There’s a special type of person. On the surface, they seem successful, confident, sometimes even generous. They have yachts, KPIs, business plans. They say all the right things: “I’m just rational,” “I’m not a fanatic,” “I rely on facts.” But if you look deeper, you’ll see — it’s not about reason. It’s a protective layer. It’s armor, hiding the most important thing: they’ve already sold out to the system.
These people aren’t stupid. But they’ve built everything on surrender. They submitted. They accepted the rules of a game where a human is just a function, a bio-robot, a cog. Where there’s no morality, only calculation. Where everything that doesn’t fit into Excel is called “esotericism,” “nonsense,” or “fanaticism.” They chose to live in a box, but now pretend the box is reality itself.
They need a scientific gloss to justify their choice. That’s where Marxism comes in. It provides a supposedly scientific theory where you don’t need to believe in meaning, soul, or freedom. Everything is explained by classes, interests, and historical necessity. For someone who sold themselves to form, Marxism is the perfect moral excuse. They’re not greedy — they’re just following the laws of history. They’re not broken — they just “understand how the world works.” They didn’t betray anyone — they’re just rational.
But behind this “rationality” is deafening emptiness. No joy, no spark, just cynicism. Inside, there’s pain hidden behind schemes and calculations. Because if you admit that a person has a soul and the world has meaning, you have to admit that you once sold your own soul.
And that’s why they laugh at Popper. That’s why they call belief in meaning “fanaticism.” That’s why they shout about KPIs — because they’re afraid of silence. Because in silence, one question is heard: Are you even alive?
And the system? It will break. Because form is a shadow. But meaning is eternal.