When Humanity, Decency, and Justice Are Passé

As Principal of Kindred Communications, I work with organizations committed to equity and social justice—helping them shape language, clarify purpose, and communicate with integrity. This series grows from that same commitment: to make meaning, invite dialogue, and hold space for what often goes unsaid in this work.

You’re traveling through another dimension… a dimension not only of spectacle but of moral dissonance. A journey into a land where what was once righteous is now ridiculed, where the fabric of justice is threadbare, and where kindness, courage, and truth-telling have gone out of style.

That’s the signpost up ahead.

Your next stop: The Twilight Zone (aka America).

If you're like me, you were raised on the idea of progress as linear, as earned, as inevitable. A world where each act of justice, each courageous truth spoken, would tip the balance toward something better. You believed in the math: that movement-building yields momentum, that excellence would be rewarded, that each generation would live a fuller, freer life than the one before it.

That hard work plus integrity equals progress.

But that equation seems to have been erased from the chalkboard.

We’ve arrived in a world where truth is treated like a conspiracy, compassion like a weakness, and cruelty like a brand. Where sociopathy is applauded as strategy, and greed is dressed in the high fashion of “freedom.” Where bills are passed to cut lifelines from those who need them most—then called fiscal responsibility with a straight face.

Somewhere along the line, the gears slipped. The machinery that once churned (slowly, yes, painfully at times) toward something better has reversed course. And if you're not careful, you’ll keep marching dutifully forward… only to find you're walking off a cliff.

You think you're in a democracy, but the scenery’s off. The light is too dim. The air too thin.

That’s when it hits you.

You're in an episode.

You are the person walking into the boardroom in bell-bottoms and a flower-power tee—thinking this is a brainstorming session on justice, only to find everyone’s using another agenda. They’re in shoulder pads and suspenders. They’re quoting Ayn Rand and passing cigars. Gordon Gekko is at the head of the table.

You clear your throat to speak, expecting a roundtable.

Instead, you get the laugh track.

But here’s the twist—every Twilight Zone episode has one.

In this one, the person who refuses to conform doesn’t disappear.

She gets clearer.

She stops begging to be understood by the ensemble cast and writes a new script. One where decency doesn’t need approval to exist. One where kindness isn’t strategy—it’s standard. One where justice doesn’t wait for applause.

Because she knows she’s not alone.

There are others in bell-bottoms. Others still clinging to the wild belief that equity is still possible, that community still matters, and that the story isn’t over yet.

It’s just an episode.

And we’re still writing the ending.

Truth and love win.

In the meantime, we band together to minimize the hurt.

And those who built the coliseum and sold tickets to the spectacle?

They may cheer now, laughing from their gilded box seats, convinced they’re the audience for the devour.

But every story has a turn.

Eventually, even they will realize…

They are the offering.