
Have you ever stopped to wonder how we actually got here? Humanity 2025. Not in a grand, cosmic sense, but in the practical, day-to-day reality of life. How did humans go from living in small, connected communities where survival meant cooperation to this modern chaos of inequality, power hoarding, and endless competition?
Picture it for a second: no skyscrapers, no borders, no billionaires. Just people figuring out how to share food, raise kids, and keep each other safe. They had no choice but to work together, to respect the land, and to find balance with each other. It wasn’t perfect, but they knew something we seem to have lost: that survival depends on connection, not domination.
Now think about today. We’re taught that the way things are is "natural"; that greed drives progress, that power belongs to the strongest, and that you’re on your own in this world. But what if that’s all a lie? What if those ideas are just systems designed to control us, to keep us disconnected and distracted? What if the truths we need to thrive are the very ones we’ve been conditioned to forget?
Let’s dig into those truths. Let’s explore the simple, powerful principles that held communities together long before the rise of dictators, corporations, and the myth of individualism. Because if we’re going to fix what’s broken, we have to start by remembering what it really means to be human. Let’s strip it back to the basics; the twelve essential understandings we need to rediscover if we’re ever going to build a world where everyone can truly thrive.
1. The Commons Are Sacred
In the beginning, the earth was shared. Rivers, forests, and fields were for all to sustain themselves, not to be hoarded by the powerful. But the rise of oligarchies and empires turned these shared spaces into commodities, fenced off and sold to the highest bidder. Landlords replaced stewards, and the earth itself became a product.
This theft was justified with lies: that "progress" requires exploitation, that capitalism is natural, and that the earth’s resources are infinite. Generations were brainwashed into believing the land exists to serve profit, not people. This exploitation has drained the planet, poisoned its people, and left millions fighting over scraps.
To repair this, we must reclaim the commons; not just physically, but spiritually. The land is not a resource; it is a relative. A just society honours the earth as sacred, not as a commodity.
2. Everyone Has a Role
Once, every person in a community had purpose. A healer’s hands were as valued as a hunter’s bow. But somewhere along the line, we were told a lie: that only some work matters. Empires taught us to worship those at the top and despise the hands that built their thrones. Modern capitalism deepened this rot, glorifying the CEO while the carer and the cleaner are rendered invisible.
This wasn’t accidental. It is easier to control a society where people feel powerless and replaceable. Divide them into hierarchies, teach them to look down on each other, and they’ll never look up to question the real source of oppression.
To break this cycle, we must honour all contributions. No job, no role, no individual is beneath dignity. A just society recognises that we thrive only when everyone thrives.
3. Respect for Elders, Youth, and Ancestors
Why do modern governments and oligarchies fear history? Because history exposes their lies. Once, elders passed down wisdom about survival, justice, and the cycles of life. Youth carried dreams of change. Ancestors were revered as guides and reminders of resilience. But now? Elders are isolated, youth are dismissed, and history is rewritten or erased entirely.
Dictatorships and colonial powers dismantled these connections on purpose. They burned libraries, outlawed traditions, and replaced ancestral knowledge with propaganda. They sold us a single story: that we are individuals, disconnected from each other and our past. Why? Because a people without roots are easier to control.
Reclaiming justice means reclaiming the circle of time. Listen to elders, empower youth, and honour the ancestors whose struggles paved our way. History is not just a record of what was—it is a weapon against the lies of those in power.
4. Conflict is Resolved Through Dialogue
Early communities understood that survival depended on cooperation, even in times of disagreement. They had systems—councils, rituals, storytelling—to air grievances and resolve disputes. But modern systems don’t want resolution; they thrive on division.
Dictators and media empires weaponise conflict, pitting neighbour against neighbour while they hoard wealth and power. Social media algorithms fan the flames, teaching us to see enemies instead of common ground. Divide and conquer is not a new strategy—it is ancient, and it works.
To resist, we must return to dialogue. Not the hollow "both sides" rhetoric of today, but true, uncomfortable, vulnerable conversations. Conflict, when met with empathy and honesty, becomes a bridge instead of a wall.
5. Power is Shared, Not Hoarded
Our ancestors knew that power corrupts. Leaders were not kings—they were guides, accountable to their people. But as empires grew, power was seized by the few, insulated from accountability. Dictators, oligarchs, and corporations now hoard control, convinced they are entitled to rule over billions.
They cling to power through lies: that democracy is about voting every few years, that wealth trickles down, that leadership is inherently superior. In truth, their power comes not from wisdom but from exploitation. They do not lead—they hoard, they hoard, they hoard.
A just society must shatter these illusions. Leadership must be a service, not a throne. Power must be distributed so no one person or group can dominate the rest.
6. Equity Over Equality
Here is another lie they sold us: "Treating everyone the same is fairness." This mantra ignores centuries of oppression and disparity. Early communities knew better. They recognised that fairness means addressing unique needs, providing extra to the sick, the young, the vulnerable; so that everyone thrives.
Modern systems reject this wisdom. They push the myth of meritocracy, ignoring the structural barriers that hold people back. They perpetuate a cruel fantasy: that success is about hard work, and failure is a personal flaw. These lies keep marginalised people fighting uphill battles while the privileged enjoy a rigged game.
True justice is equity. It means redistributing resources, dismantling barriers, and recognising that fairness is not one-size-fits-all.
7. Hospitality is a Duty
Communities once thrived on hospitality. A stranger was welcomed not with suspicion but with care. Sharing food and shelter was not charity—it was duty. Why? Because they understood that every person’s wellbeing strengthens the whole.
But modern societies have poisoned this instinct. They teach us to fear immigrants, demonise the homeless, and hoard what we have. They divide us with borders, fences, and ideologies, making us believe the other is the enemy. Why? Because it keeps us isolated and easy to manipulate.
Rebuilding a just society requires radical hospitality. Welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, shelter the vulnerable—not because it’s "nice," but because it is essential to our shared humanity.
8. Nature is Kin, Not a Resource
Our ancestors saw themselves as part of nature, not above it. Rivers, mountains, animals—all were kin, not commodities. Colonisers and industrialists shattered this relationship, reducing nature to something to conquer, extract, and exploit.
This wasn’t ignorance—it was intentional. If you want to strip a land of its resources, you must first convince people the land has no soul. They replaced sacred forests with mines, rivers with factories, and kinship with profit. And now, we are reaping the whirlwind: a dying planet gasping under the weight of greed.
A just society must rebuild this bond. Nature is not a product; it is life itself. Honour it, protect it, and learn to live in balance once more.
9. Truth Must Be Held Sacred
Truth has always been dangerous to the powerful. Empires rise on lies about who is superior, who deserves wealth, and who must suffer. They rewrite history, suppress facts, and flood the world with propaganda to maintain control.
Today, we are drowning in this machinery. Social media spreads misinformation faster than truth. Politicians weaponise lies to divide us. Corporations distort reality to protect their profits. Truth has been stripped of its value, replaced by what is convenient or profitable.
Reclaiming truth is an act of revolution. A just society values truth above all else, not just as information, but as the foundation of trust, justice, and progress.
10. Joy and Celebration Bind Us Together
Why do oppressive systems hate joy? Because joy is resistance. Festivals, dances, and communal laughter remind us of our humanity and our power. Our ancestors understood this. Even in hardship, they made time to celebrate, because celebration strengthens the bonds that hold communities together.
Today, joy is commodified. It’s sold back to us in the form of products, screens, and shallow distractions. True communal joy—the kind that heals and connects—is buried under the weight of isolation and productivity culture.
A just society prioritises joy. It makes space for communal rituals, where laughter and music bind us together. Joy isn’t frivolous—it is a reminder that we are alive, and that life is worth fighting for.
11. Consensual Affection and Intimacy Are Foundational
Once upon a time, before laws and religions dictated the “right” way to love, human societies thrived on an understanding that consensual affection and intimacy were essential for harmony. Early communities recognised that bonds between people, inclusive of emotional, romantic, and sexual; weren’t just personal; they were critical for maintaining peace and balance within the group. To get along, people needed to respect and nurture each other’s desires, regardless of gender or sex.
In many ways, these early societies were freer than the rigid systems that came later. They understood that intimacy wasn’t about ownership, control, or dominance; it was about mutual care and connection. But as empires grew and power concentrated in the hands of the few, intimacy became weaponised. Marriage turned into a transaction, gender roles became prisons, and people’s bodies were claimed by religion, kings, and capitalism.
This shift broke something fundamental. It replaced consensual, fluid relationships with rigid hierarchies and made love and sex tools of control rather than sources of joy and equity. The scars of this system remain: coercive relationships, repression of queer identities, and a world where consent is too often ignored or undervalued.
A just society, however, learns from the past. It restores the understanding that consensual affection and intimacy; regardless of gender, orientation, or structure; are foundational to fairness. When people are free to connect with others without fear, shame, or coercion, they nurture trust, empathy, and unity in their communities. It’s not just about personal pleasure; it’s about creating a culture where everyone’s humanity is respected and celebrated.
Reclaiming this truth requires us to dismantle the systems that control who and how we love, to centre consent as non-negotiable, and to embrace all forms of consensual connection as vital threads in the fabric of justice. Because when intimacy is free, society thrives.
12. Creativity and Play Are Acts of Survival
In every thriving society, creativity and play have been more than distractions; they’ve been acts of survival. Whether it was through storytelling around a fire, painting on cave walls, or crafting tools with care and ingenuity, our ancestors understood that imagination wasn’t just for fun; it was a way to make sense of the world, to bond with each other, and to dream of better futures.
But as systems of power took hold, creativity was stripped of its collective purpose. Art became a commodity for the wealthy, play was dismissed as childish, and innovation was funnelled into serving profit rather than people. Modern life has turned creativity into a luxury instead of what it truly is: a necessity.
A just society knows better. It understands that creativity and play are how we connect to our humanity and each other. They’re how we explore ideas, push boundaries, and imagine a world that doesn’t yet exist. Play reminds us of joy; creativity reminds us of possibility. Together, they give us the tools to resist, rebuild, and reinvent.
To reclaim this pillar, we must prioritise spaces where art, play, and imagination are accessible to everyone; not just the privileged. We must value the creative spark in all its forms, from a child’s game to a masterful painting, and recognise that in moments of playfulness, we are free. Because without creativity, we stagnate; without play, we forget how to hope. And without hope, we cannot survive.
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As I bring these thoughts to a close, I can’t help but reflect on how much of this is a reminder to myself as much as anyone else. Building a fairer, kinder world isn’t just about ideals or abstract principles, it’s about holding ourselves accountable for the ways we’ve been shaped by, and sometimes complicit in, the systems we want to change.
At Queer The Norm, our mission has always been about challenging the narratives that divide us, creating spaces where people feel seen, and rediscovering the joy and power of collective action. But even with that mission at heart, I know how easy it is to get swept up in the noise and forget the deeper truths that connect us to something greater.
This isn’t just about what we’ve lost; it’s about what we can regain. It’s about remembering the power of community, the wisdom of our ancestors, and the courage to imagine a future rooted in justice and care. It’s a messy, ongoing process; but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that change doesn’t come from waiting for the perfect time. It comes from starting where you are, with what you have, and building something better one small step at a time.
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