Online political rhetoric is full of phrases that assert unearned authority, claim undefined group identity, foreclose alternatives, and smuggle in redemption narratives. This essay examines the grammar of capture – the linguistic patterns that replace thinking with tribal performance – and offers a path toward more individuated speech.
“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” – Wittgenstein
Someone the other day on social media wrote something along the lines of, “We need to do [action].” This particular comment was in the context of a political post advocating electoral accelerationism, purging the GOP of establishment/Zionist types by hoping Democrats win as many seats as possible in 2026 elections so that a Groyper right would later be ascendant (lol), but the expression “we need to” is used regularly in all sorts of contexts. I found myself triggered by the expression – I felt physical agitation – and I pondered why this was. After reflection, the answer seems to be that it assumes commonality without demonstrating it:
- They imply an undefined group identity. The speaker claims to speak for a “we” that has not been defined. Who is this “we”? Does it include the reader? On what basis is the reader included or excluded? Does “we” mean Americans? Humans? Conservatives? Whites? Anti-Zionists? Does the reader agree to the shared interest? It’s usually arrogant in the context it is used. In propaganda and online tribalism, “we” is often an act of epistemic annexation. By declaring what “we need to do” or what “we know,” a speaker attempts to bypass your consent. They graft your identity onto their agenda without your permission, forcing you into a false binary: either accept membership in their undefined collective or actively break rank and become an outsider.
- They assert unearned authority. The speaker positions himself as the one who knows, the one who has seen through the deception, the one who can lead others to the truth. This authority is not demonstrated, it is assumed. “Need” – it assumes that there is a specific option that must happen, and the tone places the speaker in the role of decider/leader. On what basis is this authority derived from?
- They claim to have examined all alternatives. The speaker implies that they have considered all options and arrived at the correct conclusion, but this examination is not shown, the alternatives are not addressed. The conclusion is asserted, not argued. Have all the options been objectively assessed? Would the reader necessarily agree with the analysis? Why is the speaker making that assumption?
- They smuggle in a redemption narrative. The speaker implies that if the proposed action is taken, things will get better. Whether it is the Groyper right hoping for a cyclical reset or tech-dissidents waiting for institutional collapse, the underlying narrative structure remains theological. It relies on a secularized version of original sin (the enemy’s corruption), an apocalyptic awakening (the red pill), and a promised paradise (the societal restoration that follows victory). This is the redemptive structure – the promise that suffering will be rewarded, that justice will be done, that the arc bends toward the good. But this promise is not grounded in the structure of reality; it is hope, not analysis.
So “we need to” is an implicit assertion of “here’s a group, you’re a part of the group, I am the leader of this group, I have properly assessed all options, follow me to redemption.” This isn’t meant to assert that groups don’t form or exist or that leaders don’t arise from that formation, of course, but this isn’t how that expression is commonly used on the internet.
This contemplation then pivoted toward asking what other common online expressions express an underlying intent other than what the surface words appear to mean. Below is a list of common expressions I brainstormed that apply and why I think they’re not “on the level”. I will note that I am not entirely guilt-free from the following idioms; sometimes they are heuristic – rhetorical shortcuts employed – and sometimes it is old habits that die hard, but I do try my best to avoid them where I can.
Before I list them, a disclaimer: these expressions are common in the reactionary and dissident spaces. This is not because these spaces are uniquely guilty of lazy rhetoric – the left and the establishment have their own set of misleading expressions, movements I have critiqued extensively elsewhere. Rather, it is because this was my own world for a long time. I spent years immersed in these spaces, and I can speak to their rhetorical habits with firsthand knowledge. I have evolved past them to a different relationship with language itself. The purpose of this essay is structural analysis: how language captures us, and how we can try to refuse the capture.
The Pattern
First, let me name what the below expressions have in common. Generalizing the “we” analysis above, they perform one or more recurring operations: claiming unearned authority, presupposing an undefined collective, foreclosing alternatives, and converting contingent political hopes into redemptive necessity.
- Unearned authority. The speaker positions themselves as the one who knows, the one who sees clearly, the one who can lead others. This authority is not demonstrated, it is assumed.
- Undefined group identity. The speaker claims to speak for a “we” that has not been defined. Who is included? On what basis? Not specified.
- Unexamined alternatives. The speaker implies that they have considered all options and arrived at the correct conclusion. But this examination is not shown, the alternatives are not addressed.
- Redemptive promise. The speaker implies that if the proposed action is taken, or if the identified enemy is defeated, things will get better. This is the redemptive structure – the promise that suffering will be rewarded, that justice will be done, that the arc bends toward the good.
The following list does not mean that ordinary practical language is intrinsically manipulative. They can be legitimate shorthand if the speaker identifies scope, evidence, counterexamples, and uncertainty. Rather, these phrases become capture-language when they conceal the speaker’s authority, erase the boundaries of the relevant group, foreclose contestable alternatives, and turn an uncertain political possibility into a moral necessity.
The List
“Right” / “Left”
These are the foundational tribal labels. They are used constantly, yet almost never defined with any precision. What does “right” mean? Traditionalism? Libertarianism? Nationalism? Capitalism? White identity? The term is used to encompass all of these and more, often shifting meaning depending on the context. Who is included? Which factions are excluded? The terms are used to imply that all factions within the category share the same goals, values, and strategies. The speaker claims to know what “the right” believes, wants, or is doing, and also assumes that their understanding of “the right” is accurate and complete. Furthermore, these terms are often used to dismiss internal dissent within a coalition – e.g., “the right” is accused of something, and therefore any criticism of that accusation is dismissed as “leftist.” The binary dramatically reduces the ability to analyze nuance and conflicting ideas within a movement. There is also a redemptive promise: if “the right” wins, or if “the left” is defeated, things will get better.
The problem is not that political factions do not exist. They do. The problem is that “right” and “left” are usually employed as black boxes – they explain everything and therefore explain nothing. They are placeholders for complex, contested, and internally divided coalitions.
“The Elites…” / “The Globalists…”
These are the dissident equivalents of “the establishment” and are almost never defined. Who specifically? What institutions? What mechanisms? The vagueness allows the speaker to project whatever they hate onto the category. The speaker claims to know who the elites are and what they are doing. This knowledge is asserted, not demonstrated. They also imply that they are not part of the elite – they are the people, the ordinary, the excluded. But “the people” is never defined. The speaker implies that the elites are the cause of all problems. But this is asserted, not shown. And it also offers a redemptive promise: if the elites are removed or defeated, things will get better.
The problem is not that elites do not exist, they do. The problem, as above, is that the term is used as a black box – it is a placeholder for resentment, not an analysis.
“The Woke Mob…” or “Woke Mind Virus”
A construction that treats progressive activists as a single, coordinated force, and is used as a smear to dismiss concerns about inegalitarianism as irrational or dangerous. The speaker claims to see through the “woke” narrative. This insight is asserted, not demonstrated. Elon Musk uses this term constantly. The terms are also undefined: what does “woke” mean in this context? Is it transsexualism, is it homosexuality, is it mixed-race marriage? Is the women’s right to vote “woke”? Is it a complaint about society allowing these identities and relationships, promoting them, or forcing them? What is the “mob” or “virus” in this context, and in what relationship is it a “woke mob”? It spreads from person to person? What is the mechanism, how does it work, and how is it cured? Under what conditions is it cured? What is the cost of “cure”?The speaker also implies that “wokeness” is the cause of social decay, and alternatives are not considered. The redemptive promise is that if “wokeness” is defeated, society will return to sanity and order.
“Redpilled…”
A term from The Matrix, used to mean “awakened to the truth.” Often used to signal in-group membership. The speaker claims to have special knowledge that others lack. This knowledge is not demonstrated. The group identity is assumed: “We” are the redpilled, the awakened, the ones who see clearly, but “we” is undefined; one may ironically note that The Matrix directors both became transsexual and stated “redpilled” related to transsexual identity, which is diametrically different from the common “right wing” context. The speaker implies that they have seen through the illusion, but the “truth” they claim to have discovered is asserted, not argued. The redemptive promise is if you take the red pill, you will see the truth. The truth will set you free.
“Critical Thinking…”
Often used to mean “thinking like me.” Used to dismiss opposing views as uncritical or sheep-like. The speaker claims to be a critical thinker but this is asserted, not demonstrated. The group identity is not properly defined: “We” are the critical thinkers, the ones who think for ourselves. But “we” is undefined, as is “thinking.” Ironically, “critical thinking” often means turning off one’s critical thinking abilities to follow the opinion of the speaker. The speaker implies that those who disagree are not thinking critically, and the alternatives are not considered. The redemptive promise is if you think critically, you will arrive at the truth. The truth will set you free.
“Do Your Own Research…”
A construction that implies the speaker has done the work and the listener has not. It positions the speaker as intellectually superior while evading the burden of presenting evidence. The speaker claims to have done research, but does not present it. The work is invisible. Group identify is undefined: it implies that “we” are the researchers, the ones who think for ourselves, and it assumes that “research” leads to the speaker’s conclusion. Alternative conclusions are dismissed as not real research. The redemptive promise is if you do your own research, you will see the truth. The truth will set you free.
“Common Sense…”
A construction that equates the speaker’s position with obviousness. Used to dismiss opposition as irrational or dishonest. The speaker claims to possess “common sense,” which is defined as their own position. “We” are the sensible ones. Those who disagree are not sensible. Alternatives are not considered; they are not “common sense.” The redemptive promise is if we use common sense, we will solve the problem.
“It’s Obvious…”
A way of saying “I am right” without argument. The speaker’s position is so obvious that it does not need to be defended. “We” see the obvious. Those who don’t are blind. Alternatives are not considered, they are not obvious. The redemptive promise is we accept the obvious, we will act correctly.
“The Window Is Closing…” “We can’t afford to wait…”
Assumes a limited opportunity. Often used to pressure others into agreement. The speaker knows when the window will close, “We” are the ones who see the opportunity, and the speaker assumes that the window is real and closing. The redemptive promise is if we act before the window closes, we will succeed.
“The Solution Is…”
Asserts a solution without evidence. The speaker knows what the solution is, “We” are the ones who know the solution, but other solutions are not considered. If we implement the solution, the problem will be solved.
“You Don’t Hate Them Enough”
Asserts an unpunished criminal conspiracy worthy of hatred. The speaker claims to know who constitutes “they”, blames “them” for a litany of alleged wrongs of the world, and is telling you what your feelings should be about it. “You” don’t have the speaker’s knowledge of “their” unspeakable criminal behavior, but if you did, you would hate them more than you currently do, the lack of which speaks to your current level of ignorance and deficiency, until it rises to such a level as to constitute “enough hatred.” (This phrase is a form of emotional conscription; it does not seek to inform or persuade, it seeks to recruit your affect. The speaker does not want you to think, they want you to feel. And they want you to feel in a specific, intense way that serves their agenda. It is the grammar of capture applied to emotion.)
If “you” “hate” “them” “enough”, then it will somehow lead to real world action where “they” will be punished, leading to a rebalancing of the world. But until “you” “hate” “them” “enough”, the world will remain broken – and it’s your fault that it is so, as the glorious, enlightened speaker is so kind as to tell you.
Why This Matters
What unites these expressions is their function: they allow the speaker to assert authority without demonstrating it, to claim group identity without defining it, to foreclose alternatives without examining them, and to promise redemption without grounding it in reality. But these expressions are structurally misleading, even if they are not consciously intended to be so by the speaker: they perform epistemic and social operations that exceed what their literal content acknowledges. They argue something different than what the surface words actually mean. They replace thought with performance, they assert authority without justification, they claim group identity without demonstration, they smuggle in redemption narratives without evidence. All of these collapse distinctions that should remain differentiated: speaker / audience, observation / interpretation, fact / value, evidence / assertion, individual / collective, possibility / necessity, analysis / prescription, uncertainty / certainty, present condition / redemptive future.
As I’ve explored elsewhere in examining language as an active forcefield shaping the architecture of consciousness, these idioms are psychic technologies. These kinds of expressions are a mechanism by which egregores (as discussed here; it is not being used in an occult sense) maintain themselves; they are the grammar of capture. Finite beings necessarily compress reality into models. Capture begins when the compression becomes invisible to the person doing it. These expressions function as the feedback loop’s maintenance signals. When someone says “we need to” or “the elites are…”, they are broadcasting a signal that reinforces the collective attention pattern, pulling individual god-images back toward conformity with the egregore’s requirements. The social friction of not repeating these expressions – the confusion, hostility, or exclusion that follows – is the egregore’s back-pressure mechanism enforcing compliance. Each phrase analyzed above hints at the user’s underlying stabilizer function, a linguistic technology that allows the user to regulate their psyche through group identity rather than internal pressure-bearing. A phrase like “we need to” is better understood as a linguistic cue or micro-ritual of recruitment, and it can activate a stabilizer: “We” may recruit attachment and belonging, “redpilled” may recruit esteem and special knowledge, “The solution is…” may recruit agency and control. “The arc bends…” may recruit meaning and narrative. “It’s obvious…” may provide pseudo-coherence. They provide recruitment without suffering the cost of individuation.
The point here is not to ban the word “we,” or to pretend that collective action is avoidable. Every relationship, institution, and project requires some provisional commonality. The question is whether the speaker makes that commonality visible and contestable: who is included, what is being asked, what evidence supports it, what costs it carries (for every action carries cost, no matter how wonderful it seems at first glance), and who may reasonably dissent. Non-capture language does not abolish coordination, it makes the terms of coordination legible.
Actual thinking – looking at the roots of ideas, seeing how they are connected to other ideas, recognizing the limitations of any particular label or approach – is scary, difficult, uncertain. We (yes, here I use the word as applied to all living beings) are all limited beings crucified by the opposites under totality. We see narrowly, through a glass darkly. What our models must exclude does not disappear; it accumulates as unprocessed pressure until it returns in a form we can no longer contain. This is the tragedy of existence. The tragedy is not that we are captured by egregores, but that we seek capture because the alternative – bearing the crucifixion of opposites internally – is metabolically expensive. Offloading the crucifixion onto institutions or ideology is a smart strategy for most people because it frees up energy that would otherwise be consumed by agony and paralysis, allowing them to actually live.
The alternative to misleading rhetoric, then, is precision and humility. When you are tempted to say “the elites,” ask yourself: who specifically? what institutions? what mechanisms? And then say that instead. When you are tempted to say “we need to,” ask yourself: who is “we”? on what basis am I including others? have I examined the alternatives? And then say that instead. When you are tempted to say “the solution is,” ask yourself: how do I know? what am I not considering? what if I’m wrong? And then say that instead. My framework’s own language is not immune to these patterns, I am not perfect; precision and humility are ongoing disciplines rather than achieved states (and I recognize the irony of claiming a superior position in this post – “I see what others do not” – but such is unavoidable in picking apart these language games; what matters is that the argument is explained, dissected, and not asserted).
This is not easy, social, or comfortable. It is the path of individuation – the refusal to offload responsibility onto vague collectives or hidden enemies, the refusal to assert unearned authority, the refusal to smuggle in redemption narratives that are not grounded in the structure of reality. 1 What non-capture language looks like is the specific, the provisional, the first-person, the interrogative, hermetic speech which circulates between registers without resolving them into doctrine. Compare “We need to destroy the system” with: “I think institution X is producing outcome Y through mechanism Z. My proposed intervention is A, but I haven’t ruled out B or C, and I don’t know whether the intervention would produce unintended consequences.” The first sentence is cheap because its costs are invisible and unpaid – someone still has to supply the missing specifics, absorb the unexamined risk, live with the consequences of an action no one actually argued for. The second sentence is expensive because the speaker pays those costs up front, in public, by name. This is why individuation is difficult and capture is attractive: capture lets you export the bill. In other words, language is individuated if it acknowledges its own limitations, does not claim finality, and remains open to revision. Ultimately, it is a refusal to employ linguistic shortcuts that otherwise allow you to escape responsibility for your own epistemic position.

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Individuation, in this framework, is the internal response to the crucifixion of opposites: the ego holding the opposites in suspense without resolving them through external authority or acting-out, until a provisional orientation emerges from within. It offers no cosmic protection, no guarantee, no redemption, only increased consciousness, which is expensive and which most psychic configurations cannot sustain under ordinary conditions. The linguistic behaviors described in this essay are the speech-equivalent of that same discipline.

