Like Elphaba in Wicked, those who defy authority often face demonization and persecution disguised as moral justice — a poignant reminder of the cost of standing against oppressive systems.

Defying Anti Life

Paul Brzeski
6 min readJust now

Injustice persists in our world not by accident or mere incompetence but through persistent patterns that feel almost deliberate. This isn’t about shadowy conspiracies — it’s about a mindset, an Anti Life agenda, that prioritizes control, division, and the exploitation of life itself over empathy, equity, and progress.

The Anti Life agenda — it’s a stark term, but one that encapsulates a chilling pattern. Think of the Bene Gesserit from Dune, whose meticulous plans span generations, manipulating societies in the name of a “greater good” only they define. They engineer conflict, claim wisdom, and treat individuals as pawns. Now imagine that on Earth, where policies justified as “for the greater good” too often conceal exploitation. Whether it’s corporations prioritizing shareholder profits over workers’ welfare or governments enacting austerity measures while the ultra-wealthy thrive, this mindset values systems over souls.

Consider the contradictions — poverty persists despite the resources to eliminate it, wars are prolonged rather than resolved, and safety nets are dismantled even when they make economic sense. The richest 1% of the global population controls nearly 50% of the world’s wealth, while billions struggle for basic necessities. These choices don’t simply arise from greed; they reflect a philosophy designed to keep us locked in cycles of distraction and desperation.

The Anti Life agenda isn’t just about power; it’s about control — control over resources, narratives, and even imagination. There is a doctrine that hardship creates strength and that giving yourself to others with abandon is a virtue — they exploit this to maintain dominance. We see this reflected in political tactics today: divide-and-conquer strategies that pit communities against each other. Whether through culture wars or scapegoating vulnerable groups, these tactics distract from systemic problems. The U.S., for instance, spends billions on defense contracts while struggling with healthcare access, homelessness, and infrastructure decay. The chaos isn’t accidental — it’s profitable.

A bit of friendly competition never hurt anyone; in fact, it can be the key to motivating new heights of achievement for the human race. And yet the drive to compete has been exploited by the Anti Life agenda and twisted — often relying on motivations of fear rather than the positive. Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a world where we went to work because we wanted to be there and not because we feared homelessness?

This is personal. A lot of us have tried to sound the alarm. We’ve warned friends and family for years, decades, tried to show them what’s happening, but so often they don’t listen. Instead, they double down, parroting the propaganda they’ve been fed or dismissing the harm outright. It feels like betrayal. And sometimes the only way to protect yourself is to cut those people off — to stop letting their toxic, narcissistic worldview bleed into your life. That’s not giving up. It’s choosing to live on your own terms and not be a part of a dysfunctional system.

The Anti Life agenda thrives due to its self-reinforcing nature. Systems of control often masquerade as the natural order. Poverty is framed as a personal failing rather than systemic neglect. Wars are sold as necessary conflicts. And divisive rhetoric is used to rally support through anger and fear, eroding trust between communities. These mechanisms maintain hierarchies where most of us remain too busy surviving to challenge the status quo.

Institutions often exemplify this hypocrisy. Religious organizations, for instance, might advocate charity while excluding marginalized groups from accessing their services and care. These are not oversights; they reflect a deliberate choice to sustain division and human suffering under the guise of moral authority.

It’s hard not to feel feral in a world that seems so deeply unfair — where injustice isn’t just ignored but actively celebrated by people who benefit from it. When we see this, it’s natural to want to hit back. To meet cruelty with fury. To fight fire with fire. But that path, tempting as it is, only leads to more suffering, more cycles of harm, and pushes us even further away from the kind of world we dream of.

Retaliating against an oppressor and injustice is a natural response. But this is where the Anti Life agenda reveals its insidious brilliance. Systems of control thrive on chaos and are adept at weaponizing resistance. Violent outbursts or isolated acts of defiance are amplified as justification for harsher oppression. Entire communities become scapegoated, and the cycle of harm continues.

This raises a difficult question: how do we resist without playing into their hands? Fiction offers valuable insights here. In Babylon 5, it’s only when Sheridan reveals the agenda of the Vorlons and the Shadows to the entire galaxy that everyone decides to stop fighting and stop playing the ancient races’ game. It’s my hope that by distilling this phenomenon in the human experience to a term like Anti Life and explaining its mechanics, I have given you, the reader, the tools to navigate this problem within your own life. I truly hope it goes well, for every single one of us.

True resistance begins not with violence but with creation. The Anti Life agenda cannot withstand the forces of connection, empathy, and collective action. This isn’t about passivity — it’s about transforming anger into constructive energy. Grassroots movements, community initiatives, and acts of kindness all serve as antidotes to division.

Research supports this approach. Studies in urban planning show that involving communities in decision-making leads to more equitable outcomes. Similarly, movements like participatory budgeting empower individuals to reclaim agency within broken systems. These examples highlight that small, intentional acts can ripple outward, challenging larger structures of control.

Perhaps this is why artists have such a hard time securing funding, or steady work, and have so much criticism within certain circles. The arts are often a pathway to hidden truths and revelatory experiences — from music like Bob Dylan or The Beatles that expose social problems to films like Slumdog Millionaire, which showed the world the extreme levels of poverty, and exploitation in slums around the world. Those who benefit and believe in Anti Life fear that a key piece of art could topple their entire regime. And they might be right.

Resisting the Anti Life agenda is as much about internal transformation as external action. Systems of control thrive on fear and hatred, but they falter in the face of truth and hope. Protecting our inner child — the part of us that loves without prejudice and believes in fairness — is an act of defiance. It’s about choosing humanity over cynicism and enjoying your time on Earth rather than suffering through it.

For myself, science fiction again serves as a guide. In Jodorowsky’s Technopriests, the protagonist dreams of a world where progress serves humanity rather than enslaving it. Imagine a society where dignity and empathy form the foundation of governance — where growth isn’t measured by GDP but by well-being.

We can’t dismantle unjust systems overnight, but we can undermine their foundations by refusing to play their game. When we act with intention, build meaningful connections, and prioritize creation over destruction, protection instead of retaliation, we begin to construct an alternative. This isn’t weakness; it’s strength rooted in hope.

So, how do we create a better world than the one we currently inhabit? The answer lies in our actions — small, collective, and steadfast. By choosing to protect our boundaries and committing ourselves to what we love. Reject the calls to feel fear, isolation and division. If we do those things, we can move closer to a reality where the Anti Life agenda has no place. The systems of control may be powerful, but they’re not inevitable. Change begins with the courage to imagine something better — and then just doing it. Even if it ruffles a few feathers.

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Paul Brzeski
Paul Brzeski

Written by Paul Brzeski

Sharing my opinion and passions about the many things in life.

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