If You Can Stay Calm While the World Around You Descends into Chaos, Congratulations—You’ve Probably Just Achieved Peak Indifference.

How to Stop Scrolling, Start Caring, and Actually Make a Difference.

In a world where reality feels increasingly like a badly written dystopian novel, staying calm while the world burns around you might seem like a superpower. But let’s be honest: it’s not. It’s indifference, and it’s spreading faster than the latest TikTok trend. The question isn’t whether we’re numb to the chaos; it’s whether we’re willing to admit that we are.

The Global Carnival of Chaos

Let’s start with the big stuff: wars, genocides, and governments that seem to treat “democracy” more like a suggestion than a requirement. We’ve seen a parade of illegal invasions, the kinds that would make even the most optimistic U.N. peacekeeper question the reality of what they are seeing unfold. Just look at Ukraine, an entire country embroiled in conflict while the rest of the world debates how many strongly worded letters it should send. According to The Guardian, over 90% of Ukrainians wanted NATO to intervene in 2023, but the response was more "thoughts and prayers" than "boots on the ground."

And let’s not forget Myanmar, where a brutal military coup has led to ongoing genocide against the Rohingya people. If there were an award for collective international indifference, this would also be a front-runner.

But no discussion of modern-day carnage would be complete without addressing the situation in Palestine. The world’s longest-running occupation has recently hit a new low, which is saying something given the region’s history. To understand how we got here, we need to rewind to the days, weeks, years, even decades before October 7th, 2023—a date that, for Palestinians, will likely be added to the long list of tragedies marked by tears and unheeded cries for justice.

Occupied Palestine: The Pre-October 7th Reality

Before the latest escalation, Palestine was already a tinderbox, with decades of military occupation, blockades, and systemic discrimination leaving the Palestinian people in a state of perpetual crisis. The situation in Gaza, often described as the world’s largest open-air prison, had deteriorated to the point where electricity and clean water were luxuries, and basic human rights were as scarce as peaceful nights. Meanwhile, the West Bank remained a patchwork of checkpoints, walls, and settlements, where daily life felt more like navigating a minefield than living in a supposedly modern world.

To understand the present, you sometimes have to dig deep into the past, a past in this case littered with treaties, declarations, and the kind of political decisions that make you question whether anyone involved had ever read a history book. The Balfour Declaration of 1917 is a prime example. It’s one of those documents that should come with a "Warning: May Contain Triggers for Future Generations" label.

For those not familiar with this charming slice of imperial history, the Balfour Declaration was the British government’s rather bold decision to promise a "national home for the Jewish people" in Palestine—without bothering to ask the people already living there how they felt about it. It was the geopolitical equivalent of inviting your mates to move into your neighbors house, without checking if the neighbors are okay with it. The Balfour declaration also stated that “nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities.” A promise that has been repeatedly breached under successive Israeli governments. The declaration’s ambiguity, particularly regarding the rights of the Palestinian Arab population, has led to a systematic disregard for their civil and religious rights and the declaration laid the groundwork for decades of conflict, displacing Palestinians and setting the stage for the region’s ongoing turmoil. Fast forward a century, and the consequences of that decision are still unfolding, with no end in sight.

The state of Israel was only established in 1948, leading to the first Arab-Israeli war and the mass displacement of Palestinians—an event they refer to as the Nakba, or "catastrophe."

So here we are, over a century after the Balfour Declaration, still grappling with its fallout. The world’s selective memory when it comes to Palestine is not just a historical oversight; it’s a deliberate choice. Major powers have consistently sidestepped their moral obligations, preferring instead to offer hollow statements of "support" while doing little to address the root causes of the conflict.

If the Balfour Declaration was the spark that lit the powder keg, then the international community’s ongoing indifference is the fuel keeping it burning. The tragedy is that the people paying the price for these historical missteps are those with the least power to change the situation: ordinary Palestinians living under occupation, their lives shaped by decisions made in far-off capitals a century ago.

In the years leading up to October 7th 2023, the so-called “peace process” had long since died of neglect, buried under a pile of unfulfilled promises and broken treaties. The international community, particularly Western powers, seemed content to let the situation fester, occasionally doling out humanitarian aid like a band-aid on a bullet wound, while refusing to address the root causes of the conflict. The narrative had been carefully curated: one side was framed as the aggressor, while the other was conveniently cast as the perennial victim. The reality, of course, was far more complex, but who has time for nuance when there’s a war to ignore?

The Spark That Lit the Powder Keg

Then came October 7th 2023, when an attack by Hamas sparked a full-scale military response from Israel that quickly escalated into one of the deadliest conflicts in recent history. Entire neighbourhoods in Gaza were flattened, and the death toll skyrocketed, with civilians, many of them children—bearing the brunt of the violence. According to Al Jazeera, by the end of October 2023, the number of Palestinian casualties had reached unprecedented levels, making it one of the deadliest months in the region’s troubled history.

The world’s reaction? A mix of outrage, apathy, and a troubling tendency to blame the victims. Israel’s government, under the guise of self-defense, launched a campaign that many human rights organisations described as collective punishment, an act illegal under international law but seemingly tolerated when it’s politically convenient. Meanwhile, Palestinians in the West Bank faced increased settler violence, with many reports and evidence of homes being torched and their olive groves destroyed, an agricultural lifeline for many Palestinian families. According to the Times of Israel, "Due to the dire sanitation conditions in Gaza, the Israeli army is now administering vaccinations to troops before they enter the area to safeguard against potential health risks" (source: Times of Israel, August 2024).

In this current phase of the Gaza conflict, no “ordinary people” anywhere in the world emerge as a clear winner - everyone is getting screwed. Palestinians are suffering severe persecution and high casualties, erasing entire generations. Simultaneously, Jewish people abroad are facing a dramatic increase in antisemitic abuse and violence following the escalations. Within Israel, Jews who protest the government's actions, including the forced conscription of Hasidic Jews in violation of their beliefs, face brutal repression. The current Israeli government's policies are detrimental not only to its own citizens but also to Jewish communities worldwide. Furthermore, the economic burden of this conflict falls heavily on Western nations already grappling with economic difficulties, forcing them to impose austerity measures on their own populations while funding the conflict abroad.

The Silent War on Truth: Journalists in the Crossfire

If you think it couldn’t get any worse, let’s talk about the journalists brave enough, or perhaps just naïve enough, to cover these events on the ground. Being a member of the press in conflict zones like Palestine isn’t just a tough gig; it’s a death sentence waiting to happen. According to Reporters Without Borders (RSF), as of September 26th, 2024, a staggering 130+ journalists have been killed in the region since the conflict’s escalation in October 2023. That’s right, 130 human beings, reporters, photographers, videographers, who dared to shine a light on the atrocities, only to have their lives snuffed out for their trouble.

These aren’t just numbers; they’re people who believed in the power of truth, who thought that maybe, just maybe, the world would pay attention if only they could get the story out. Instead, they became statistics, casualties of a war on truth that the world seems more than happy to ignore. This isn’t just about silencing voices; it’s about erasing the narrative entirely, leaving behind a vacuum where only propaganda can thrive. There are now no foreign news organizations allowed into Gaza, with the only permitted press trips into Gaza having been via Israeli Defense Forces-controlled embeds (where a journalist travels with the military therefore restricting their ability to see or cover stories). The embedding of journalists has always been controversial when it comes to them being objectively unbiased. This was clearly illustrated in the Gulf war when it became common place. Let’s face it, if you’re a journalist travailing around a conflict zone, your unlikely to write negatively about the soldiers your traveling with who are also responsible for your safety and well-being, not withstanding the point the whole environment is designed to create a bond. It’s hardly conducive to impartiality.

At the time of my (original) writing, the most recent press victim, as reported by Reporters Without Borders, was a Palestinian photojournalist covering the aftermath of an airstrike in Gaza. He was killed by what witnesses described as a targeted strike on the press vehicle he was riding in. The vehicle was clearly marked, but in a conflict where journalists are seen as enemies rather than neutral observers, such markers are little more than bullseyes. In Gaza the red crosses on ambulances have been treated in much the same way.

This systematic targeting of journalists isn’t just an affront to press freedom; it’s a direct attack on our collective right to know. When reporters are killed, we all lose a piece of the truth. And yet, here we are, still scrolling, still consuming, still doing very little to stop the carnage.

TikTok: The Accidental Hero of Unfiltered Truth

While traditional media outlets have struggled to keep up, or have simply chosen not to, there’s been an unlikely hero in this mess: TikTok. Yes, the platform known for dance challenges and viral memes has also become a critical outlet for footage and stories that mainstream media either ignores or censors. It’s the place where videos of protests, police brutality, and the raw realities of conflict zones are shared, often in real-time. It’s also where many young people first encounter these issues, long before the evening news decides they’re worth a mention.

Take the footage we see coming out from Gaza, where TikTok became a vital tool for Palestinians to document the destruction and broadcast it to the world. These videos, often shot on shaky smartphones and uploaded in defiance of communication blackouts, have provided an unfiltered look at the realities of life under siege. According to a report by The Intercept, these clips have been crucial in shaping public perception, showing the human cost of the conflict in a way that sterile news reports simply can’t.

And that, of course, is precisely why Western governments are so keen to shut TikTok down. The official line is that it’s all about user data and security—because, apparently, we’re supposed to believe that Chinese data collection is somehow more nefarious than what Meta, Google / Alphabet, and every other tech giant have been doing for years. Never mind that The New York Times reported last year that Facebook’s own shady practices included handing over user data to U.S. law enforcement without warrants. TikTok is the enemy, we’re told, because it’s the one platform they haven’t quite figured out how to control. [Amendment: Since my original writing, TikTok has since agreed to begin censoring some content when requested by certain governments].

But here’s the thing: governments can’t control what they don’t understand. TikTok’s algorithm, with its ability to push content that doesn’t fit neatly into the narratives preferred by those in power, is a direct threat to the status quo. It’s no wonder then that the U.S. has spent years trying to either ban the app or force it to sell to an American company. Because when people start seeing the truth—raw, unfiltered, and in 30-second clips, it becomes a lot harder to maintain the illusion that everything is fine.

Global Indifference: Apathy or Acceptance?

So, how did we get here? The truth is, the world had already grown weary of Palestine long before October 7th. For years, the conflict had been reduced to background noise, something to shake your head at before scrolling past to the next cat video. Major news outlets, when they did bother to cover it, often presented the situation in a way that felt detached, almost clinical, as if reporting on a far-off disaster rather than a humanitarian crisis unfolding in real-time. It’s easy to become numb to suffering when it’s presented as a never-ending cycle of violence with no clear villain or hero. But that indifference, that casual dismissal of a people’s right to exist in peace, is precisely what allows such horrors to continue unchecked.

And this is where it all ties back into the broader theme of this article. The situation in Palestine isn’t just a distant tragedy, it’s a reflection of our collective failure to care. In a world where we can mobilize millions to tweet about a TV show finale, why can’t we muster the same energy to demand justice for those who need it most? The problem isn’t that we don’t know what’s happening, it’s that we’ve convinced ourselves that there’s nothing we can do about it.

But that’s a lie we tell ourselves to sleep better at night. The reality is, indifference is a choice, and so is action. Whether it’s speaking out against injustices, supporting credible organizations on the ground, or simply refusing to turn a blind eye, we can all do something. Because the alternative, remaining silent in the face of such blatant cruelty, isn’t just morally bankrupt, it’s a betrayal of our shared humanity.

Society’s Love Affair with Distraction

Given the chaos, it’s no wonder we’ve become a society obsessed with escapism. In a world where every headline feels like the end of days, who wouldn’t want to disappear into the comforting abyss of reality TV or the endless scroll of social media?

These distractions offer us an easy way out, a way to ignore the mess and pretend that everything’s fine. And they’re brilliantly designed to keep us hooked. Take reality TV, for example. It’s not just mindless entertainment; it’s a carefully engineered experience designed to keep our brains on autopilot. We all know how these shows often come with their own laughter soundtrack, well these days it goes much further, complete with their dramatic music cues and exaggerated sound effects. That’s not just for fun, it’s there to tell us how to feel—who to root for, who to hate, and when to gasp in shock. It’s emotional manipulation at its finest, and we’re more than happy to let it wash over us. The rise of shows like Love Island and The Bachelor reflects our craving for low-effort content, as noted by The New Yorker, who observed that these shows are essentially “a balm for the weary mind in a world of relentless bad news.”

Censorship and Shadow Banning: The Quiet Silencing

But here’s the kicker: even if you do manage to shine a light on the world’s problems, there’s a good chance your voice will be quietly silenced. Shadow banning on social media platforms has become the new censorship, allowing companies to suppress dissenting voices without the messy PR backlash of outright bans.

For example, X / Twitter’s infamous shadow banning practices were exposed in a 2022 investigation by The Intercept, revealing how certain users’ content was being hidden or limited in reach without their knowledge. I saw this with my own account as soon as I started posting and re-posing news articles from Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories. These often didn’t even involve any opinion, only concise editorial and / or verified video footage reporting on verified facts and events. The platform’s opaque algorithms determine who gets heard and who gets buried, often for reasons as innocuous as being “too controversial” (i.e., saying anything that might ruffle a corporate sponsor’s feathers). Although, it does seem in the case of X, there aren’t many of those sponsor’s left. Turn’s out, Elon literally telling his advertisers to “Go fuck yourself”after his endorsement of an antisemitic post, wasn’t super conducive to keeping the few advertisers that he did hold on to after his acquisition of the platform. But when these platform's do worry about anything being too controversial and upsetting their sponsors, the result ends up being a very sanitized version of the internet. A version where only the blandest, least offensive content gets through, and anything resembling critical thought is quietly pushed to the fringes. In X’s case, a mass exodus of serious writers, bloggers, journalists and content providers and a swarm to platforms like Bluesky, Substack and Medium.

For others, busy dissecting the latest celebrity meltdown or obsessing over who got the rose, the world’s real problems are quietly slipping by unnoticed. Reality TV is the perfect distraction, precisely because it’s so low-maintenance. It demands nothing from us—no critical thinking, no emotional investment beyond the superficial, and certainly no action. And it’s not just TV. Social media, too, has perfected the art of distraction. Platforms like Instagram and Facebook offer us a curated version of reality, one where everything is beautiful, everyone is happy, and the world’s problems are just a swipe away. Even when we encounter something distressing—a protest, a war, a natural disaster—it’s all too easy to keep scrolling. The algorithm has learned that keeping us engaged is all about balance: a little bit of outrage followed by a lot of fluff.

The Illusion of Resistance: Why Protests Aren’t What They Used to Be?

Once upon a time, physical protests were the ultimate form of resistance. The civil rights movement, anti-war protests, the fall of the Berlin Wall—these were moments when people took to the streets, united by a common cause, and forced the world to pay attention. But in today’s hyper-connected world, protests have lost much of their bite. Sure, we can still gather en masse, but the impact isn’t what it used to be. Why? Because governments have learned how to manage dissent. Thanks to social media, protests are now easier to organize, but they’re also easier to ignore. A million people marching through the streets of London might look impressive, but if it’s just one trending hashtag among thousands, does it really matter? The 24-hour news cycle moves on quickly, and so do we. Even when protests do make headlines, they’re often reduced to soundbites and viral clips. The complexity of the issues at hand gets lost in the noise, and the narrative becomes about the protest itself rather than the cause behind it. Meanwhile, governments and corporations have become experts at waiting out the storm, knowing that today’s outrage will be tomorrow’s forgotten trend.

TikTok has now evolved into a space where real, raw footage of the world’s harshest realities can spread like wildfire. And it’s doing something that other platforms have failed to do: it’s breaking through the noise. TikTok has become a haven for those who want to share stories and footage that mainstream media either ignores or outright censors. Videos of protests, police brutality, and life in conflict zones like Gaza are uploaded in real-time, offering a glimpse into the lives of people whose voices are often silenced. These clips, sometimes only 30 seconds long, have the power to shape public perception in a way that a thousand carefully crafted news reports never could. The truth is, TikTok is a threat precisely because it’s not playing by the same rules. Its algorithm, designed to push content that resonates on a visceral level, doesn’t cater to the powers that be. And that makes it a problem—because when people start seeing the world as it really is, it becomes a lot harder to maintain the illusion that everything’s just fine.

How to Break the Cycle

So, what’s the solution? How do we stop ourselves from slipping further into this collective apathy? The first step is to reconnect with what actually matters. That means unplugging from the noise and focusing on real, tangible actions. Instead of getting lost in the digital ether, consider supporting organizations that are on the ground making a difference. And if you’re going to protest, do it in a way that can’t be easily ignored—whether that’s by showing up in person or by using your platform to amplify voices that are being silenced.

We also need to reclaim our media. Start demanding better from the content you consume. Support investigative journalism that challenges power rather than panders to it. It might require some effort, but hey, think of it as your civic duty, a small price to pay to keep society from devolving into a dystopian reality show.

In the end, staying calm in the face of chaos isn’t about indifference, it’s about focus. It’s about choosing to care in a world that’s trying very hard to make you stop. And if enough of us make that choice, maybe, just maybe, we can start to turn things around.

So, congrats on staying calm, but don’t let that calm turn into complacency. The world may be a mess, but it’s our mess. And if we don’t start cleaning it up, no one else will.

Moving Beyond Indifference: How We Can Make a Difference?

So, where does this leave us? In a world where distractions are endless, protests are increasingly ineffective, and even our platforms for truth are under threat, it’s easy to feel powerless. But here’s the thing: indifference is a choice, and so is action. The first step is recognizing the power we still have. Just because protests aren’t what they used to be, doesn’t mean they’re pointless. They’re still a vital way to show solidarity and raise awareness, even if the results aren’t immediate. But we need to think beyond the march. Support organizations that are doing the hard work on the ground, whether they’re providing aid in conflict zones, fighting for human rights, or holding governments accountable. We also need to reclaim our attention. That means being conscious of the content we consume and questioning the narratives we’re fed.

Platforms like TikTok have shown us that the truth can spread, but it’s up to us to seek it out, share it, and amplify the voices that need to be heard. And finally, we need to demand better from our leaders, and from ourselves. It’s easy to become cynical, to believe that nothing will change, but that’s exactly what those in power are counting on. The more we disengage, the more they get away with. So speak up, vote, and keep the pressure on. Because the world might be chaotic, but it’s still ours to shape.

In the end, staying calm in the face of chaos isn’t a superpower, it’s a failure. A failure to care, a failure to act, and a failure to live up to our own potential. But it doesn’t have to be this way. The world is full of noise, but somewhere in that noise is the sound of change. The question is: are we willing to listen?

---

All my work is free, but Coffee fuels me.