The strange game of personal, digital (ie cybersecurity) hygiene is a mirror turned back on itself. Someone might believe that they are essentially protecting personal data, identity, security — but in truth what is being protected are the very contours of surveillance and extraction required by the (ie world, integrated) communications system. Every password, every biometric lock, every two-factor ritual: these serve not just the individual but the infrastructure that demands to be secured, regulated, and continuously verified. It is a recursive bind where technology enforces vulnerabilities so that it may sustain itself, reproducing fear and compliance as the substrate of its growth. The system thrives on fragile custodianship, teaching us to mistake the maintenance of its cages for the preservation of our freedoms.
Meanwhile, the same machinery that binds and communicates estranges and isolates. Its brilliance is celebrated through profit, glowing server farms, corporate mythologies of efficiency — yet the essence is corruption, for it must deform personalities into agents of its own propagation. We imagine technology benefits us; in reality, we are conscripts nourishing it. That the greatest technical surges occur through war is no accident: maximal ruin is maximal productivity. Continuity in such a system is guarded jealously by those who thrive within its walls, gatekeeping with cynical efficiency. Continuity without transformation is simply corruption at scale, and here we are — insecure primates with pointy sticks, mistaking the architecture of our alienation for progress.
One reply on “Technical Insecurity”
Individuals are obligated to manage passwords, update systems, protect data, and remain vigilant against threats — yet the real vulnerabilities are engineered into the infrastructure itself. Corporations build systems that harvest, store, and circulate vast amounts of personal information, while offloading the risks of breach or misuse onto end-users, customers, and ultimately national, if not global, economies. Security measures are framed as personal responsibility, when in reality they shield businesses from accountability and externalize costs. At scale, this creates a global environment where insecurity is not an accident but a feature, an economic and technological logic baked into how the system sustains itself.
From my perspective, this is a deeply strange game. We are paying for the privilege of being perpetually insecure, tricked into believing that vigilance is freedom, while the machinery profits from our fear and compliance. The normalization of insecurity is not a glitch but the very substance of the model: we are taught to police ourselves on behalf of technologies and institutions that cannot, or will not, manage their own consequences. This might work briefly in small contexts, but when multiplied across billions of lives, it reveals a systemic corruption that corrodes trust, community, and continuity itself. At global scale, it is simply broken — and yet we keep feeding it, as if there were no alternative.
Are there no alternatives here? Is this really an inescapable commercial, political and technical tesseract?
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