Then walking down the street, do you avoid eye contact, not just with the homeless man, but with every human you come across? They certainly don’t belong in your bubble, and that most certainly does not make you a sociopath.
What about when you leave work for the day and rush home to decompress, without wanting to interact with anyone — does that make you a sociopath? Of course it doesn’t. Living in society can be difficult, and your time away from the constraints and responsibilities of being in said society is important.
What about not actively donating or giving to the less fortunate — does that make you a sociopath? I mean, it’s not great, but monetary stress, as well as uncertainty about where those funds actually go, can hinder the will to.
You were told daily, as an American citizen, that your birthright made you superior in every way, shape, and form compared to the rest of the world. Stand up and say — no, pray — the Pledge of Allegiance to this GOD’S COUNTRY. YOUR COUNTRY.
And to the Republic for which it stands — even though, I swear, they tell me it’s a democracy.
One nation, divided by red and blue.
Under God — but which one?
Indivisible — except by everything you can’t agree with.
With liberty — but not of the press or speech.
And justice for all — unless you don’t have the capital to defend yourself, in which case, “all” really just means those who do.
Every morning in school, this was the first thing drilled into you. Indoctrination disguised as patriotism, recited before you even knew what it meant. They never tell you about the fine print.
But of course, not knowing you signed a social contract at birth, and being either ambivalent or unaware as a young citizen to what you’re being told to say, does not make you a sociopath. How could it?
One day, you wake up, having spent your allocated time in textbooks selected for you, following a curriculum chosen for you, shown boundaries and limitations while being told you could be anything you wanted to be.
Your career, your path — none of it really matters, except for your future. Acquire your belongings, live a full life, and achieve the American Dream — just as promised. Sure, you’ve heard some murmurs about cracks in the system. The roads aren’t in perfect shape, but at least every corner isn’t a war zone (unless you’re in Chicago or Detroit). Your water isn’t completely toxic (unless you’re in Pensacola, Florida, or Riverside, California). Your family is in good health, but only because they avoid getting diagnosed, knowing they can’t afford treatment. Still, this is America, and being too self-aware about the state of things? Well, that’s practically un-American.
The only reason you even know any of this is because your favorite news source told you. But tomorrow, there will be different news, and why should you care? It’s only barely affecting you. And what could you even do?
Not feeling like you can change things doesn’t make you a sociopath. But seeing reality for what it is and choosing to do nothing? Maybe that’s just slightly sociopathic.
Manifest destiny — what a wonderful phrase. It means we can take without the burden of moral decay. The car, the phone, the latte, yeah, someone had to die for a small component of the larger product, but out of sight, out of mind. I saw those people being enslaved on the news. The Congo, right? But tomorrow it’ll be Peru. Did we arm the faction that will sell us those minerals the cheapest? Stay tuned.
But first, a word from our sponsors.
Let us sell you these antidepressants for only $9.99. “But if you die, it’s free,” I think to myself. Today, I realized I was a sociopath. But saying it out loud would put me in a box I really don’t want to be in. Still, knowing is half the battle. And knowing I won’t do anything to change means the war is over, at least in my mind.
But you? You couldn’t be like me. You aren’t a sociopath. I promise. Don’t worry about it. The medical definitions below? They don’t fit you. They don’t fit any of us.
Moral disengagement: The American citizen is taught to believe in their nation’s moral superiority, even when confronted with evidence to the contrary. War, exploitation, and economic disparity are rationalized as necessary evils. Individual responsibility is overemphasized, so systemic failures such as poverty, inequality, and environmental destruction become someone else’s problem.
Lack of empathy: The emphasis on hyper-individualism discourages collective care. From childhood, people are conditioned to prioritize personal success over communal well-being. Compassion fatigue sets in as constant exposure to suffering, like homelessness, mass shootings, and medical bankruptcies, becomes part of the background noise of daily life.
Desensitization: Information overload and the 24-hour news cycle make tragedy feel routine. People become numb to injustice, scrolling past another crisis, another scandal, another war. The ability to ignore suffering isn’t just normalized — it’s a survival mechanism.
Manipulation and deception: The narratives fed through media and education reinforce compliance. Patriotism is equated with obedience. Dissent is labeled un-American. The illusion of meritocracy ensures those who struggle are blamed for their circumstances rather than the system that put them there.
At its core, systemic sociopathy is not about the pathology of individuals; it’s about a culture that conditions people to disengage, to prioritize self-preservation over moral responsibility, to normalize cruelty by making it seem inevitable.
And if you felt any pain or discomfort while reading this truthful opinion piece, guess what? I don’t care.
I’ve been engineered not to care. And I really don’t care that I don’t care, and neither should you. I mean, unless you want to. But why would you?
Your birthright, no matter how rigged the celestial lottery, makes you a winner in a world of losers.
USA! USA! The land of the free — but only for me.
The home of the brave — brave enough to look away.
