Chapter 560 - 263: Echo Chamber
Sarah said.
She pointed to the data stream on the left side of the screen. "The conservatives are frantically forwarding conspiracy theories about medical sovereignty. They think the Democratic Party is committing treason."
"Now look over here." She pointed to the right. "The progressives are spreading fake news about abuse in prisons. They think the government is establishing a fascist dictatorship."
"These two groups live in the same country and breathe the same air, but the worlds they see are two completely different versions of reality."
"They have no common ground. They can’t even have a conversation."
"Isn’t that exactly what we want?"
Leo said.
"We’re manufacturing chaos and fear."
"Only when everyone has gone mad will the sane appear weak, and the insane will become leaders."
Sarah pointed to a window in the center of the screen.
It was a televised debate, broadcasting live on CNN.
The host was trying to bring two scholars, one representing the left and the other the right, together for a rational discussion on the Critical Infrastructure Protection Bill.
"Everyone, let’s get back to the bill itself," the host said anxiously. "This is just an administrative clause about strengthening security. It doesn’t involve..."
"No! This is treason!" the right-wing scholar roared.
"This is fascist tyranny!" the left-wing scholar yelled, slamming his hand on the table.
The two of them descended into a shouting match in the studio, completely ignoring what the other was saying.
But the most ironic part was the ratings.
The data at the bottom of the screen showed the program’s real-time viewership was a pitiful 0.2%.
No one was watching.
No one cared what the truth was.
The viewers had long since turned off their TVs and returned to their phone screens, back inside the echo chambers that made them feel angry, validated, and certain they possessed the one true reality.
"Leo,"
Sarah said to Leo.
"This is the death of reason."
"In this era ruled by algorithms, the truth is boring. It’s bland."
"But emotion... that’s the drug."
Sarah walked over to a technician and leaned on the back of their chair.
"Do you know something Goebbels once said?"
"What?" Leo asked.
"Repeat a lie a thousand times and it becomes the truth."
"But his era was too primitive. He had to rely on radio, newspapers, and brute force to suppress dissent."
"We don’t need that."
"We have algorithms."
"The algorithm will repeat it for us ten thousand times, a million times."
"And what’s more, the algorithm automatically blocks out any dissenting voices or attempts at refutation."
"Inside this closed loop, a lie is no longer a lie."
Sarah’s voice was low, filled with a sense of conviction.
"It’s faith."
Leo looked at Sarah, unsure for a moment how to respond.
"Astonishing."
Roosevelt’s voice rang in Leo’s mind.
"To think that the clever little university student from a few years ago has now become someone I find unrecognizable."
There was a touch of wistfulness in Roosevelt’s tone.
"If Goebbels had a system like this back in his day, he could have convinced people that God was the Demon and that hell was paradise. The radio broadcasts and films he painstakingly produced would look like Stone Age tools next to this system’s algorithms."
"Sarah understands what propaganda is."
"Propaganda isn’t about educating the masses, it’s not about spreading the truth, and it’s not even about persuasion."
"Propaganda is for mobilization."
"It’s about luring out the most hidden, darkest desires and fears from deep within the public’s psyche, and then giving those emotions an outlet."
Leo took two steps forward.
’Are you marveling at the power of the platform?’ Leo asked in his mind.
"In part,"
Roosevelt replied.
"The platform certainly amplifies a person’s abilities. If Sarah didn’t have this network, didn’t have these precise algorithms, then no matter how talented she was, she’d be limited to handing out flyers in a small neighborhood."
"But, Leo, you can’t deny that some things are innate."
"That keen grasp of emotion, the instinct to distill complex political issues into simple slogans, the ability to maintain a cold, decisive resolve even in the midst of chaos."
"Those are things you can’t teach."
"Sarah."
Leo suddenly called out.
Sarah’s body stiffened slightly before she turned around.
"What is it?"
"Are you tired?" Leo asked unexpectedly.
Sarah froze for a second.
She hadn’t expected Leo to ask that kind of question at a time like this.
Her first instinct was to say "I’m not tired," to project the resilience of a professional woman.
But then she looked at Leo’s face, which was equally etched with exhaustion, and answered, "Tired."
Sarah let out a breath, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"Sometimes, when I look at those screens, at the crowds driven into a frenzy by a single command from me, I feel like I’m playing a horror game."
"I find myself thinking, ’These people I’m manipulating, they have their own lives, their own judgment. What right do I have to think for them? What right do I have to exploit their anger?’"
Sarah’s expression hardened.
"But then I just have to think about those insurance company executives, still popping champagne."
"I think about how our goal still isn’t accomplished."
"And then I feel that all of this is worth it."
"If I don’t become a monster, I can’t defeat the monsters."
Sarah straightened her posture again.
"I can’t go back, Leo."
"And I don’t want to."
Sarah met Leo’s gaze without flinching.
"Because the world has changed."
"In this echo chamber, you either become the one making the noise, or you become the one drowned out by it."
"I chose the former."
Leo just looked at her.