article, on the defense of the Fake News Bill, I argued that part of that defense may have occurred not out of genuine belief in the bill, but as a relief valve. Given the individual incapacity — and in a way, the unwillingness — to take actions with real problem-solving power, approving the bill would mean being able to continue using the same harmful platforms we now depend on, rather than proposing something genuinely new. It was not a campaign for a new paradigm of social networks, but for mitigating a few of the current paradigm's ills — without fundamentally challenging it.
It is true, however, that my argument sets aside the reality of the political game that dominated the discussion. But it does so consciously. The bill's approval would mean not only the possibility of measures now, but a victory for the current government over its opposition that extends far beyond the bill itself. I deny none of that. And I know that many of its defenders are cynically aware of these dynamics. But it is precisely that cynicism I want to push back against.
Interpassivity and WALL-E
In his book Capitalist Realism, Mark Fisher (2020) elucidates the concept of "interpassivity" using the film WALL-E (2008) as his example. The film, in its critique of runaway consumerism and its ruinous consequences — Earth as an uninhabitable planet, civilization's escape to space, and the domination of minds and bodies by the corporation Buy n Large, which is most responsible for all of it — performs anti-capitalism on our behalf. This lets us continue consuming openly and without consequence. This interpassivity is only possible because of our cynicism toward the state of things — that is, because of the capitalist realism that dominates even current progressive movements.
And as Žižek (2008) argues, if we take the classical definition of ideology — "in which the illusion is located in knowledge" — the cynicism we now have toward our capitalist reality would make us a post-ideological society. But, he insists, "the fundamental level of ideology [...] is not of an illusion masking the real state of things, but that of an (unconscious) fantasy which structures our social reality itself" (p. 30). That is: we are still a fundamentally ideological society, since even as we distance ourselves cynically and ironically from consumerist and socially, environmentally, and culturally degrading behaviors, we continue behaving in precisely those ways. As if the mere awareness of the harm produced by such a lifestyle were enough to redeem us for maintaining it.
The Impossibility of the Genuinely New
What we are left with, ultimately, is the inability to imagine futures radically different from the reality we currently inhabit. When confronted with real and serious problems, we defend, cynically, ineffective political decisions. While criticizing and campaigning for social network regulation, we continue using technological tools whose fundamental model is itself the cause of the problems we seek to abolish. Fisher, commenting on the anti-capitalist movement at the dawn of this century, notes that "perhaps the goal was no longer to overcome capitalism, but simply to mitigate its excesses." In the same way, progressive activism no longer seems to have as its objective overcoming the colonization of social networks — merely mitigating its excesses.
This is why, despite the realism and cynicism that have taken over the Fake News Bill discussion, I hold to the argument of my previous text. If we do not dare to imagine a new future — with new paradigms and new ways of interacting with and through social networks — no one will do it for us. It is not about legal viability or political calculations around the decisions; it is about opening space for something new to flourish.
Frank Zappa and Progressive Neoliberalism
This whole mess reminds me of a famous statement by musician Frank Zappa about the decline of the music industry. Zappa criticizes a new wave of businesspeople and executives who began occupying leadership roles in the music industry in the mid-1970s. For him, this new generation was even more conservative than the old "cigar-chomping capitalists." If the latter, in their artistic ignorance, promoted a fertile and experimental industry driven solely by the pursuit of greater profits, the new "hip" directors — those who understood the tastes of youth — sought to standardize musical production, shaping it according to the desires attributed to the young audiences of the time. What Zappa was witnessing was the beginning of a long process of convergence between neoliberalism and progressive causes — the focus of Nancy Fraser's book The Old Is Dying and the New Cannot Be Born (2021).
As Fraser explains, before the rise of the new neoliberal and ultraconservative right — Trump, and Bolsonaro — the hegemonic bloc that dominated much of the West was that of progressive neoliberalism. An unlikely but powerful combination of neoliberal policies and meritocratic ideology, varnished over with — some — progressive causes extracted — partially — from anti-capitalist movements. The hip directors Zappa referred to are a prime example of this combination: backed by corporate meritocratic legitimacy, these managers used — and still use — concepts from countercultural and youth movements as a veneer for the industrial, anti-creative production of musical products. Products that often took the form of the very anti-capitalism that allows us interpassivity when we consume them.
The result of this hegemony was, according to Fraser, the formation of a rhetorical vacuum into which figures like Trump inserted themselves and rose — promising a reactionary populism to get elected, then delivering a hyper-reactionary neoliberalism once in power. Even more troubling for Fraser, the solution on offer is not a progressive populism — represented by figures like Bernie Sanders — but a zombie neoliberalism, which we saw materialize in Biden's election. And, as she warned before it happened: "Neither of them [hyper-reactionary neoliberalism or progressive neoliberalism] can reverse declining living standards, rising debt, climate change, social benefit 'deficits,' or intolerable pressures on community life. Reinstalling either of these blocs in power means ensuring not only their continuation, but an intensification of the current crisis" (p. 58).
Are we to once again extend the various crises assailing us? Unable to envision any genuinely new future, will we choose the "least bad" option? Satisfied to mitigate the ills of the structures that oppress us, without ever daring to alter them radically? It seems we are fated to repeat the same mistakes that allowed the rise of what we seek to combat. All because, in our cynicism and — capitalist — realism, we have become incapable of even imagining, of demanding structural change, and we satisfy ourselves with relief valves, progressive consumerism, and unhealthy doses of interpassivity. Regulating Fake News and Big Tech has its urgency and function — but is that all we are capable of? Is that really as far as we are willing to imagine?
References
- Fisher, M. (2020). Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative? Zero Books.
- Fraser, N. (2021). The Old Is Dying and the New Cannot Be Born. Verso.
- Žižek, S. (2008). The Sublime Object of Ideology (2nd ed.). Verso Books.
// Note: This is a translated and lightly adapted version of the original Portuguese text. The author will review and revise this translation.