I notice that in many instances, men who have taken a bold and politically incorrect stance have, after succumbing to overwhelming pressure to back down, folded in unseemly ways and then spent the rest of their lives trying to justify their decision.
I understand why men surrender. It's not the oncoming bayonets of the enemy army that make a soldier turn and run; it's when he sees panic and a breakdown of discipline among the ranks of his own platoon. And it's not the knife in the chest that hurts the most, but the knife in the back. That's why feminists and SJWs love to infiltrate movements and organizations and play the concern troll; it's a much more effective tactic of destroying their opponents than attacking them from the outside. (And this is also why every movement needs a strong leader, to keep order and send traitors, cowards, and spies before the firing squad, so to speak.)
Dissident activists start out knowing they're going to be persecuted by the establishment, but what really knocks the wind out of them is when their own erstwhile supporters say stuff like, "Aren't you being a little selfish? When you hurt yourself, you hurt us, but obviously you don't care about that. You show your lack of respect for us, when you bring upon yourself inconvenience and controversy, and make us feel embarrassed to be associated with you," or "Your taking our ideas to their logical conclusions in such a public way hurts our movement, so we're going to rewrite history to say that you were never truly one of us, but rather all along you were either an agent provocateur serving our enemies or a publicity whore insincerely using our ideology's name as a platform for getting more attention solely for ego gratification," or "Think of all the opportunities to change the world by working within the system, that you're flushing down the toilet by being so unreasonable!"
One of the reasons men apologize in a particularly degrading way is so that they will destroy their own self-respect, creating a psychological barrier to later changing their mind and going back to their original stance. That way, they can feel a sense of peace in knowing that they need not fret about the decision anymore because it is irrevocable. Activists start out thinking, "I am a bold man of integrity!" They revel in their
egoistic dance for attention, knowing that being an eloquent and outspoken dissident makes them special, because there aren't very many of those around.
Then, when the pressure gets to be too much, they disavow their past stances. They may take irreversible actions, like resigning from office or burning all of their past writings, as a way of showing commitment to their new path. The media publishes an article headlined, "Misogynistic Rape Advocate Disavows Anti-Woman Stances, but Only after Coming Under Intense Criticism" and then all is quiet. He feels a sense of relief, telling himself, "I did what I had to do."
The activist now is in a position where there will be a lot of cognitive dissonance if he wants to reverse course yet again and resume his "misogynistic rape advocacy." People might say, "I thought you disavowed all that? Make up your mind!" Dissident activists usually pride themselves in being more truthful than the powers that be, and having the confidence of their convictions rather than going whichever way the political winds blow, as the politicians do. So it can be tempting to just double down and say, "No, I really did change my mind; I don't feel the way I used to anymore."
Besides, the activist who has surrendered can wallow in his victimhood. He can spend the rest of his life saying, "Look, I tried to speak my mind, but they shut me down, and I'm still suffering the consequences." He can think of himself as somewhat of a hero for even going as far as he went before giving up, since most people didn't even do that much. But that nagging question arises, "What next?" He glances at the hedonic treadmill gathering dust in the corner, and realizes there's nothing else to do but climb up on it again and get some exercise.
He can also comfort himself with the thought of there being plausible deniability as to whether his convictions were right to begin with. Humans are prone to error, and to being confident in their error. Remember how confident we were in our blue pill beliefs, before we went red pill? So who's to say that the red pill is correct? That could just be another delusion based on confirmation bias and the fact that we're hanging around a bunch of people with similar beliefs. The blue pill could, theoretically, still be correct.
So if, under pressure, we say, "Never mind! I disavow the red pill, and embrace the blue pill!" who knows, maybe that is indeed the right stance. If there's weren't some degree of doubt and inability to prove it definitively, there would be no need to choose one or the other based solely on inferences; we would just test the logic and evidence and come to a consensus. Blue pillers would all come over to the red pill, or red pillers would all come over to the blue pill, and we would all dance around the campfire together singing kumbaya.
The mythology of redemption runs deep in our culture. The man who repents feels inner peace, thinking, "Now I have been cleansed from wickedness, and my soul is as pure as snow!" But all it boils down to is an unconditional surrender to superior power. People who fear Hell give their lives to Jesus because they can't figure out a way to overpower God. The bank robber apologizes for his crimes and vows to pay restitution because he can't figure out a way to bust out of those handcuffs, jump over the fence, and hijack a plane to some country that lacks extradition.
The man who is powerful, on the other hand, doesn't need redemption. On the contrary, he is the one with the privilege of getting offended at others' behavior, and demanding they repent if they want to get back in his good graces. It just happens that as a dissident activist, you're not the one with the power.
Another way in which activists comfort themselves after surrendering is by saying, "Well, maybe the tactics I was using weren't the most effective anyway. I riled a bunch of people up, and got a lot of attention, but you attract more flies with honey than with vinegar." At that point, he just chooses to ignore the fact that the debate has become polarized, with the opposition accepting no compromises and caring nothing for the legitimate concerns of his side. He tries not to think about the fact that the media only pays attention to flamboyant characters who throw caution to the wind. He tries not to think of obituaries
like this one:
Bloomberg Wrote:Dr. Jack Kevorkian, who died last week at age 83, was a crank, an obsessive, a deeply eccentric loner, and a publicity hog. He also was a hero. There is a connection. Cranks move the world; polite, modest, unassuming people with measured views usually don’t.
The reality is that many people advocate gentle persuasion rather than confrontation because provoking confrontation is often harshly punished. But why is it harshly punished? Probably because it works! Therefore, a penalty has to imposed on those who resort to it. Meanwhile, a fake avenue for change (i.e. peaceful, low-profile persuasion of one's adversaries) is created so that people will make a few token efforts in that direction and tell themselves that they've done their duty.
Go ahead -- cast a ballot for Trump. Put an "I Voted" sticker on your shirt so that for the next several months (till Trump actually takes office and goes on live television to kiss the butts of the same Jewish, Saudi Arabian, etc. establishment that put in office his predecessors), you can pat yourself on the back and tell yourself that you did your part. Our system is set up in such an efficient way that making all the necessary changes the world only requires the very quick, inexpensive, and socially accepted act of casting a secret ballot every four years, right? It couldn't possibly be set up in such a dysfunctional way that the only method for effecting certain changes is by heroic individuals' making great sacrifices for the public good, sometimes over the course of many decades before the desired change comes to pass?
Tell yourself, "I am just one man. I can't change the world by myself. To believe I could would be quixotic and grandiose. I am just one grain of sand out of billions on this beach of humanity."
Forget about the fact that you're different than others; that you're better than that. Forget about the fact that you have a calling that motivates you to strive above what the masses aspire to. Forget about how you kept alive a few embers of hope that someday may burst into an open flame of effective action and rage into a roaring fire devouring all the dead wood and making room for new life to spring forth. Forget about the fact that you softened some of the more moderate members of your opposition by forcing the issue and sparking a debate that made them a little less certain of the rightness of their views, even if they didn't totally come around to your side.
Oh, you would like to forget about all that, because it would make you more comfortable in your decision to surrender, but it's always there, in the back of your mind. So then the only way to escape the cognitive dissonance is to go into the depression and say, "I should've stuck to my guns, but I was weak. That makes me unworthy of being an activist. So therefore, it's just as well I gave up, because I'm just not suited to this work."
Like many thoughts depressed people have, by which they convince themselves to do nothing (e.g. "I feel disgusted with myself for being such a fat slob. I better comfort myself
by eating an entire box of Yodels"), that's a circular argument, though.
Or you can nitpick the little things that you should've done differently, while you were still taking a principled stand and hadn't surrendered yet: "Ah, you know, when I talked to that reporter, I didn't really get my thoughts across in a convincing way. There were a few arguments I should've made, that I didn't think of at the time. So maybe I'm not the best spokesperson for this movement. Therefore, I have an excuse to give up, and it's just as well that I surrendered."
This being the manosphere, though, it's best if you don't admit any weakness or insecurities about your abilities to effectively share the red pill and handle the resulting pushback, but instead have an attitude of, "I would tell people about the red pill, but the first rule of red pill is,
don't talk about red pill." Then put on some sunglasses and smoke a joint as the gangsta music plays. You're such a badass.
Another time-honored conscience-soothing technique is just to say, "Everything's hopeless anyway; the world is too far gone to save, so I won't even try." Then you can pat yourself on the back for being so smart you didn't fall for people's invitations or exhortations to try to make a difference. You can tell yourself that it's a total coincidence that your suddenly being too weak to continue the fight just happened to immediately precede your becoming aware that the fight is unwinnable anyway for mankind as a whole, and therefore it's just as well that you didn't waste your effort.
Anyway, on to particular strategies. I've noticed that sometimes, an activist will offend a certain powerful group, and then say, "I'm going to reward you for attacking my livelihood by giving you all my money,"
e.g.:
Rachel Monroe Wrote:As the news of Jared and Jacob’s secret life continued to spread on Facebook, the men issued ham-fisted apologies (Jared: “Most of my life I’ve struggled with insecurities around dating”; Jacob: “I love women”) that only seemed to make things worse. They proclaimed that they would donate the coffee shop’s profits for the rest of the year to Our Voice, a local rape crisis center; Our Voice rejected the money and issued a statement saying that the organization “is not in a position of absolving them for their misogyny as it perpetuates a culture of danger to all women and girls.”
This reminded me of
what Milo said:
Milo Yiannopoulos Wrote:My book, Dangerous, has received interest from publishers after my previous publisher Simon and Schuster informed me they no longer wished to release it. The book will come out this year as planned. I will be donating 10 per cent of my royalties to child sex abuse charities.
I guess in that case, he was at least able to use his contrite and unexpectedly generously charitable announcement as an opportunity to get in another plug for his book. But I suspect that those child sex abuse charities are probably already bloated with more money than they need (since politicians who oppose their funding
get attacked as not caring about the kids), and some of them have turned out to be corrupt (
like the vigilantes behind
To Catch a Predator).
If you want to know the proper way to live out the rest of your life as a broken man after surrendering, I think inspiration can be found in the final chapter of Orwell's
1984. Yeah, Winston Smith is a fictional character, but the story rings true to life. To my recollection, he doesn't apologize to Big Brother or offer to pay 10 percent of his salary to the Junior Anti-Sex League as a token of his remorse for being such a bad example by banging a hot 26-year-old instead of practicing his physical jerks alone in his room. He keeps his dignity as much as he can.
On the other hand, I think there's a subtle element of subversion in the way he surrenders, because he goes so over-the-top: "Do it to Julia! Do it to Julia! Not me! Julia! I don’t care what you do to her. Tear her face off, strip her to the bones. Not me! Julia! Not me!" When you go so far in your surrender to the point that it becomes absurd, it emphasizes the fact that you're giving up under extreme pressure, rather than because of a sincere change in beliefs.
By the way -- I think men are capable sometimes of succumbing to the same kind of
dissociation that women manifest. Under extreme pressure, it's possible to convince yourself, at least temporarily, that the doctrine your torturers want you to convert to is sound. This enables you to more convincingly speak and act as though you've repented. If someone then throws you a lifeline, it can convince you that you're on the right path, because it produced a good result. This is what conversion by the sword is all about.