Don't sell people an incomplete map and then blame them for getting lost. I've been sitting with that thought for weeks because the more I look around, the more I realize that many of the frustrations we carry as a society are not simply about unemployment, corruption, inequality or even money. They are about the stories we tell one another. From the time we are children, we are handed maps for how life is supposed to work. Study hard and life will work out. Get a degree and you'll find a good job. Work hard and success will follow. Save consistently and you'll become financially secure. Find your passion and the money will come. Marry the right person and everything else will fall into place. Believe in yourself. Think positively. Stay disciplined. None of these statements is entirely false. But none of them is entirely true either. The problem is rarely what they say. The problem is what they leave unsaid. Because what is omitted from a story is often just as powerful...
For the past month, I’ve been watching Netflix — something I rarely do. I don’t subscribe to entertainment platforms; I don’t binge shows; I don’t keep up. But this month, I scrolled, sampled, and let myself be carried through the endless conveyor belt of content. And somewhere between dating shows, scripted drama, and predictable plots, I realized something unsettling: so much of what we call “entertainment” isn’t reflecting life — it’s scripting it. The stories may look different, but the messaging is the same. A dating show in Los Angeles echoes one in Brazil, which mirrors one filmed in South Africa. And the formula hardly shifts: alcohol, tension, betrayal, temptation, chaos. Reality TV is not reality — it’s a machine of engineered dysfunction dressed as modern love. What surprised me wasn’t the drama. It was the consistency. Why do all these shows rely on the same emotional ingredients? Why is alcohol a permanent character? Why is infidelity an expectation rather than a...