“You’re not immune to propaganda.”
It started as an internet meme. An image of smug superiority meant to mock the gullibility of others. The implication? That you see through the lies, while they are brainwashed sheep. It’s a punchline, a slam dunk, a gotcha.
But here’s the uncomfortable twist: the meme is right. You’re not immune. Neither am I. And the ones who are most convinced might be the most vulnerable of all. But not in the way you think.
Propaganda in 2025 doesn’t look like a gaudy Soviet poster or a boldfaced lie from state TV. It doesn’t need you to believe the wrong thing. It just needs you to stop caring.
We’ve come to associate propaganda with authoritarian states like North Korea and China, where dissent is crushed and information is tightly controlled. In liberal democracies, we like to think the problem doesn’t exist. After all, we have free media, open internet access, and robust political debate. Aren’t we lucky?
But that’s exactly the problem. In open societies, propaganda isn’t about censorship, it’s about saturation. Not brainwashing, but flooding public discourse until truth drowns.
And truth be told, propaganda itself is a slippery term. We treat it as a caricature, something only tyrants use out of the Orwellian playbook. We call it that because we don’t like the message. Yet propaganda isn’t defined by aesthetic or regime, but intent. All political systems shape public perception.
Democracies do it through campaign slogans, patriotic symbols, and institutional reverence. The NHS, the monarchy, even figures like Donald Trump or Jeremy Corbyn are made into vessels of ideology. That doesn’t make the UK authoritarian, of course. It just proves the point: propaganda is everywhere.
It’s the rolling news cycle that makes every story feel like a scandal. It’s the performative tribalism of social media. It’s the endless stream of contradictory hot takes, memes, manipulated clips, and culture war baits. It’s a world where every narrative is spun, every headline feels rigged, and every side insists it’s the only one telling the truth.
This is true propaganda. Not mass conversion to a false ideology. Mass disorientation.
We’ve seen this in Britain. From Brexit to lockdowns to net zero to immigration, public discourse has been shaped less by facts and more by emotional overload. Political parties have learned that shouting louder matters more than speaking sense. Meanwhile, voters are left cycling between outrage and fatigue. Many friends of mine simply don’t care about voting or engaging in politics because they feel tired.
For many, politics has become an exhausting soap opera; something to watch, not something to shape. That’s not healthy or democratic.
And no, it’s not just “the other side.” If you find yourself believing that only your opponents fall for propaganda, congratulations! You’re already in deep.
Propaganda in the 21st century flatters your ego. It tells you that you’re the rational one, the good one, the informed one. And that anyone who disagrees with you must be brainwashed. While it’s a comforting thought to have, it’s also how we stop thinking critically and start playing into the same polarised games that authoritarians love.
Make no mistake: this environment benefits authoritarians, both abroad and at home. The more disillusioned and disengaged the public becomes, the easier it is to consolidate power, bypass scrutiny, and shut down dissent. Real propaganda doesn’t look like a Big Brother-esque poster. It looks like a comment section too toxic to engage with. It looks like a scandal you don’t even bother reading about, because what’s one more headline in a sea of outrage?
It looks like numbness.
That’s a problem for liberals and libertarians alike. It’s easy to think that free speech and open debate will naturally lead to truth. But that only works if people still believe the truth is knowable.
If we want a functioning liberal democracy, we need more than just a free press and speech protections. We need humility, an understanding that everyone is susceptible to manipulation, and that liberty requires more than just cynicism.
Being immune to propaganda doesn’t mean rejecting everything. It means knowing you’re influenceable and choosing to engage anyway. It means understanding that your side can be wrong. That even well-meaning media can distort. That even true facts, repeated a thousand times with the right spin, can be weaponised. And knowing, in the end, that you are still aware.
And yes, even this article is a form of propaganda.
Not because it’s dishonest, but because I’m trying to shape how you see the world. That’s the point. The question isn’t whether you’re being influenced, but whether you notice when you are.
Because the most dangerous thing about propaganda today isn’t that people believe it.
It’s that they believe nothing at all.
