By Ines Garcia (Y12)
Note: In this image, Trump says, “Are you still talking about Jeffrey Epstein?” to a reporter
For hundreds of years, humans have gathered in the main streets of their towns or outside parliament buildings to express their dissatisfaction with their current government. Sometimes these uprisings led to regime change; sometimes they led to unintended consequences, which would even leave people worse off than before they had made their anger public. Either way, people still vocalised their dissent and took to the streets in an attempt to inspire change.
In 1989, the people living in East Germany expressed their desire for basic freedoms and democratic reforms by marching through Leipzig, chanting slogans like “We are the people” and “No violence”. More and more Germans began to join the protest, with hundreds of thousands of citizens united by their collective desire to live under a new, non-authoritarian government. On November 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall was opened, and these mass protests, though not the sole factor, were ultimately the driving force behind its fall.
Now, moving forward to January 30th, 2026, the US Department of Justice’s release of the 3.5 million files, which we refer to as The Epstein Files, contained images, videos, and email threads that unearthed just how vast Jeffrey Epstein’s sex-trafficking operation was, as well as his many connections to wealthy and influential individuals. Another source of public outrage is Epstein’s connections to British nobility, former (and current) US presidents, CEOs of major companies, and many more powerful individuals. These ties raised serious questions about corruption and suggested that this trafficking ring was built and maintained with the help of many elite figures around the world.
So why didn’t we see the furious American public protest in comparable numbers for the prosecution and investigation of officials and others explicitly mentioned in the files? Why wasn’t there an uprising when we learned that the DOJ is holding on to an estimated 2.5 million files? The absence of a concentrated rebellion doesn’t mean that we’re ignorant or indifferent; it’s just that our world is no longer the same as it once was. There are reasons as to why we haven’t seen a million citizens gathered outside the White House chanting “We are the people,” and these reasons, as with many of our current global affairs, have a lot less to do with the people who make up our society and a lot more to do with those who have created it.
There is a model in political science called the Overton Window; it is roughly defined as the range of ideas and arguments that are politically accepted by the mainstream population at a given time. If you think about a double-headed arrow, on either extreme there is what we view as unthinkable; The Overton window sits in the middle. Our view on what is acceptable, or rather what we as a society are willing to tolerate, is not fixed; it shifts and changes with time. There are significant factors that somewhat subconsciously shift our window so that, with time, things we once deemed outrageous become only less and less concerning. This concept may sound a little far-fetched or bizarre, but if you think about the way you once reacted to the first images or news headlines of the Russo-Ukrainian war or the genocide in the Middle East, for example, compared to how you feel when hearing the latest about the casualties and suffering, there is a significant disparity. I personally was disgusted by this realization. Because while I care deeply about these issues, I can ultimately admit that my brain no longer had the same response to the news as time passed.
Now, despite the more abstract nature of this concept, which may make it difficult to grasp, the factors that help explain why our outrage fades over time may be easier to understand. The first factor has become increasingly more relevant: desensitization. The fact that in this day and age we have footage of horrific events and war crimes at our disposal cannot be ignored when exploring what has changed in our society. This is not to say that the consequences of war should be hidden or kept in the dark, but to better understand how our constant exposure can contribute to our growing detachment.
Our repeated exposure to alarming behaviour on the internet has led to a form of habituation. In December 2024, Brian Thompson, CEO of UnitedHealthcare, was shot. His death was broadcast around the world, and only 10 months later we would see another death televised: that of political commentator Charlie Kirk. Once the Epstein Files were released and people began to make sense of the horrors committed by Epstein and other associates, these written testimonies and still images were harder to engage with, as videos of fatal shootings and violent detentions from ICE agents circulate through feeds.
The fast-moving pace that social media algorithms have made us accustomed to has also had a significant impact. After months of back-and-forth between American citizens and some officials over the release of the documents, The Epstein Files were made available to the public. However, the release of these documents was overwhelming by design: 3.5 million files that are difficult to navigate and understand are made available all at once. As a result, journalists struggled to comb through all the information, delaying the immediate reporting that we have all come to expect. To go through and comprehend the content of the files requires time and attention that the average person does not have. Needing to rely on snippets of information relayed through social media is what most people resorted to in the months following the release. With the public not interacting with the source material directly, trust is left with news outlets or content creators to provide a summary of the content. When another international crisis emerges, such as the war on Iran, and the headlines move to the next thing, it becomes easier for us to slowly forget the cruelty those women and children lived through.
In this context, it’s useful to look at the past as evidence that the tactic of distraction from political issues by governments is not a new one. In the Roman Empire, the public was given free food and entertainment to keep them content and docile. This strategy, criticised by the poet Juvenal, who famously referred to it as “bread and circuses,” can be seen in our modern world as well. However, our distractions have become a lot more passive, and our reliance on modern forms of escapism to avoid truly feeling the weight of the many issues around the world has led to a collectively emotionally numb public.
I also feel it’s worth noting that, in recent years, some attempts at structural reform through protesting have failed and, again, through social media, these failures to make any significant impact are amplified. This creates a sense of helplessness which, combined with the increasingly popular view that protesting and demonstrating is “performative” and done to appear morally good or caring rather than out of genuine concern, has also had an impact.
The extreme divide between the average citizen is visible through online discussions where opposing views are immediately undermined and critiqued, labelled as simply “right” or “wrong”. These unproductive “debates” keep the conversation centered around differing political views rather than criticising the institutions, corporations or governments that may be the root cause of the problems discussed.
So what does all this mean? Are we doomed? Are we forced to live our lives in a state of complete helplessness, watching the world burn as our brains slowly lose focus?
Well, not necessarily.
Right now, students in France are making their voices heard, demonstrating nationwide for more resources and staff in public schools. At first, it seems that their pleas were not acknowledged, but recently they have gained the government’s attention. The Education Ministry is now more open to hearing from students and staff. And though the fight is certainly not over, the French public’s persistence in their basic demands for an education system that allows them to learn is certainly affecting French politics and will need to be properly addressed by the government.
