The New Emperor’s New Clothes: “Empirethink”

Twitter, a platform that was once seen as a catalyst for political change and social justice, has now become a breeding ground for propaganda, misinformation, and hatred. The ability to connect and communicate with people from all over the world in real-time has been exploited by those with vested interests, leading to the mirroring of “empirethink” and the capture of whole sectors of the economy.

It is no surprise that when a new leader comes into power, people expect change. However, the reality is often disappointing, and it seems that no matter how much people voice their opinions on Twitter, little seems to change. It’s as if Twitter has become a primordial soup of ideas, but soup of ideas can only seem to be translated into empirethink.

“Empirethink” is not limited to any one political ideology or party, but rather is a widespread phenomenon that transcends the traditional left-right divide. It is a way of thinking that prioritizes the interests of the elite and powerful over the needs of the wider society.

On the right, “empirethink” can be seen in the form of corporate capture of government and regulatory bodies, where powerful interests are able to shape policy in their own favor, often at the expense of workers and consumers. This can also manifest in the form of nationalist rhetoric that seeks to maintain the status quo and protect the interests of a privileged few.

On the left, “empirethink” can take the form of the belief in a centralized, technocratic approach to governance that is disconnected from the needs and desires of everyday people. This can lead to policies that are out of touch with the realities of people’s lives, and can result in a sense of disempowerment and alienation.

Regardless of the specific manifestation, “empirethink” is ultimately a mindset that perpetuates the concentration of power and wealth in the hands of a few, and perpetuates a system of inequality and exploitation.

The solution to “empirethink” is not to simply replace it with a different, more “breezy” version of the same mindset. Rather, it requires a fundamental deconstruction of the underlying framework of power and privilege that enables it to thrive. This means challenging the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a few, and working to build a more just and equitable society.

This will require a reorientation of our political and economic systems, away from the interests of the elite and towards the needs of the wider society. It will require empowering everyday people to take control of their own lives and communities, and building structures of governance and decision-making that are more transparent, participatory, and accountable.

The truth is that Twitter was never the problem. The problem lies in the capture of entire sectors of the economy by those who seek to maintain their power and privilege. This “empirethink” has become so entrenched that it is nearly impossible to challenge, let alone change.

The rise of Trump and the veer to the right are not a result of Twitter or social media. Rather, they are a symptom of a society that has been controlled by the elite for far too long. The failure to address this issue and acknowledge the miscalculations of the so-called “non-elite” only exacerbates the problem.

It is tempting to focus on destroying Twitter or other platforms that have been hijacked by those in power. However, this is a misguided approach that will only serve to reinforce the status quo. Instead, we must address the root cause of the problem and work to dismantle the structures of power that have enabled “empirethink” to thrive.

Body Without Organs

The “body without organs” is a central concept in the philosophy of Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari. It refers to a state of being or a mode of existence in which the body is no longer defined by fixed or predetermined structures, functions, or meanings.

According to Deleuze and Guattari, the body without organs is a state of pure potentiality, in which the body is free to explore and experiment with new modes of existence, without being constrained by social norms, expectations, or categories. In this sense, the body without organs is a kind of “undifferentiated” or “unformed” body that is open to new possibilities and experiences.

One example of the body without organs can be found in the realm of art, where artists often strive to create works that challenge established norms and conventions. For example, the avant-garde movements of the 20th century sought to break down traditional forms and structures in art, such as the representational or narrative forms found in painting and literature, and to explore new modes of expression that were more abstract, experimental, and open-ended.

Another example of the body without organs can be found in the realm of politics and social movements. In movements such as feminism, queer activism, and anti-racism, activists have sought to challenge established norms and power structures that define and constrain the body, such as gender roles, sexual norms, and racial categories. By disrupting these norms and creating new modes of existence, they seek to create a more liberated and equal society.

Overall, the concept of the body without organs is an important part of Deleuze and Guattari’s philosophy, and it has been influential in a wide range of fields, from art and literature to politics and social theory. It highlights the potential for creativity, experimentation, and liberation in the human body, and the importance of breaking down fixed or predetermined structures in order to create new possibilities and modes of existence.

The Super-Ego Injunction

“Doctor, if I quit content creation, will I finally be happy?” “Of course not—but you’ll stop pretending you might!”

Ah, the obscene superego injunction of late capitalism: “Create! Brand yourself! Be free!”—but only within the coordinates of a system that simultaneously democratizes the tools of production and annihilates the possibility of their emancipatory use. We are trapped in a perverse Hegelian dialectic: the very “democratization” of creation (Substack, Ableton, AI) functions as its opposite, a repressive desublimation. Like the infamous They Live sunglasses, we must pierce the ideological veneer: when we are told “anyone can be a creator,” what is really being said? “Anyone can exploit themselves in the digital marketplace—congratulations!”

Consider the Kafkaesque irony: the tools to “build your brand” are now so accessible that their accessibility itself becomes a form of control. The injunction to create is a symptom of the system’s failure. We are not merely alienated from our labor; we are now enthusiastically alienated, enjoying our alienation as we curate our LinkedIn posts, our TikTok dances, our Substack musings—all while the platforms commodify our jouissance. The “freedom” to create is the freedom to choose how we will be exploited. You think you are Hemingway with a newsletter? No! You are a digital proletarian, generating surplus value for the algorithmic landlords who own the digital commons.

And here is the Real of it: the more we participate, the more we reinforce the very structures that immiserate us. The “noise floor” of content saturation is not an accident—it is by design. The algorithm, this blind, idiotic god of late capital, feeds on our desperation, privileging the already privileged, creating a vicious cycle where visibility becomes a tautology: you are seen because you are seen. The illusion of meritocracy collapses into a hyperreal hierarchy, where success is retroactively justified as “authenticity” or “hustle.” The self-made creator? A fantasy that obscures the systemic violence of winner-takes-all platforms. You are not a entrepreneur—you are a gambler, rolling the dice in a rigged casino, mistaking your trauma-induced productivity for “hustle culture.”

Ah, but wait—the capitalist’s ultimate trick! The system needs you to believe in the exception, the rags-to-ratings story, the influencer who “made it.” This is the ideological fantasy that sustains the whole edifice: the fetishistic disavowal (“I know very well the system is rigged, but… maybe I will be the exception!”). It is the same logic as the lottery: a tax on the poor masquerading as hope. And when you fail? The system gaslights you: “You didn’t post enough! You didn’t hustle enough! You didn’t want it enough!” Your failure is your symptom, never the system’s.

And let us not forget the libidinal economy of this hellscape. The pressure to “create” taps into our deepest anxieties—of irrelevance, of invisibility—transforming them into productive fuel. We are not just selling content; we are selling ourselves, our quirks, our traumas, our cringe. The personal brand is the commodification of subjectivity, a self-cannibalization where authenticity is just another signifier to be optimized. “Be yourself—but correctly!” The paradox is sublime: the more you “express yourself,” the more you become a brand, a hollowed-out shell of marketable affect.

So what is to be done? The liberal will plead for reform—fairer algorithms, creator unions—but these are mere Band-Aids on a bullet wound. The problem is not the platforms; it is the libidinal infrastructure of capital itself. To truly escape, we must dare to stop wanting—to reject the superego’s demand to “create, create, create!”—and confront the void of our freedom. The radical act today is not to post, but to log off. To silence oneself in a world that demands constant noise. But of course, this is impossible… which is precisely why we must try. As the old joke goes: “Doctor, if I quit content creation, will I finally be happy?” “Of course not—but you’ll stop pretending you might!”