How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Corporate Maoism
A Guide to Our Ugly, Unappealing Future
Welcome to the future, citizen! It’s a brave new world of reduced aesthetics, simplified pleasures, and diminished expectations—a world where our corporate overlords have finally embraced true equality. If you haven’t noticed, the pursuit of beauty, happiness, or anything remotely human has been steadily phased out of modern life. Don’t worry, though. It’s all part of a clever plan to align us with the grand vision of a socially harmonious society where no one can accuse anyone else of being too happy, too attractive, or too traditional.
Yes, it’s all a masterstroke of corporate altruism. Forget about pleasant shopping experiences, functional websites, or advertisements that don’t give you a brief, existential nausea—that was the old world of capitalist excess, where customers were actually given what they wanted. Now, instead, we get what we deserve: ideological purity, served lukewarm in packaging that appears to have been designed by a committee of colorblind nihilists.
Beauty Brands: Because Why Would You Want to Feel Good About Yourself?
Ah, beauty. A concept so ancient and oppressive it had to be uprooted. Take Victoria’s Secret, once a bastion of feminine allure, now a re-education camp of shapeless bras and models who look just like you after a bad night’s sleep. Isn’t it marvelous? Where once women were expected to aspire to some arbitrary standard of attractiveness, they are now encouraged to embrace the practical beauty of unstyled hair, oversized underwear, and a permanent frown that screams, “I, too, have read The Communist Manifesto and found it relatable.”
Gillette joined the party in 2019 with its heartwarming “Toxic Masculinity” ad, suggesting men are, in fact, no better than the hair they shave off. Gone are the days of rugged cowboy masculinity and roaring aftershave commercials that made you think you might someday lasso a wild stallion. Now it’s about raising awareness—and, naturally, raising profits through an act of public virtue-shaming. But really, who wouldn’t want to be guilt-tripped while buying razors?
Ben & Jerry’s: It’s Not Just Ice Cream; It’s a Political Statement
And let’s not overlook Ben & Jerry’s, the ice cream brand that’s less about flavor and more about the revolution. They’ve taken it upon themselves to blend every scoop with a heavy dose of moral superiority. Don’t be fooled by the false lure of “Chunky Monkey”; it’s actually just banana-flavored struggle sessions. But why stop at just the ingredients? Ben & Jerry's has gone the full ideological mile, producing flavors like “Pecan Resist,” a wonderful mix of nuts, chocolate, and righteous indignation.
It’s the perfect ice cream for those nights when you want to cry in front of your TV about the state of the world—though you’re not sure whether you’re crying over the news or the fact that your ice cream is telling you to dismantle the patriarchy.
Product Design: Because Clarity and Functionality Are for Fascists
Now, if you’ve noticed that your favorite websites and apps have become harder to navigate, that’s not a bug—it’s a feature. Amazon, for example, has engineered a fascinating user experience that feels like being lost in a Soviet department store. Every purchase is an adventure through a maze of confusing product recommendations, like a scavenger hunt with no winners and infinite sponsored results. It’s meant to make you think about your choices, which is a great way to practice mindfulness and a convenient excuse for Amazon to sell you more things you didn’t ask for.
And don’t even get me started on the packaging. Why have an attractive design when you could have something that looks like it was printed on recycled cardboard by someone experiencing an existential crisis? Remember, it’s not just about selling a product—it’s about selling a statement. An ugly, underwhelming, and thoroughly demoralizing statement, but a statement nonetheless.
Childlessness: Because the Future Looks Better When You Don’t Have to Raise It
What’s more human than reproducing? Well, almost anything, according to current trends. The messaging these days encourages childlessness as a form of liberation, which is certainly convenient for corporations who would prefer you to spend that extra time and money on their products rather than on baby formula and college funds. Advertisements now suggest you can have it all… provided that “all” doesn’t include children, meaningful relationships, or any semblance of happiness.
It’s a modern twist on Mao’s idea of population control, only instead of mandatory one-child policies, we get “Live your best child-free life” campaigns. Of course, the more enlightened among us know it’s not about not having children, per se—it’s about having enough time to buy more Ben & Jerry’s and scroll through Amazon’s endless aisles of confusing products.
Art and Packaging: Welcome to the Aesthetic Revolution
Ah, yes—art, the last bastion of human creativity. And what a delight it is to see art and product design being used not to inspire, but to chastise. Packaging and branding have evolved into celebrations of mediocrity, with muted colors, jagged designs, and fonts that feel like an optical assault. You see, it’s all about making sure no one feels left out. When everything is equally ugly, no one can claim to have a better product experience than anyone else.
Take brands like Oatly, with its cartons that resemble the scribblings of a depressed 5th grader who just learned about climate change. It’s deliberately unappealing, like a bowl of gruel at a collectivized farm—because nothing says, “We care about you” like making you feel vaguely guilty for drinking oat milk.
The Grand Vision: Corporate Maoism Without the Fun Camps
Yes, we’re finally approaching the endgame: a society where corporations stop pretending to care about what you want and start caring about what they think you should want. No more false promises of individual fulfillment or joy through consumption. Instead, you get exactly what you deserve—a product, a campaign, or an experience designed not to please you, but to correct you.
It’s Maoism, but with a capitalist twist: no Little Red Book, just a little red logo and a few patronizing ads. You won’t have to worry about becoming too happy, too beautiful, or too satisfied with life, because that’s simply not the goal anymore. It’s all about achieving ideological purity by any means necessary, even if it means selling you misery disguised as virtue.
And that, dear citizen, is the most humane thing of all.