Mainstream Media in the West is obviously broken. Yet, the more dysfunctional the industry gets, the more it seems to be denying any wrong doing, blaming anything, from technological progress...
Article
The conversation at the center of this article offers a stark reframing of a familiar critique: Western media and political elites are not merely mistaken or corrupt; they are trapped in a societal addiction that distorts sense-making, perpetuates imperial narratives, and resists the very self-examination it urgently needs. Treating propaganda as a public-health problem rather than merely an informational one reframes solutions: recovery must happen at a collective level, through grief, reparenting, and the humility to be taught by the Global South. That shift—from blaming technology or bad actors to diagnosing a social disease—was the throughline of the exchange and is the vantage point from which the four sections below unfold.
## How to Scale Recovery to a Societal Level?
If propaganda operates like a drug—and the conversation borrows this metaphor not as flippant rhetoric but from lived experience—the immediate question becomes: how do you treat an epidemic whose vectors are newspapers, networks, and institutional prestige? The speakers argued that recovery requires two simultaneous moves: exiting the toxic supply chain of mainstream media and undertaking the inner work that transforms individuals from consumers into responsible citizens.
Exit is practical: diversify information sources beyond the dominant Western brands. But the point was less about subscribing to an ideologically opposite outlet than about breaking monocultural habits of sense-making. The recommendation was to routinely read perspectives from regions and communities that have been historically marginalized by Western gatekeepers. Doing so is not an exercise in contrarianism; it is a cognitive re-calibration. Where mainstream outlets tend to homogenize and sanitize, alternative vantage points fracture received narratives and reveal the human consequences of policies and silences.
Yet changing sources alone does not suffice. Recovery in the personal realm is a long arc of admitting dependency, facing shame, and grieving lost illusions. Scaled up, this implies a civic culture where institutions and citizens develop routines of public grief and truth-telling. The conversation invoked the language of reparenting: societies that have outsourced moral and epistemic authority to technocratic elites must relearn how to nurture maturity across generations. Reparenting here means cultivating institutions that teach children—and adults—how to weigh evidence, tolerate ambiguity, and accept limits to national power and exceptionalism.
This civic recovery also implies rebuilding communal rituals of accountability. In addiction recovery, group confession and mutual help are central because they disrupt isolation and denial. The analogy suggests establishing public forums where elites are exposed to communities they’ve harmed, not merely through transactional charity but through mandated listening and reparative commitments. Such rituals would not be symbolic alone; they should be tied to structural reforms that reduce the rewards of performative expertise and increase the costs of obfuscation.
A final practical step is decentralizing taste-makers and gatekeepers. Today’s media oligopolies function like drug cartels: they control supply, normalize use, and punish withdrawal. Creating a pluralistic ecosystem of local, transnational, and diasporic media—supported by public funding and non-commercial platforms—reduces the risk that any single narrative will dominate. But the conversation was clear: infrastructure alone cannot cure societal addiction. The emotional labor of grieving fantasy and accepting diminished pride is the hard medicine nobody likes to swallow.
## Colonialism: The Story We Refuse to Hear
One of the more urgent threads tied the media-addiction thesis to the unresolved moral architecture of colonialism. The argument posed that Western publics have been kept in comforting stories—of civilizational superiority, of benevolent intervention—that absolve, obscure, and forestall genuine listening. Propaganda does not only manufacture consent for policy; it manufactures amnesia about historical harms and present hierarchies.
This manufactured amnesia works through repetition and omission. Mainstream outlets repeat scripts that frame Western actions as stabilizing, while systematically minimizing the voices of those who bear the costs. The result is a public conversation that cannot see its own role in sustaining global inequality. The suggestion was not only to remember history but to relearn how to empathize across the structural gap it created. This requires shifting moral attention from national exceptionalism to global responsibility, and doing so not as a ritual of guilt but as a form of ethical growth.
Recounting colonial history honestly will be destabilizing: it will entail grieving fantasy narratives about national greatness and exposing the moral compromises that enabled wealth accumulation. The conversation stressed that such grief is a prerequisite for maturity. Without it, calls for reform will remain cosmetic. A re-parented society recognizes that its founding myths include extraction and violence; only then can it move toward reparative policy and epistemic humility.
The media’s role in sustaining this omission is crucial. When outlets promote sanitized narratives, they truncate the public’s moral imagination. Breaking that pattern requires changing who gets to tell stories and ensuring that those stories are embedded in institutions that do not treat marginalized voices as exotic footnotes. Part of decolonizing sense-making is institutional redesign: curricula, archives, and public media must incorporate non-Western epistemologies and historical perspectives in ways that shape civic identity rather than merely add an elective.
## The Western "Samson Doctrine"
A distinctive metaphor from the conversation called Western foreign policy a “Samson Doctrine”: a power that derives legitimacy from possessing an exceptional strength and, convinced of moral superiority, repeatedly uses that strength despite mounting costs. Samson’s tragedy isn’t only hubris; it’s the blindness that comes with believing one’s power guarantees moral clarity. The doctrine manifests today in a pattern of moral certitude combined with a cultural incapacity to listen to those outside the West’s circle.
This doctrine is supported by a performative architecture of experts, think tanks, and media that amplify policy elites. The addiction analogy explains why this damning combination persists: the high of certainty—of being the “adult in the room”—operates like an intoxicant. Leaders and institutions receive social, economic, and reputational rewards for confidently intervening, issuing moral judgments, and framing global events in ways that emphasize Western agency.
Challenging the Samson Doctrine therefore involves disrupting its reward structure. Practices that cultivate humility—mandatory exposure of policymakers to counternarratives, institutional incentives for restraint, and public education that privileges complexity over decisive platitudes—would dilute the intoxicating rush of unilateral moralism. The conversation emphasized that the antidote isn’t weak leadership; it is mature leadership. Strength without self-reflection becomes a vehicle of harm; strength guided by listening and reparative intent becomes a form of stewardship.
The doctrine also plays out domestically: political cultures that lionize executive decisiveness and technocratic management make it harder for democratic deliberation to flourish. Recovery requires both international humility and domestic reforms that revalue deliberative practices—local governance, participatory budgeting, media literacy—that inoculate society against quick-fix narratives and the siren call of confident experts.
## Does the West Need Help from the Global South?
The final section of the conversation pivoted from diagnosis to reciprocit
Transcript
Ex-MSM Journalist Reveals: The West Is
HOOKED To Its Own Propaganda
Mainstream Media in the West is obviously broken. Yet, the more dysfunctional the industry gets, the
more it seems to be denying any wrong doing, blaming anything, from technological progress to
Social Media and Fake-News for their demise. Instead of soul-searching, we get a relentless blame-
game. And this trend is getting worse. After all, Chomsky and Herman, after publishing their book on
“Manufacturing Consent” got at least still interviewed about it on Mainstream Media. These times are
long gone. To help make sense of it, I’ve got today Felix Marquard with me who proposes viewing
Media under the lens of addicition. Felix is himself a former Mainstream Media Journalist with an elite
background and he’s also a recovering drug addict. He recently started a strange kind of anti-
facebook, called Black Elephant. Links: Neutrality Studies substack: https://pascallottaz.substack.com
Goods Store: https://neutralitystudies-shop.fourthwall.com Timestamps: 00:00:00 Introduction 00:
01:27 Addiction, Media & Elite Networks 00:13:05 Healthy Sense-Making vs. Societal Addiction 00:20:
42 The Work of Growing Up: Grieving Our Fantasies 00:27:48 What is the "Heroin" of the Davos
Elite? 00:35:58 How to Scale Recovery to a Societal Level? 00:43:51 Colonialism: The Story We
Refuse to Hear 00:50:21 The Western "Samson Doctrine" 00:54:05 Does the West Need Help from
the Global South?
#Pascal
Mainstream media in the West is obviously broken. Yet the more dysfunctional the industry gets, the
more it seems to deny any wrongdoing, blaming everything from technological progress to social
media and fake news for its demise. Instead of soul-searching, we get a relentless blame game—and
this trend is getting worse. After all, when Chomsky and Herman published their book
*Manufacturing Consent*, they were still invited and interviewed about it on mainstream media.
Those times are long gone. To help us make sense of this development, I’ve got with me today Felix
Marquardt, who proposes viewing media through the lens of addiction. Felix is himself a former
mainstream media journalist with an elite background, and he’s also a recovering drug addict. He
recently started a kind of anti-Facebook called Black Elephant, and he’ll tell us all about it now. Felix,
welcome to the channel.
#Felix Marquardt
Thank you, Pascal. It's really good to be here. Neutrality Studies has been changing me, affecting
my journey, and really displacing me. I'm very grateful to be part of this wacky crew of people.
#Pascal
-- 1 of 15 --
Thank you very much. I'm glad you’re here. We’ve talked before, and I was very impressed by the
way you framed what’s going on with us in the media space. For today, we said we’d connect
addiction, media, and elite networks. So maybe start with what you think is most important—or start
with Black Elephant—and tell us a bit about your journey and how you’re viewing what we’re all
collectively experiencing at the moment.
#Felix Marquardt
I think I can leave Black Elephant for later. I'll start with what you alluded to. You mentioned
*Manufacturing Consent* and the work of Chomsky and Herman. Before them—long before them—
in the 1960s, a somewhat obscure Frenchman of Maltese and Portuguese descent, Jacques Ellul,
wrote a book called *Propaganda*. In that book, he laid the foundation for what Herman and
Chomsky would later do. But he also, in many ways, had an insight they don’t really spend much
time on, which is that propaganda is not merely a tool of manipulation; it’s a sociological trend.
I found this as an addict in recovery. I’ve been grateful to have over a decade without drugs or
alcohol after 25 years of using every day. I saw the parallels between his analysis of the role of
propaganda in our societies—not the ones where we love to point to propaganda, not in *Pravda*,
not in China—but in the societies that claim to be the most free in the world. He was an amazing
man who wrote about many subjects. His favorite readings were Kierkegaard and Marx, which gives
you an idea of his range. He’s often described as a Christian anarchist, which many consider the best
way to define him.
As someone who identifies, in a way, as a Muslim anarchist, I really relate to Ellul for many reasons.
I was also born and raised in France, but my parents are not French. What’s so striking about Ellul—
his most interesting insight, perhaps—is that knowing you’re being propagandized doesn’t help you
get rid of it. It doesn’t help you transcend that state. And that immediately reminded me of
addiction, because addicts, as long as they’re in the process of consumption, are in denial. It’s a very
important part. No one who is in active addiction identifies as an addict.
Very few people do. And those who do are usually at the end—the final stages—just before recovery
or death. That’s why the so‑called 12‑step programs insist so much on identification. Those are
things like Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, and many others. One of the foundations of
those programs is that you sit in a circle and identify yourself: “My name is so‑and‑so, and I am a
drug addict, an alcoholic, or whatever.” It’s very important to recognize it. What’s interesting about
our societies is that, to use the paradigm coined by Varoufakis—the “adults in the room”—we’ve built
a civilization that claims to have the most reasonable, most educated people at its helm.
And that’s a great thing—they’re the adults in the room. But the reality is, we’ve given the keys to
the car to the people who have the best heroin and the best cocaine. I spent a lot of time in your
country of citizenship, going to the World Economic Forum. For many years, I thought, “I’m not an
addict. I’m not an addict because addicts are guys who shoot up on park benches. They’re not
-- 2 of 15 --
hanging out at the World Economic Forum.” I used to advise heads of state, and they don’t hang out
in presidential palaces. That’s what I did. So I wasn’t an addict. And then eventually, in recovery, I
had to recognize that I was.
And then there was this first sort of shift, where I started having this unhealthy pride in being such a
high‑functioning addict. Yes, I was a cokehead, but I was advising very important people—the
masters of the universe, the adults in the room—so that was proof I wasn’t that screwed up. And
eventually it dawned on me that I flourished in those circles, in those places, not in spite of my
addiction to drugs but because of it. The high of power, the high of money, the high of thinking you’
re the hottest thing on earth is very similar to the high you get when you take a couple of lines of
cocaine.
#Pascal
Very similar. Psychologically similar? You mean, like, you have the same physical response—or a
similar physical response—to it?
#Felix Marquardt
I'm not a scientist, but there’s research showing that many things can trigger the same kind of
chemical reactions in us that drugs do. And, you know, there’s adrenaline, for instance. What I
learned was, I used to think drugs were just the illegal things I was hooked on. But eventually, after
I quit those, I realized I was still addicted to the drugs in my own internal medicine cabinet.
#Pascal
Yeah.
#Felix Marquardt
Adrenaline, dopamine, endorphins, and so on. Some of them are healthy, some are really good.
They open me up, make me feel close to others, part of nature—so‑called nature. They make me
understand that I’m just one part of a big metabolism. And there are other drugs in this internal
medicine cabinet that actually separate me from others, that separate me from the metabolism, that
give me the illusion that I’m a kidney and have nothing to do with, you know, the lungs—and that
the lungs can just die, I don’t need them. Which is obviously insane. And I think, to go back to Ellul,
what’s very powerful about his work is that he understands propaganda is not—again, it’s not merely
the work of Joseph Goebbels or, you know, whatever.
It's not all about evil people trying to make you believe lies. Propaganda is something that has
emerged and plays the role of a kind of cement in modern societies—modern societies characterized
by their technological nature. He calls them technician societies, or technical, I guess, in English. And
-- 3 of 15 --
what he means by that is not merely that we're all on our phones—because obviously, in the ’60s, it
was very different—he means something else. He means technological societies, and I would sort of
write it as techno‑logical, are societies where everything is decided according to how efficient it is.
When you put efficiency at the helm of all your decisions, you lose meaning. And what results are
people who are completely lost. They don't believe.
They've been told that God is dead. They've been told that all these—you know, all these things that
gave texture and meaning to their lives—are gone. And so propaganda comes in and gives them a
neat, very simple, very clear understanding of the world, of what's right, of what's wrong. And they
crave this. It's not just that they aren't equipped to see that it's bullshit; it's that they need it. We
need it. And when I say “they,” I mean “we.” That's the other important thing about the addiction
paradigm: addiction is not something that some of us suffer from and others don't. Addiction is
there, and in some form or fashion, we can all fall into it and then try to free ourselves from it. But
it's a constant process. You're never done. It's a predicament rather than a problem.
#Pascal
But society needs sense-making, right? We need to be able to somehow understand our place in the
world. Actually, that’s coincidentally how I introduced this talk too. And we probably need to work
out what’s the difference between an addiction and just a necessity, because I’m addicted to
breathing oxygen—if I stop, I die, right? Yeah. But we wouldn’t frame that as an addiction, whereas
substance abuse and so on we usually classify as that. And if you take that into your metaphor,
where’s the breaking point between healthy sense-making of the world, interpreting meaning, and
what we’re going through now—having handed the car keys to the people who sell and consume the
best heroin?
#Felix Marquardt
So I think, first of all, it's really important for me—I can only speak for myself. And, you know, I
really don't want to project. Obviously, when I say this, it sounds like I'm just projecting my stuff
onto everyone else.
#Pascal
Yeah, but that can be a very healthy exercise in and of itself. So let's not dismiss the healthy part.
#Felix Marquardt
True, true, true. But I would say that, first of all, you have to recognize this is a process. It’s not
something you do and then one day you’re done and enlightened. We’re all constantly going to be
-- 4 of 15 --
subject to propaganda. What we can do is the work—this is how I would define it—to educate
ourselves at the cerebral level, at the cognitive level, but also, at the same time, to do work that has
nothing to do with our intellect.
What I would say is needed to deal with this ceaseless flooding—a kind of cognitive flooding we’re
all subjected to—is, first of all, you need to free yourself from mainstream media, which are literally
like crack cocaine. And I don’t mean “addiction” as a metaphor. I believe, from the bottom of my
heart, that the leading newspapers and media brands in the world are extremely toxic and are real
drugs. They are absolutely very serious drugs. And the proof, for me, is in the pudding—because
without these drugs, we would not be whitewashing genocide. So these are, I mean, this is the
crack, the fentanyl, of our times.
And so, on the one hand, what you need to do is go to as many different sources as possible. You
know, when I speak to French people, I'm always sort of fascinated by their lack of information on
France from people and independent media that are not in France. That is the key. I don't w