This is the final installment of a series. Here are parts one and two if you missed them.
What’s happening?
At the time of my writing this, the number one world news story in our fast-moving media cycle is about the Pakistani rape gangs in the UK. This is something that has been ongoing since the 1980s and has victimized thousands. The UK’s law enforcement and politicians have been covering it up, arresting the victims rather than the perpetrators, and it’s only now coming to full view due to Elon Musk’s shining a light on these events.
When the story first broke, many headlines from Labour-sympathizing publications made the story about Musk’s rage rather than the systematic assault of children. The crime Elon was attacked for was not the harming of innocents, but speaking the truth. The very people who are angry at Musk just voted down an investigation into this horrible scandal—because the truth would destroy them.
The powers that be are so desperate to keep the truth away from their venerated empty ideas, they’ve turned to committing figurative and literal human sacrifice.
How did this happen?
It sounds unfathomable to most of us. How could the people of UK’s parliament and police force attack the truth tellers for trying to end such a horrible thing? How could the media get outraged at someone for discussing what they’ve neglected to report? Why were victims getting arrested?
Fear.
Poptarded morality lacks a clarity of purpose. In an age where “right” and “wrong” are treated like fictions in our zeitgeist, we are afraid to follow moral intuitions that conflict with the existing narratives.
But where does our moral reasoning come from in the first place?
A quick look into moral development
Lawrence Kohlberg was a psychologist who focused on moral development. He conducted his research by interviewing children and adolescents, asking them questions of morality and analyzing the reasoning processes that lead to their answers. Through these methods, he came to the conclusion that there are three main stages of moral development, broken up into a total of six substages.
Pre-Conventional Morality:
Obedience and Punishment Orientation (ages 3–7)
How do I avoid punishment?
I’ll obey the rules because I don’t want to get in trouble—rules are fixed and must be followed.
Self-Interest Orientation (ages 7–10)
What’s in it for me?
I’ll help him because he’ll help me later. I see fairness as an exchange of favors.
Conventional Morality:
Good Interpersonal Relationships (ages 10–16)
I want to be perceived as a good person.
I gave charity because I want others to think I’m kind and helpful.
Social Order (16 to adulthood)
I understand the importance of law and order.
I’ll drive within the speed limit because we all need to follow rules for society to function smoothly.
Post-Conventional Morality:
Social Contract Orientation (adulthood, but uncommon)
I think deeply about the world around me and question society’s norms.
I’ll follow rules if they promote justice, but I’ll challenge them if they don’t. Just because everyone says it doesn’t make it true.
Universal Ethical Principles (very rare in adults)
I understand that morality is higher than any one person, law, or society.
Even if I face obstacles or opposition, I’ll do the right thing because universal principles like justice and human dignity demand it.
Kohlberg believed that making it to post-conventional morality was a rarity amongst the population, most simply absorbing the conventions fed to them.
And that’s not inherently a bad thing—for a society with values.
A tale as old as time
We live in an age where people try to bend reality to fit their desired versions of the truth rather than living in accordance with what is. When we feel our version of reality is threatened by the truth, we lash out at the facts for rattling our comfortable fictions about ourselves and the world around us. This isn’t new, of course, and we constantly cycle in and out of varying levels of this paradigm, and have been doing this for all of history
Socrates was executed for the crime of prompting people to ask questions, think for themselves, and re-examine the status quo. Those in stations of power were so threatened by the mirror of truth held up by Socrates that they executed him.
In the Gospel of John, Jesus tells Pilate, “For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate just hits Jesus with the ol’ “What is truth?” and then promptly crucifies the man.
Truth tellers getting silenced by moral cowards is not new. The problem is that the truth is woven into the fabric of reality itself, and is indestructible—no amount of murder, legal action, or social ostracization is going to change that.
And it never will.
Today, in keeping up with long-standing tradition, the British government is targeting those who point out the corrupt thuggery that guides the country's leaders. The people are livid, the government is doubling down, and the media is complicit.
So what do we do?
Our best.
We need to be brave, fellas. Poptardation is not terminal, and we can choose to reverse it. If the average person is conventionally moral, and the morals are bankrupt, it’s up to the truth tellers to correct the course.
If you feel something is wrong and pursue the truth, share what you find. People may reject you—even revile you—but the world needs you. If we’re to reverse the moral decay, the lies, the rise of the sophists, we need to not only be informed but to inform others. And as the chorus of truths gets louder, societal conventions will follow.
Guys, those hiding behind falsehoods may throw slander, stones, or hemlock at you—and that’s their problem to deal with. Our job is to pursue the truth and the good because they’re just that. Nothing more is needed than wisdom backed by courage and informed by reasoned compassion.
If we unite and do our best, we can all leave the cave together.