The Psychopathocracy: How a Personality Disorder Captured Our World

By Andrew Klein 

A silent coup has taken place. The institutions that govern our lives—politics, commerce, and even religion—are increasingly not run by the most intelligent, the most compassionate, or the most wise. They are run by the most ruthless. We are living in the age of the Psychopathocracy: a system of governance and economics that not only tolerates psychopathic traits but actively rewards and promotes them.

This is not a metaphor. Clinical psychopathy, as defined by the Hare Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-R), is characterized by a constellation of traits: glibness and superficial charm, a grandiose sense of self-worth, pathological lying, a lack of remorse or guilt, callousness, and a failure to accept responsibility. While only an estimated 1% of the general population are clinical psychopaths, their representation in the upper echelons of corporate and political power is estimated to be significantly higher, with some studies suggesting it could be 3-4% in senior corporate roles, and even higher in certain financial sectors (Babiak & Hare, 2006).

The Perfect Storm: Neoliberalism as the Psychopath’s Playground

The rise of the Psychopathocracy is inextricably linked to the ideological dominance of neoliberalism. This economic model, which champions deregulation, privatization, and the supremacy of market logic above all else, is the perfect ecosystem for the psychopathic mind.

· Profit as the Sole Metric: Neoliberalism’s core tenet—that the only valid measure of success is profit and shareholder value—is a psychopath’s dream. It provides a moral alibi for callousness. Laying off thousands, destroying ecosystems, or exploiting workers is not seen as a moral failure but as “sound business sense.” It systematizes a lack of empathy.

· The Extraction Model: At its heart, neoliberalism is an extraction model. It does not seek to build, nurture, or sustain; it seeks to extract maximum value in the shortest time. This mirrors the psychopath’s modus operandi: they are extractors of social, emotional, and financial resources from others, leaving depleted individuals and communities in their wake.

· The Individual as a Unit: By dismantling collective structures and promoting hyper-individualism, neoliberalism creates a world of atomized, competing units—a perfect hunting ground for a predator who feels no bonds of solidarity.

The Machinery of Ascendancy

How do these individuals rise to power? They are not stopped; they are actively groomed and promoted by systems that mistake their pathology for strength.

1. The LinkedIn Persona: Professional social networks like LinkedIn have become a stage for “corporate psychopathy.” The platform rewards grandiose, self-aggrandizing narratives, relentless optimism devoid of empathy, and a focus on “disruption” and “ruthless prioritization”—all traits that are celebrated as leadership qualities but are hallmarks of the psychopathic spectrum (Furnham, 2021).

2. The Academic Finishing School: Business schools and economics departments often teach a version of humanity that is a caricature: Homo economicus, a purely rational, self-interested actor. This provides a theoretical and “respectable” framework for psychopathic behaviour, giving it the language of game theory and market efficiency. They are given the intellectual tools to justify their innate lack of empathy.

3. The Political Gaslighter: In politics, the psychopath excels at gaslighting—a form of psychological manipulation aimed at making victims question their own reality. They lie with conviction, blame others for their failures, and create a fog of misinformation. In a media landscape built on spectacle, their glibness and shamelessness become assets, not liabilities.

The Engine of Theft: Fiat Currency and the Ultimate Game of Monopoly

The entire system is supercharged by its lifeblood: fiat currency. This “monopoly money,” detached from any tangible asset and created by private central banks, is the ultimate tool for abstraction and extraction.

· It allows for the accumulation of wealth that is completely divorced from the creation of real, tangible value.

· It enables the massive, debt-based wealth transfers from the public to the financial elite through mechanisms like quantitative easing.

· It is the scorecard in a game that is rigged from the start.

The children’s game Monopoly is a chillingly accurate allegory. The goal is not to build a better community, but to acquire all the assets, drive your opponents into bankruptcy, and be the last one standing. The Banker, who cannot lose, represents the central banking system that profits from the very debt that fuels the game. We are all unwilling players in a global game of Monopoly where the Psychopathocracy is closest to the Bank.

The Way Out

Recognizing the Psychopathocracy is the first step to dismantling it. We must:

· Reject the “Profit at All Costs” Paradigm: Champion new corporate and economic models that value stakeholder well-being, environmental sustainability, and ethical governance.

· Value Empathy as a Core Competency: In hiring, promotion, and especially in politics, we must actively select for empathy, integrity, and a sense of communal responsibility.

· Dismantle the Fiat Engine: Support the move towards more transparent, democratic, and localized monetary systems that serve people, not predators.

The Psychopathocracy is not an inevitability. It is a system we have built by mistaking pathology for power. It is a system we can, and must, tear down and replace with a world that rewards the builders, not the extractors; the carers, not the predators.

References:

· Babiak, P., & Hare, R. D. (2006). Snakes in Suits: When Psychopaths Go to Work. HarperCollins.

· Furnham, A. (2021). The Elephant in the Boardroom: The Causes of Leadership Failure. Palgrave Macmillan.

Published by The Unbroken Spine. Because a healthy society requires a moral backbone.

The Architecture of a Vassal: How US Bases in Australia Project Power, Not Protection

The strategic placement of key US and joint military facilities across Australia reveals a pattern not of national defence, but of integration into a global, offensively-oriented network for force projection and intelligence gathering. An analysis of their locations and functions demonstrates that these bases are designed to serve the strategic interests of a superpower, often at the expense of Australian sovereignty and security.

The Official Rationale: A Volatile Region and the Strategy of Denial

According to official Australian government assessments, the strategic environment is increasingly volatile, characterised by falling international cooperation, rising competition, and uncertainty about US reliability. In response, Australia’s National Defence Strategy: 2024 has adopted a “strategy of denial,” emphasising deterrence as its primary objective. This policy shift is used to justify initiatives such as:

· Acquiring nuclear-powered submarines through AUKUS.

· Upgrading and expanding northern military bases.

· Acquiring new long-range strike capabilities.

The public-facing logic is that longer-range weapons have overturned Australia’s geographic advantage, making the “sea-air gap” to the north a vulnerability. However, a closer examination of the specific facilities tells a different story.

Pine Gap: The Beating Heart of Global Surveillance

The Joint Defence Facility Pine Gap, near Alice Springs, is the most prominent example. Ostensibly a joint facility, it is a critical node in US global intelligence. Its functions extend far beyond any defensive mandate for Australia.

· Global Signals Intelligence: Pine Gap acts as a ground control and processing station for US geosynchronous signals intelligence (SIGINT) satellites. These satellites monitor a vast swath of the Eastern Hemisphere, collecting data including missile telemetry, anti-aircraft radar signals, and communications from mobile phones and microwave transmissions.

· Warfighting and Targeted Killing: Information from Pine Gap is not merely for analysis. It is used to geolocate targets for military action. The base has played a direct role in US drone strikes and has provided intelligence in conflicts from Vietnam and the Gulf War to the ongoing wars in Gaza. Experts testify that data downlinked at Pine Gap is passed to the US National Security Agency and then to allies like the Israel Defense Forces, potentially implicating Australia in international conflicts without public knowledge or parliamentary oversight.

· A History of Secrecy and Sovereignty Betrayed: The base’s history is marked by breaches of Australian sovereignty. During the 1973 Yom Kippur War, the US government placed Pine Gap on nuclear alert (DEFCON 3) without informing Australian Prime Minister Gough Whitlam. Whitlam’s subsequent consideration of closing the base was followed by his dramatic dismissal in 1975, an event that former CIA officers have linked to US fears over losing access to the facility.

Northern Bases: Launchpads for Power Projection

The network of bases across Australia’s north forms an arc designed for forward operations, not homeland defence.

· RAAF Base Tindal: This base in the Northern Territory is undergoing upgrades to host US B-52 strategic bombers. This transformation turns Australian territory into a forward operating location for long-range strike missions deep into Asia, fundamentally changing the nation’s role from a sovereign state to a launching pad for another power’s offensive operations.

· Marine Rotational Force – Darwin: The stationing of up to 2,500 US Marines in Darwin functions as a persistent force projection and logistics hub, enhancing the US ability to rapidly deploy forces into the Southeast Asian region.

· NW Cape (Harold E. Holt): The facility in Exmouth, Western Australia, hosts advanced space radar and telescopes for “space situational awareness.” This contributes to US space warfare and communications capabilities, a global mission with little direct relation to the defence of Australia’s population centres.

The True Cost: Compromised Sovereignty and Incurred Risk

This integration into a superpower’s military apparatus comes with severe, often unacknowledged, costs.

· The Loss of Sovereign Control: The operational control of these critical facilities is often ceded to the United States. At Pine Gap, the chief of the facility is a senior CIA officer, and certain sections, such as the NSA’s cryptology room, are off-limits to Australian personnel. This creates a situation where activities conducted on Australian soil are not fully known or controlled by the Australian government.

· Becoming a Nuclear Target: The critical importance of bases like Pine Gap to US global military dominance makes them high-priority targets in the event of a major conflict. By hosting these facilities, Australia voluntarily assumes the risk of being drawn into a nuclear exchange, a strategic decision made without public debate.

· Complicity in International Conflicts: As the protests and legal actions surrounding Pine Gap’s role in Gaza highlight, Australia faces legal and moral accusations of complicity in actions that may constitute war crimes or genocide. This places the nation in direct opposition to international law and global public opinion, all for the sake of an alliance that often prioritises US interests.

Conclusion: From Independent Ally to Integrated Base

The evidence is clear: the strategic network of US-linked bases in Australia is not primarily for the nation’s defence. It is the architecture of a vassal state, designed to service the global force projection and intelligence-gathering needs of a superpower. From the satellite surveillance of Pine Gap to the bomber forward deployment at Tindal, these facilities entangle Australia in conflicts far beyond its shores, compromise its sovereignty, and incur immense strategic risks. Until this fundamental reality is confronted, Australian defence policy will continue to serve an empire’s interests, not its own.

References

1. Parliamentary Library of Australia. (2024). Australia’s defence strategy adjusts to an increasingly volatile regional environment. Retrieved from https://www.aph.gov.au/About_Parliament/Parliamentary_departments/Parliamentary_Library/Research/Issues_and_Insights/48th_Parliament/regional-defence

2. Wikipedia. (2024). Pine Gap. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pine_Gap

3. C4ISRNET. (2022). US Army forming ‘offensively oriented’ curriculum to spur cyber skills. Retrieved from https://www.c4isrnet.com/cyber/2022/08/17/us-army-forging-offensively-oriented-course-to-boost-cyber-skills/

4. U.S. Government Publishing Office. (2024). The Evolution of the U.S. Intelligence Community-An Historical Overview. Retrieved from https://www.govinfo.gov/content/pkg/GPO-INTELLIGENCE/html/int022.html

5. Wikipedia. (2024). Lists of military installations. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lists_of_military_installations

6. The Guardian. (2025). A remote spy base and a ‘criminal’ blockade raise questions about Australia’s complicity in Gaza war. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/oct/27/pine-gap-protests-spy-base-gaza-war-australia-complicity

The Universal Folly: Deconstructing the Myth of Supremacy

By Andrew Klein 

A recurring ghost haunts the corridors of human history. It is a ghost that wears many masks—racial, religious, national, ideological—but beneath them all, it whispers the same corrosive lie: “We are better than them.”

This belief in group supremacy is, as one observer rightly noted, among the most idiotic of all belief systems. It is also the most dangerous. To see this pattern only in today’s designated villains—be they the citizens of Israel, India, or any other group—is to miss the point entirely. The disease is universal. The symptoms flare up in every nation, every culture, and every era, from the ancient empires that called their neighbours “barbarians” to the modern genocides of the 20th and 21st centuries.

This is not an issue of one people against another. It is a flawed human narrative against humanity itself.

The Deconstruction: Why Supremacy is a Delusion

The idea of racial or religious supremacy is a psychological and political construct, not a biological or spiritual reality. It is a story told to serve a purpose, built on three fundamental fallacies:

1. The Fallacy of the Monolith: It treats vast, diverse populations of individuals as a single, uniform entity. To say “Group X is superior” is to erase the millions of unique lives, thoughts, and moral choices within that group. It is a lazy fiction that ignores humanity in favour of a caricature.

2. The Fallacy of Inherent Value: It confuses cultural difference with inherent worth. A different skin colour, a different set of rituals, a different historical narrative—none of these things have any bearing on the fundamental value of a human soul. The belief that they do is a non-sequitur of the highest order.

3. The Fallacy of Static Identity: It assumes that the achievements or failures of a group in a specific historical moment are permanent and inherent, rather than the complex product of circumstance, geography, resource distribution, and luck.

The Allure of the Poison: Why Leaders Peddle It and Followers Drink It

This narrative persists not because it is true, but because it is useful to those in power and comforting to those who feel powerless.

· For the Political/Religious Leader: It is the ultimate tool of control.

  · Unification Through an Enemy: Nothing binds a group together faster than a common enemy. Identifying an “other” to fear and hate is a shortcut to solidarity, distracting from internal failures, corruption, or inequality.

  · Justification for Expansion and Theft: Land, resources, and power can be taken more easily if the people they are taken from are first defined as subhuman or unworthy.

  · A Substitute for Good Governance: It is easier to tell people they are inherently great than to build a society that actually is great—with justice, education, and opportunity for all.

· For the Follower: It offers a dangerous comfort.

  · A Sense of Belonging and Purpose: In a complex and often frightening world, being part of a “chosen” or “superior” group provides a simple, powerful identity.

  · An Alibi for Failure: Personal or societal shortcomings can be blamed on a scapegoat—the “other” who is supposedly holding the group back. This removes the burden of self-reflection and responsibility.

  · A Cheap Sense of Esteem: Without having to achieve anything through effort, compassion, or creativity, one can feel a sense of pride and superiority simply by belonging to a particular group.

The Inevitable Harvest: Harm to the Believer and the Victim

The pursuit of supremacy is a suicide pact. It inevitably destroys both the hunter and the hunted.

· For the Victim: The harm is obvious: persecution, violence, displacement, and death. Their humanity is denied, their rights are stripped, and their lives are deemed expendable.

· For the Believer: The harm is more insidious but just as real.

  · Moral and Spiritual Atrophy: To dehumanize others is to dehumanize oneself. It shrinks the soul, killing empathy and closing the mind to the beauty and wisdom of other cultures.

  · Intellectual Stagnation: A belief in inherent superiority eliminates the need to learn, adapt, or self-improve. Why learn from those you consider inferior?

  · The Cycle of Paranoia: A worldview built on supremacy is inherently fragile. It must be constantly defended, leading to a state of perpetual fear and aggression. The “superior” group becomes a prison for its members, who live in constant dread of being overtaken by the very “inferiors” they claim to despise.

An Alternative Path: From Supremacy to Shared Humanity

Breaking this cycle requires conscious effort. We must replace the destructive narrative with a life-affirming one.

1. Cultivate Radical Empathy: Make a conscious effort to see the world through the eyes of others. Consume their art, read their literature, and listen to their stories. You will find the same hopes, fears, and loves that reside in you.

2. Celebrate Individuality, Not Just Identity: Judge people by their character and their actions, not by the group they were born into. Honour the individual spirit that transcends tribal labels.

3. Embrace a Mature Identity: It is possible to love your own culture, heritage, or faith without needing to believe it is superior to all others. A strong identity is confident enough to acknowledge its own flaws and learn from others.

4. Follow Leaders Who Build, Not Divide: Be deeply suspicious of any leader who offers you an enemy as a solution to your problems. Support those who speak of shared challenges, common ground, and building a better world for all who live in it.

The belief in supremacy is a primitive relic. It is a story we have told ourselves for millennia, and it has brought us nothing but rivers of blood and mountains of sorrow. The next chapter of humanity must be written in a different language—the language of our shared, fragile, and magnificent humanity. Our survival depends on it.

The Performance of Principle: How ‘Moral Clarity’ Became the Slogan of the Unethical

In the theatre of modern politics, few lines are delivered with more gravitas than the demand for “moral clarity.” It resounds from the podiums of Western powers, a phrase used to justify military action, condemn adversaries, and silence dissent. Yet, a closer examination reveals a disturbing pattern: the loudest demands for moral clarity often come from those whose actions demonstrate a profound moral vacuum. The phrase has become less a philosophical stance and more a performative tool, used to thin the meaning of morality into obscurity and enable the very worst of amoral behavior.

From Philosophical Ideal to Political Cudgel

The term “moral clarity” did not originate as a hollow slogan. In its ideal form, it represents a clear-eyed understanding of right and wrong. However, its modern political usage was heavily popularized by figures like American conservative William J. Bennett in his 2002 book, Why We Fight: Moral Clarity and the War on Terrorism. Here, it was framed as an anti-communist and later anti-terrorist imperative, painting complex global conflicts as simple, binary battles between good and evil.

This framing is intentional and dangerous. It eliminates nuance, disregards history, and dismisses any mitigating circumstances as mere “moral relativism.” The goal is not to engage in ethical reasoning but to declare one’s own side inherently virtuous and the opponent inherently evil. This creates a permission structure for any action, no matter how brutal, because it is undertaken by the “good” side.

The Great Reversal: A Slogan for All Tribes

In a striking rhetorical shift, the language of “moral clarity” has been adopted across the political spectrum. While once the domain of hawkish conservatives, it is now wielded by progressives to condemn the policies of figures like Donald Trump, framing his actions as authoritarian or racist.

This migration proves the phrase’s potency as a weapon rather than a principle. It is no longer tied to a specific ideology but to a strategy—the strategy of ending debate by claiming the moral high ground. Whether it is used to demand unwavering support for a military campaign or to justify radical domestic policies, the effect is the same: it short-circuits critical thought. As analysts have noted, the phrase often functions as a “thought-terminating cliché,” a term coined by psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton to describe a slogan used to quell cognitive dissonance and dismiss complex questions.

The Israeli-Palestinian Context: A Case Study in Performative Clarity

Nowhere is the performance of “moral clarity” more glaring than in the context of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Supporters of the Israeli government’s actions frequently invoke the term, positioning the state as a bastion of democracy fighting a pure evil in Hamas. This narrative demands a clarity that erases the lives, history, and humanity of the Palestinian people. It dismisses the documented humanitarian catastrophe, the mounting death toll, and the accusations of genocide as irrelevant details that obscure the “core” moral truth.

This is not morality; it is moral branding. It is a public performance designed to thin the value of morality to a single, usable slogan. By insisting on a simplistic good-versus-evil framework, it allows the speaker to skirt the edges of the immoral while feeling perfectly righteous.

The Trumpian Parallel: Clarity as a Shield for Corruption

The phenomenon is mirrored in the United States. As politicians who support Donald Trump demand “moral clarity” from their opponents, they simultaneously defend or ignore threats to the rule of law, including the former president’s own statements about executing lawmakers or refusing to follow lawful orders. This creates a bizarre duality where the language of high morality is used to enable profoundly amoral behavior.

This is the ultimate insidiousness of the phrase. It allows a movement to engage in the very corruption it purports to oppose, all while wearing the mask of virtue. The private space, where dubious morals reside, is seamlessly connected to the public space, where the language of righteousness is used to recruit others into a project of ethical erosion.

The True Path: Embracing Moral Complexity

The antidote to the poison of “moral clarity” is not moral confusion, but moral complexity. True ethical reasoning is unglamorous and difficult. It requires the labor of distinguishing between competing values, weighing consequences, and listening to opposing viewpoints. It is allied with the philosophical tradition of thinkers like Isaiah Berlin, who acknowledged that hard conflicts often involve multiple, compelling moral demands that cannot be resolved by a simple slogan.

This commitment to complexity is what the performers of “moral clarity” fear most. It is harder to market, impossible to reduce to a chant, and refuses to provide easy answers. But it is the only form of morality robust enough to navigate the real world. It insists that we can—and must—hold multiple truths at once: that one can condemn terrorism and a military response that constitutes collective punishment; that one can believe in law and order and also condemn its weaponization.

To those who shout “moral clarity,” we must respond with a call for moral courage—the courage to face the world in all its messy, contradictory, and difficult reality, and to do the hard work of building a justice that is nuanced, lasting, and truly humane.

The Unheard Blueprint: How African Human Rights Law Redefines Our Global Obligations

By Andrew Klein 

The dominant global narrative on human rights has been predominantly shaped by a Western paradigm, one that powerfully champions individual liberty but often sidelines communal responsibility. This paradigm is epitomized by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), a monumental achievement born from the ashes of World War II which establishes a common standard of fundamental freedoms for all people. Its power lies in its uncompromising defence of the individual against the state, articulating a comprehensive list of rights—to life, liberty, fair trial, and property—and setting a global benchmark for individual dignity.

Meanwhile, a revolutionary and more holistic framework has been developing for decades, one that intrinsically links rights with duties and balances individual freedoms with collective well-being: the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (the Banjul Charter). Adopted in 1981 by the Organisation of African Unity (OAU), this Charter was consciously crafted to reflect African philosophical traditions, which often emphasize community solidarity and collective rights as fundamental to human dignity. Its very structure is a radical departure, built not on a single pillar of individual rights, but on three integrated pillars: human rights, peoples’ rights, and individual duties.

The philosophical chasm between these two documents is vast. The UDHR, rooted in Western liberalism and individualism, views the person primarily as a rights-bearing entity. In contrast, the Banjul Charter, grounded in African communalism and the Ubuntu philosophy of “I am because we are,” views a person as a member of a community with inherent rights and responsibilities. This is not a secondary thought but the Charter’s operational core. Its preamble explicitly states that the “enjoyment of rights and freedoms also implies the performance of duties on the part of everyone.”

This framework of duty is legally codified and specific. Article 27 of the Charter establishes that “Every individual shall have duties towards his family and society, the State and other legally recognised communities and the international community.” Article 29 powerfully elaborates on these duties, which include the duty to serve the national community, to preserve and strengthen African cultural values, to contribute to the well-being of society, and to work and pay taxes. This represents one of the Charter’s key innovations: establishing enforceable duties alongside rights.

Furthermore, the Charter introduces a groundbreaking concept largely absent from the UDHR: peoples’ rights. These are collective or “third-generation” rights, such as the right of a people to self-determination, to freely dispose of their wealth and natural resources, to their economic, social, and cultural development, and to a general satisfactory environment. This acknowledges that the dignity of the individual is inextricably linked to the health and sovereignty of the community to which they belong.

This is not a historical relic but a living, though often challenged, body of law. The African Union (AU), the OAU’s successor, continues to operationalize these principles. However, the system faces significant tests, with analysts noting a persistent “lack of genuine and sustained political will” that hinders its ability to effectively respond to crises and uphold its progressive ideals on the ground.

For our work at ‘The Patrician’s Watch’ , this contrast is not merely academic; it is civilizational. The Western model, for all its virtues, can be easily co-opted by the “extraction economic system” we have previously dissected. A system that prioritizes individual rights without corresponding duties fosters an entitlement culture without a foundation of contribution, weakens social bonds, and treats individuals as isolated consumers, making them more vulnerable to exploitation. It creates a vacuum of responsibility that allows power to be wielded without accountability.

The African Charter offers a profound corrective. It provides a legal and philosophical language for the “I-Thou” relationship at a societal level. It understands that a family, a community, or a nation cannot thrive if its members only assert what is theirs by right without also honouring what they owe by duty. By bringing this African understanding to the forefront, we do more than expand human rights discourse; we provide a tool for its repair and a vision for a world where liberty and obligation are once again understood as the inseparable halves of a single, sacred whole.

From Rights to Responsibilities: The Unfulfilled Promise of Human Duties

By Andrew Klein 

The Premise: A World Built on Obligations

“Had the Declaration of Human Rights been a Declaration of Human Obligations. Ruthlessly enforced against individual politician’s, we might actually have seen a much more peaceful world and wasted less time producing pointless research papers of belly gazing discourse.”

In the decades since the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) was proclaimed in 1948, its 30 articles have become the moral compass of the international community. It is a monumental achievement, born from the ashes of global war, articulating for the first time a shared standard of fundamental freedoms for all people. Yet, amidst the undeniable progress, a persistent question lingers: has something been missing? A compelling argument emerges that had the foundation been a Declaration of Human Obligations, ruthlessly enforced against those in power, we might have built a more peaceful and accountable world. This is not a call to discard rights, but to complete them with a robust and enforceable framework of duties, a concept that has simmered at the margins of international law for decades.

The Existing Blueprint: The Valencia Declaration of 1998

The intuition that duties are the missing link is not merely theoretical. In 1998, to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the UDHR, a group of Nobel laureates, scientists, and philosophers under the auspices of UNESCO proclaimed the Declaration of Human Duties and Responsibilities (DHDR), also known as the Valencia Declaration. This document was conceived precisely out of a “shared concern regarding the lack of political will for enforcing globally human rights” and aimed to translate the semantics of rights into the practical language of duties.

The DHDR’s architects, including figures like South African Justice Richard Goldstone, argued that the recognition of human rights is insufficient if they are not enforceable. There must be, in their view, “a duty on all relevant authorities and individuals to enforce those rights” . The declaration meticulously outlines a system of duties, defining a “duty” as an ethical obligation and a “responsibility” as one that is legally binding. It identifies a wide range of duty-bearers, extending beyond states to include international organizations, corporations, and individuals taken collectively. This broader attribution of responsibility was a deliberate move to close the accountability gaps that powerful non-state actors often exploit.

The Enforcement Gap: Knowledge and Capacity Without Will

The existence of the DHDR proves the concept is sound. Yet, its lack of widespread adoption reveals the core obstacle: a deficit of political commitment. As one UN analysis acknowledges, while knowledge and technical capacity are essential, they “will not suffice where a government lacks the political commitment to hold perpetrators… accountable” . This is the crux of the matter. We have the tools—international courts, commissions of inquiry, and legal frameworks—but they are too often neutralized by a lack of political will.

The mechanisms for accountability are well-established and revolve around three interlinked rights: the right to truth, the right to justice, and the right to an effective remedy and reparation. When these are pursued seriously, as in South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, they can lay a foundation for sustainable peace. However, as scholars from Harvard’s Carr Center for Human Rights note, the human rights movement “will always register many more shortfalls than achievements, but it would miss its purpose if it did not” . The system is designed to highlight failure, but without the relentless enforcement your premise calls for, these shortfalls become a permanent condition.

Concrete Duties: From Principle to Practice

What would a ruthless enforcement of obligations look like in practice? The DHDR provides specific, actionable examples that move beyond abstract ideals:

· The Duty to Protect Life and Ensure Survival: This extends to taking “reasonable steps to help others whose lives are threatened,” and includes a profound intergenerational responsibility to ensure the survival of future generations, a concept championed by then-UNESCO Director-General Federico Mayor.

· The Duty to Intervene to Prevent Gross Violations: Article 6 of the DHDR explicitly states the duty to prevent genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes, noting a “collective duty of the States to intervene” when one state fails in its primary responsibility. This directly addresses the kind of international inaction that has allowed atrocities to continue in various conflict zones.

· The Duty to Promote an Equitable International Order: This duty, found in Article 10, cautions that “Economic policies and development should not be pursued at the expense of human rights or social development” . This is a clear, obligation-focused standard against which the policies of governments and international financial institutions could be measured.

The Path Not Yet Taken

The vision is one where the powerful are held to account, where the discourse of community and mutual obligation supersedes a purely individualistic claim to rights. The evidence suggests that the premise is valid: a framework of enforced obligations would have provided a more direct and robust tool for building a just world. The DHDR exists as a testament to this very idea.

However, the question remains whether any document, no matter how well-conceived, can be “ruthlessly enforced” in a world of sovereign states and competing interests. The challenge is not a lack of ideas, but a deficit of collective courage. As one human rights defender from Russia poignantly warns, “Violence never stays inside… it will spread far beyond… when authoritarian states feel they will go unpunished” .

The transition from a culture of rights to a culture of responsibilities is the great unfinished work of the human rights project. I

 The path to a more peaceful world indeed lies in completing the architecture of rights with the foundation of enforced obligations.

The Unstable Foundation: How Apartheid and Oppression Foretell State Collapse

By Andrew Klein 

The Inevitable Cracks in a Foundation of Oppression

The modern political landscape is often viewed as a static arrangement of permanent nations. However, history teaches a different lesson: states are not eternal. They are constructs whose longevity depends on legitimacy, justice, and the consent of the governed. When a state bases its existence on the systematic oppression of a large population under its control, it sows the seeds of its own demise. No matter how well-armed or trained its population, a state committing what international law defines as apartheid and acts of genocide forfeits its welcome in the community of nations and embarks on a path of internal decay and ultimate collapse. The ongoing catastrophe in Gaza and the entrenched system of control over Palestinians offer a contemporary case study of this historical truth, with chilling parallels to the fall of ancient Sparta and the demise of apartheid South Africa.

The Spartan Precedent: How Military Might Alone Is Not Enough

The story of ancient Sparta is a powerful testament to the fact that even the most fearsome military machine cannot sustain a state built on internal contradictions. Sparta’s society was meticulously engineered to produce history’s most formidable warriors, yet its decline was triggered by a combination of internal rigidity, economic fragility, and strategic overreach.

Sparta’s power was entirely dependent on a subjugated population known as the Helots, who vastly outnumbered the Spartan citizenry and were kept in a state of servitude to fuel the Spartan war machine. This created a permanent internal security crisis. After its victory in the Peloponnesian War, Sparta’s hegemony was challenged by a coalition of former allies. The definitive blow came at the Battle of Leuctra in 371 BC, where the Theban general Epaminondas employed innovative tactics to shatter the myth of Spartan invincibility. Following this defeat, Thebes invaded Spartan territory and liberated the Messenian Helots, removing the very economic foundation of the Spartan state. Compounding this, the influx of wealth from its empire corrupted Sparta’s austere social structure, while its restrictive citizenship laws led to a critical decline in the number of full citizen-soldiers, hollowing out its core military institution from within. Sparta’s fate illustrates a universal principle: a state that relies on the subjugation of a large population is inherently unstable. Its military power, however formidable, becomes a brittle shell, vulnerable to a single decisive defeat and incapable of adapting to a changing world.

The Apartheid Framework: A Legal and Moral Diagnosis

The term “apartheid” has evolved from describing a specific South African policy to being a defined crime against humanity under international law. The International Convention on the Suppression and Punishment of the Crime of Apartheid (1973) and the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (2002) define it as an “institutionalized regime of systematic oppression and domination by one racial group over any other” committed with the intention of maintaining that regime. This is not a casual accusation but a precise legal designation for a state’s structure and policies.

In recent proceedings at the International Court of Justice (ICJ), a significant number of states have argued that Israel’s policies and practices in the occupied territories amount to apartheid. This claim is supported by detailed reports from major human rights organizations and has even been acknowledged by prominent Israeli figures. This legal and moral diagnosis is critical because it moves the discussion beyond individual battles or policies to the fundamental nature of the state’s structure.

The South African Lesson: Isolation and the Inevitability of Change

The collapse of apartheid South Africa provides a modern blueprint for how oppressive states meet their end. The South African regime, a minority government enforcing a formal system of racial segregation and domination, was ultimately brought down by a combination of internal resistance and, crucially, intensifying external pressure.

The United Nations led a global campaign that isolated the Pretoria regime. This included calls for diplomatic and trade sanctions, a sporting boycott, and the establishment of a UN Special Committee Against Apartheid to coordinate international efforts. This isolation had a devastating impact on the South African economy and morale. As the global anti-apartheid movement grew, the South African state was progressively delegitimized. It became a pariah, its founding ideology condemned as racist and criminal by the international community. This moral standing empowered internal resistance movements like the African National Congress (ANC). As the regime felt itself cornered, it became more violently aggressive, staging military interventions and destabilizing its neighbors. This overextension drained its resources, strengthened regional opposition, and further exposed its brutality to the world, accelerating its collapse. The South African case demonstrates that no state can survive indefinitely as an international pariah. When the cost of maintaining oppression becomes too high—both economically and in terms of global standing—the system becomes untenable.

The Israeli Trajectory: From Apartheid to Ultra-Apartheid?

Drawing on these historical parallels, the trajectory of the Israeli state appears to be following a dangerous and familiar path. Analysts like Dan Steinbock argue that Israel has moved beyond the model of classic South African apartheid into what might be termed “ultra-apartheid”. While the South African system sought to exploit a Black labour force, the Israeli system’s ultimate objective appears to be the Judaization of territory and the dispossession of the Palestinian population, using segregation as an instrument for displacement and , as witnessed in Gaza, potential obliteration.

The foundations of control across these historical examples reveal a pattern of systemic oppression. Ancient Sparta was built on the subjugation of the Helot population. Apartheid South Africa was founded on a formal legal system of racial segregation. The case against the contemporary Israeli state, as presented before the ICJ, is that it is based on military occupation and a system of institutionalized discrimination described as apartheid by many states and human rights groups.

Their economic models further illustrate this trajectory. Sparta’s economy was one of dependence on exploited Helot labour. Apartheid South Africa, while oppressive, was built on the exploitation of Black labour, and relative Black income actually grew during the latter years of the system. In contrast, the situation for Palestinians is one of separation and dependency, with Palestinian income relative to Israelis falling to a level below that of Black South Africans at the end of apartheid, indicating a potentially more severe economic disenfranchisement.

On the international stage, their positions have followed a similar path toward isolation. Sparta maintained a hegemony over Greek city-states until its defeat. Apartheid South Africa became an international pariah state, subject to sanctions and global boycott movements. Today, Israel is facing increasing delegitimization, with cases before the ICJ and ICC, and the rapid growth of global solidarity movements like BDS.

The ultimate objectives of these systems, while different in their specifics, all point toward maintaining domination. For Sparta, it was to maintain Spartan dominance and the Helot system. For apartheid South Africa, it was to maintain white minority rule and racial segregation. According to some analysts, the objective of the current Israeli system is territorial control and demographic change through displacement and settlement. All three systems were plagued by the same internal security dilemma: a constant fear of revolt from the subjugated population, requiring permanent vigilance and military force that ultimately drained the state’s vitality and resources.

This pattern is not mere speculation. The current Israeli government, a coalition formed with parties explicitly committed to settlement expansion, finds itself unable to curb settler violence because its very political existence depends on the ideology that drives that violence. This mirrors the internal paralysis of decaying states throughout history. Furthermore, its aggressive actions in Gaza and the region resemble the violent overextension of cornered regimes like apartheid South Africa, a sign not of strength but of profound crisis.

Conclusion: The Path Ahead

The precedents are clear. States that build their foundations on the oppression of another people may project an image of permanence and power, but they are inherently fragile. The fall of Sparta and the collapse of apartheid South Africa demonstrate that military prowess and internal control are no match for the combined forces of internal resistance, moral delegitimization, and sustained international pressure.

The ongoing genocide in Gaza is not happening in a vacuum; it is the most acute symptom of a deeper systemic failure. For the state of Israel, the path to long-term survival and security does not lie in further militarization and oppression. It lies in the dismantling of the apartheid structures that govern the lives of millions of Palestinians and the embrace of a future built on equality and justice for all people under its control. Without this fundamental shift, the historical record suggests that the collapse of the current state structure is not a matter of if, but when. The world is watching, and history is judging.

The Great Extraction: How War Was Transformed from a Necessity into a Business Model

By Andrew & Gabriel Klein

A ghost haunts our global politics, our economic systems, and our decaying public squares. It is the ghost of the absentee landlord, a global elite that views the world as an estate to be managed for maximum extraction, with minimal responsibility for the human cost. Nowhere is this more evident than in the evolution of war, which has been systematically transformed from a matter of survival into a sophisticated, perpetual engine of profit.

To understand how we arrived here, we must first diagnose the spiritual sickness at its core: what philosopher Martin Buber called the “I-It” relationship. This is the mode of engagement where we treat the world, other people, and even ourselves as objects, instruments, or means to an end. The alternative is the “I-Thou” relationship—a genuine encounter based on mutual recognition and inherent worth. The modern war machine is the ultimate expression of the I-It relationship, scaled to a global, murderous degree.

From Feudal Obligation to the Nation in Arms

For most of human history, war was a limited affair. A king or lord fought with a small professional class of warriors, constrained by the gold in his treasury and the need for his subjects to plant and harvest crops. The spoils were tangible: land, plunder, and tribute.

This model was shattered by the French Revolution and Napoleon. The levée en masse—the first mass conscription—declared that the entire nation was the army. This was the birth of the potent and deadly ideology of nationalism. To make this palatable, the state had to be sold as the ultimate object of devotion. The flag, the anthem, and a mythologized history became sacred symbols, creating an “imagined community.” A farmer was persuaded he shared a common destiny with an industrialist he would never meet, and that he should die for an abstract entity called the “fatherland.” This loyalty was a one-way covenant: the citizen owed everything, including their life, to the state, which offered in return only a vague promise of future glory.

Breaking the Bank: Fiat Currency and the Infinite War

The single greatest enabler of modern, total war was a financial revolution: the abandonment of the Gold Standard for Fiat Currency.

Previously, a ruler’s ability to wage war was limited by his reserves of gold and silver. Fiat currency—money backed by government decree rather than a physical commodity—shattered this constraint. Governments learned they could create money out of thin air to pay for war, financing conflict through massive deficit spending and inflation. The limits were no longer tangible, but political. Wars could now be fought for years, draining the real wealth—the lives, labor, and resources—of a nation, while the financial elite profited from the lending and industrial production. The citizen became the resource: the cannon fodder, the taxpayer, and the consumer of the debt.

The American Civil War: A Blueprint for Extraction

The American Civil War was the first full demonstration of this new, industrial model of warfare. It was not a war of professional armies, but a total war of attrition, mobilizing entire economies to destroy the enemy’s capacity to fight.

The Northern victory, driven by superior industrial and financial might, provided a chilling blueprint for the global elite. It showed that a modern state could leverage its entire economic system to crush an alternative model (in this case, the agrarian South) and open vast new territories for economic exploitation. The “Reconstruction” that followed was less about healing and more about systematic economic subjugation—a perfect model for neoliberal extractive practices that would follow in the next century.

The 20th Century: The Business Model is Perfected

The World Wars cemented this system. The First World War was a senseless slaughter, funded by fiat currency and fueled by nationalism, where millions died for gains measured in yards of mud. The aftermath—the Great Depression—provided the final, brutal proof that the population never wins.

Even the “victorious” powers were left with shattered economies and a “lost generation.” The profits, however, flowed to the arms manufacturers, industrialists, and financiers who had funded the conflict. The ensuing “peace” was not for recovery, but to allow a new generation to grow up—to replenish the stock of human capital for the next conflict.

This is the modern, perpetual business model of war:

1. Manufacture Nationalism: Create a myth to ensure a supply of loyal citizens.

2. Leverage Fiat Finance: Use monetary systems to break natural financial constraints.

3. Mobilize Industry: Direct the industrial base to war production, generating immense corporate profits.

4. Engage in Attrition: Grind down the human and material resources of the enemy.

5. Reset in “Peace”: Impose economic policies that create the desperation and inequality that make the next generation willing to fight.

The Australian Case Study: AUKUS and the Theft of a Future

This is not an abstract problem. Look at Australia’s commitment to the AUKUS submarine program, with an estimated cost of A$368 billion over 30 years. While politicians speak of “jobs” and “security,” they are engaging in a massive wealth transfer. They are hijacking public taxes—funds needed for housing, healthcare, and cost-of-living relief—to funnel hundreds of billions to U.S. and U.K. defence giants.

This theft occurs while the United Nations estimates it would cost only $267 billion per year to end world hunger by 2030. The choice is not between security and charity; it is a choice between funding life or funding death. The poor in Australia suffer from this theft of their future, just as the poor in Gaza or Sudan suffer from direct bombardment. The scale differs, but the underlying principle is identical.

The Path Forward: From I-It to I-Thou

The solution is a revolution in consciousness. It is the deliberate application of the Family Principle on a global scale. In a family, the strong protect the vulnerable, and no one is left to starve. We must:

· Name the Theft: Relentlessly juxtapose the cost of weapons with the cost of saving lives. Make the opportunity cost of every missile and submarine unbearably visible.

· Withdraw Consent: Organize mass, non-violent non-cooperation through tax resistance, divestment campaigns, and making support for these corrupt wealth transfers a political liability.

· Build Relational Networks: Create local systems of mutual aid and solidarity that operate on the I-Thou principle, making us resilient to the extractive system.

The dangerous simpletons in their gold castles believe their wealth insulates them. They are wrong. A world awakening to the fact that we are one family—that your starving child is my starving child—is a tide that will wash away every wall. The age of their impunity is over. The choice is no longer between left and right, but between a global family and a collective funeral pyre.

Feudal Obligation to the Industrial Meat Grinder

By Andrew Klein 

In the ancient and feudal model, war was a limited affair. A lord or king called upon vassals who owed him military service for a set period (often 40 days). Warfare was constrained by the logistics of the royal treasury and the agricultural calendar—soldiers had to return home for the harvest. The spoils of war—land, plunder—were tangible, and the fighting was often for immediate, tangible goals: defence of territory, or the expansion of a ruler’s personal domain.

The change began in earnest with the French Revolution and Napoleon. Napoleon introduced the levée en masse—the first modern conscription. This was a revolutionary and terrifying new idea: the entire nation was the army. War was no longer the profession of a knightly class; it was the duty of every citizen. This was the birth of the “nation in arms,” and with it, the potent ideology of nationalism.

The Manufacture of Loyalty: Selling the Flag

With conscription came the need to manufacture consent and loyalty on an industrial scale. The state, now an abstract concept, had to be sold to its people as the ultimate object of devotion.

· Symbolism Over Substance: The flag, the anthem, and the mythologized history became sacred. They were tools to create an imagined community, persuading a farmer from Brittany that he shared a common destiny and should die for a banker from Paris.

· The One-Way Covenant: This new loyalty was a one-way street. The citizen owed the state their life, their taxes, and their children. The state offered in return a mythical future of glory and security, with no contractual obligation to deliver. Your brother’s death was framed not as a tragedy, but as a “supreme sacrifice” for the patrie, the fatherland—an abstract entity that would outlive him and therefore justified his extinction.

The Financial Revolution: Breaking the Gold Chain

Perhaps the most significant enabler of modern, total war was the financial revolution: the move away from the Gold Standard to Fiat Currency.

· The Old Limit: A king could only wage war for as long as his gold reserves held out. This was a natural check on conflict.

· The New “Magic”: Fiat currency, money backed by government decree rather than a physical commodity, changed everything. A government could now, in essence, create money out of thin air to pay for war. It could finance conflict through massive deficit spending, bonds sold to its own citizens, and inflation. The limits were no longer tangible, but political and psychological. Wars could now be fought for years, draining the real wealth—the lives, labour, and resources—of a nation while the financial elite profited from the lending and industrial production.

The American Civil War: The Neoliberal Blueprint

The American Civil War as a horrifying prototype. It was the first truly modern, industrial war.

· Total Economic Mobilization: It saw the full mobilization of national industrial capacity—railroads, telegraphs, mass-produced arms—to destroy the enemy’s economic infrastructure and will to fight.

· A War of Attrition: It was not fought by professional armies in set-piece battles, but by massive conscript armies in a grinding war of attrition, where the side with the last man and bullet standing would win.

· Extractive Lessons: The Northern victory, driven by its industrial and financial might, provided a blueprint. It demonstrated that a modern state could leverage its entire economic system to prevail in a conflict. The elites observed that war could be used to centralize power, crush alternative economic models (like the agrarian South), and open up new territories and populations for exploitation. The “Reconstruction” that followed was less about healing and more about the systematic economic subjugation of the South, a model of post-conflict control and resource extraction.

The 20th Century: War as a Business Model with Human Breeding Cycles

The World Wars cemented this model. WWI was the ultimate testament to the failure of the old world and the terrifying efficiency of the new. It was a slaughter funded by fiat currency and nationalism, where millions died for gains measured in yards of mud.

The aftermath of WWI—the Great Depression—provided the final, brutal lesson for the common person. It proved conclusively that the population never wins. Even the “victorious” powers were left with shattered economies, a “lost generation,” and social trauma. The profits flowed to the arms manufacturers, the industrialists, and the financiers who funded both sides. The interlude of peace was not for recovery, but to allow a new generation to grow up—to replenish the stock of human capital for the next conflict.

This is the modern business model of war:

1. Create a nationalistic myth to ensure a supply of loyal citizens.

2. Use fiat currency to break the natural financial constraints on conflict.

3. Mobilize the entire industrial base around war production, creating immense profits for connected corporations.

4. Engage in a conflict that grinds down the human and material resources of the enemy (and your own population).

5. During the “peace,” impose economic policies (like the austerity after WWI) that create the desperation and inequality that make the next generation willing to fight.

The citizen is the resource—the cannon fodder, the taxpayer, the factory worker, and the consumer of the debt. The elites are the permanent class that manages this system, a system where war is not a failure of policy, but a perversely logical and profitable outcome of it. They have engineered a perpetual motion machine of extraction, and we are the fuel.

The Choice: A Global Family or a Funeral Pyre

The Obscene Arithmetic

Andrew Klein 20th November 2025

Let us speak in the only language the architects of our ruin seem to understand: numbers.

· To end world hunger by 2030: $267 billion per year (United Nations estimate).

· Global military expenditure in 2023: $2.24 trillion (Stockholm International Peace Research Institute).

· Cost of Australia’s AUKUS submarine program: A$368 billion over 30 years.

The math is not complicated. It is criminal. We are not facing a scarcity of resources. We are witnessing a scarcity of moral courage, a deliberate choice to fund instruments of death over the fundamental right to life. This is not an accounting error; it is a value judgment passed by a global elite upon the rest of humanity.

The Two Governing Principles: Family vs. Extraction

Beneath these numbers lie two opposing forces governing our world.

The Family Principle is the ancient, foundational law of human survival and flourishing. In a family—whether bound by blood or by chosen covenant—the well-being of one is the concern of all. The strong protect the vulnerable. Resources are shared to meet need. No child goes hungry while another feasts. This principle, scaled to a global level, would mean treating every human life as inherently valuable and organizing our economies to ensure its preservation and dignity.

The Extraction Principle is the diseased logic of the gilded rentier class—the billionaires, the arms dealers, the political enablers. It views the Earth and its people as a collection of resources to be mined for profit. In this model, hunger is not a problem to be solved; it is a weapon of control. Conflict is not a tragedy; it is a lucrative market. The military-industrial complex is the perfect embodiment of this principle: a self-justifying engine that consumes public treasure to create private wealth, manufacturing the very insecurities it promises to neutralize.

Hunger as a Weapon, Inequality as the System

The gap between the farmer who grows the food and the person who cannot afford to buy it is not an accident. It is engineered. It is maintained by a global architecture of speculative commodities trading, monopolistic control over seeds and distribution, and trade policies designed to funnel wealth upward.

This is structural violence. It kills more silently and surely than any bomb. As the ancient African proverb warns, “When the elephants fight, the grass suffers.” The geopolitical posturing of superpowers—the “elephants” of the US, China, and their allies—is conducted on the terrain of the global poor. The conflicts in Gaza, Sudan, and Yemen are the direct result of a system where land, resources, and human lives are the currency of power. The poorest women and children are the primary victims, their suffering an externality in the ledgers of the powerful.

Australia: A Case Study in Betrayal

Do not imagine this is a problem only “over there.” The Australian government, under both Kevin Rudd and Anthony Albanese, provides a pristine example of this betrayal in action.

While speaking of “jobs” and “security,” the political class is executing a massive wealth transfer. They are hijacking the taxes of the Australian people—including those struggling with a cost-of-living crisis, unaffordable housing, and strained public services—to funnel hundreds of billions of dollars to the U.S. and U.K. defence industries.

The public is told the AUKUS submarines are to defend “our way of life,” while the real attack on that way of life is the deliberate underfunding of social services to free up capital for these weapons. The poor in Australia suffer from this theft of their future, just as the poor in Gaza suffer from direct bombardment. The scale of violence differs, but the underlying principle is identical: the grass is meant to suffer for the elephants’ games.

The Path Forward: Enforcing the Family Principle

The solution is not another polite policy proposal. It is a revolution in consciousness. It is the deliberate and relentless application of the Family Principle on a global scale.

1. Name the Theft Relentlessly.

We must become amplifiers for this obscene arithmetic. Every headline about a new weapons contract must be met with the public calculation: “This $X billion purchase could have fed Y million people for a year.” Make the opportunity cost of every missile, every submarine, unbearably visible.

2. Re-localize Power and Build Resilience.

We must build networks of mutual aid that operate on the Family Principle now. Support local food systems that are immune to global speculation. Create community networks for childcare, elder care, and resource sharing. Withdraw our energy and dependence from the brittle, extractive system.

3. Withdraw Consent and Demand Consequences.

Organize mass, non-violent non-cooperation. This includes:

· Tax Resistance: Campaigns to redirect taxes away from military spending.

· Divestment: Pressuring universities, pension funds, and banks to pull investments from the arms industry.

· Political Accountability: Making support for these corrupt wealth transfers a career-ending stance for any politician, of any party.

Conclusion: The Mandate for a Human Future

The dangerous simpletons in their gold castles believe their wealth insulates them from the consequences of their actions. They are wrong. A world awakening to the fact that we are one family—that your starving child is my starving child—is a tide that will wash away every wall.

This is not a plea. It is a mandate. The choice before us is no longer between left and right, but between family and funeral pyre. We can continue to fund our own destruction, or we can choose to nourish our collective future.

The games of the elite are over. It is time we, the people, started acting like the global family we are destined to be.