Thank you for your response once again and the invitation to connect (I’ll reach out soon. I promise).
You make an important point about the human capacity to recognize distortion—optical illusions, subtext, body language, cultural signals. I agree that we’re not passive recipients of sense data, and I definitely don’t mean to deny the power of System 2 reasoning to help us revise our maps.
That said, I think part of the reason you can recognize those illusions so clearly is because you’re not only well-read and educated—you also engage reality more actively than most people do. You’ve trained your perception through practice, exposure, and likely some degree of privilege in time, environment, or community. That level of cognitive friction—questioning, resisting, reorienting—requires serious stamina.
But most people aren’t operating at that level.
For the average individual navigating high-frequency, high-volume environments (especially online), illusion detection isn’t just difficult—it’s exhausting. And some manipulations are subtle enough to slip through even the sharpest filters. None of us are immune.
Even now, despite all the work I’ve done, I’m still vulnerable.
When I engage with the world—whether through content, conversation, or just daily life—there’s a level of cynicism that creeps in. I stay alert, maybe too alert, because it’s just so easy to get sucked into emotional responses and entrenched beliefs. And when I’m not grounded, I feel it start to happen.
To be fully transparent: during the early COVID years, I was in a rough place. I was in a relationship that was already fragile. When the lockdowns hit, the cracks widened. She worked in healthcare, I was unemployed. She leaned liberal, I leaned center-right. The ideological differences weren’t new—but the stress magnified them. Communication broke down. Resentment built up. We stopped trying.
After the breakup, I spiraled into rage-bait content online. I was emotionally raw, isolated, and looking for meaning—or maybe just something to aim my anger at. I consumed hours of election conspiracy media. I became convinced the Democrats had stolen everything. I was in bad shape.
And here’s the thing: I knew better. But I wasn’t thinking. I was hurting. And I was vulnerable.
That’s why I’m here now. I transitioned out of aerospace and defense into this space because I saw firsthand how influence ops—state-run or not—can take root in people’s minds. Not just because of ignorance, but because of stress, loneliness, identity fragmentation.
And because I was a victim of one.
This is why I push so hard on the point-of-entry concept and why I don’t believe it’s enough to say, “People should think for themselves.” That’s true—but incomplete. We also need to build scalable systems of perceptual support that help people recognize distortion earlier in the pipeline, without handing them a prepackaged version of “truth.”
Because it’s in those moments—when the ground beneath us shakes or even gives way—that illusions take hold.
The communities building cryptographic tools, decentralized protocols, and parallel societies are often already inoculated to certain illusions. But not everyone will opt out of the nation-state system. Not everyone will join a parallel polis. And those people—our families, our neighbors, our younger selves—deserve protection too.
So when I talk about defending perception, I’m not talking about sterilizing sense-data or being the arbiters of truth. I’m talking about scaling discernment.
And I absolutely agree with you: it’s not just awareness, but practice that makes sovereignty real.
Appreciate the conversation, and looking forward to continuing 