Philémon Cimon – Julie July from Audiogram on Vimeo.
Philémon Cimon – Julie July from Audiogram on Vimeo.
” target=”_blank”>Philémon Cimon
directed and animated by Agathe Bray-Bourret and Mathilde Corbeil
Julie July was originally published on The Curious Brain
Romeo and Juliet in 30 seconds for McDonald’s “bite-sized video project.” via thedailywhat
On the morning of January 6, 2021, the world watched as a mob stormed the U.S. Capitol. It was a moment of reckoning—chaos unleashed in the heart of the world’s most celebrated democracy.
Some called it a rebellion, others an insurrection. But to an ancient Greek historian named Polybius, it would have been something else entirely: inevitable.
More than 2,000 years ago, Polybius introduced a concept that few remember today, but whose relevance has never been greater: Anakyklosis—the Cycle of Political Evolution. It’s the idea that all governments, no matter how just or noble, are doomed to fall into predictable patterns of corruption, decay, and rebirth. It’s a cycle we have seen time and again, from the fall of Rome to the rise of authoritarian populism in the 21st century.
And if history tells us anything, it’s that the cycle is turning once more in 2025.
Polybius laid out the six stages of government like a tragic script, one that civilizations unknowingly follow, again and again:
Sound familiar? It should. Because right now, the world’s great democracies are teetering on the edge of ochlokratia—mob rule. The signs are all around us in 2025 and maybe earlier than that!
History doesn’t repeat, but it does rhyme. Consider the fall of the Roman Republic:
By the time Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon in 49 BCE, Rome had already crossed a point of no return. Democracy had rotted from within, paving the way for empire.
Now, look around in 2025. The warning signs are eerily similar:
Like Rome before it, modern democracy is not dying from external threats. It is crumbling from within—now at an accelerated pace thanks to technology.
Polybius never could have predicted social media, but if he had, he would have seen it as the ultimate accelerator of political decay.
In 2025, the situation has worsened. AI-driven content manipulation, hyper-personalized propaganda, and algorithm-driven outrage cycles have turned democracy into a battleground of perception over reality. Deepfake videos, voice clones, and AI-generated political figures blur the line between truth and fiction. The digital public square, once seen as a beacon of democratic engagement, has become an ecosystem of rage-fueled disinformation, rewarding extremism over nuance, engagement over truth.
And so we find ourselves in the final stage of democracy—the moment where people, manipulated by demagogues, AI-driven propaganda, and digital algorithms, turn against the very system meant to protect them.
If the ancient Greeks were right, the natural next step is a return to authoritarian rule—a strongman rising from the ashes, promising to “fix” the broken system, but at the cost of freedom.
But history is not destiny. The cycle is a warning, not a prophecy.
Democracies do not fail overnight. They erode, piece by piece, as citizens grow complacent, as leaders exploit fear, as institutions weaken under the weight of corruption. And yet, history has also shown that the fate of a nation is not written in stone—it is written by those who refuse to let history repeat itself.
The solution does not lie in nostalgia for the past, but in rebuilding trust, strengthening institutions, and restoring civic engagement. It lies in resisting the allure of simple answers to complex problems. It lies in demanding accountability from leaders, media, and ourselves.
In 2025, it also means tackling the AI-driven erosion of democracy, ensuring that technology serves the people rather than manipulates them. We must regulate AI in politics, educate citizens on digital literacy, and push for transparent governance in an age where deception has never been easier.
Polybius gave us the diagnosis. The question now is: Will we choose a different ending?
The forces of history are powerful, but they are not absolute.
As Martin Luther King, Jr1., once said, “The arc of the moral universe may bend toward justice, but it does not bend on its own.” We, the people, must be the ones to bend it.
Because democracy is not a given. It is a choice. And that choice is ours to make—before history that always tends to repeat itself makes it for us.
Imagine applying for a job and receiving a rejection letter—not from a person, but from an algorithm. It doesn’t explain why, but behind the scenes, the system decided your resume didn’t “fit.” Perhaps you attended an all-women’s college or used a word like “collaborative” that it flagged as “unqualified.”
This isn’t a dystopian nightmare—it’s a reality that unfolded at Amazon, where an AI-powered recruiting tool systematically discriminated against female applicants. The system, trained on historical data dominated by male hires, penalized words and phrases commonly associated with women, forcing the company to scrap it entirely.
But the tool’s failure wasn’t a one-off glitch. It’s a stark example of a growing problem: artificial intelligence isn’t neutral. And as it becomes more embedded in everyday life, its biases are shaping decisions that affect millions.
AI systems learn from the data they’re given. And when that data reflects existing inequalities—whether in hiring, healthcare, or policing—the algorithms amplify them.
These systems don’t operate in isolation. They scale human bias, codify it, and make it harder to detect and challenge.
Unlike human errors, algorithmic mistakes carry an air of authority. Decisions made by AI often feel final and unassailable, even when they’re deeply flawed.
This makes machine bias uniquely dangerous. When an algorithm decides who gets hired, who gets a loan, or who gets arrested, the stakes are high—and the consequences are often invisible until it’s too late.
AI doesn’t create bias—it reflects it. But the blame doesn’t lie solely with the machines. It lies with the people and systems that build, deploy, and regulate them.
Technology doesn’t just reflect the world we’ve built—it shows us what needs fixing. AI is powerful, but its value lies in how we use it—and who we use it for.
The rise of AI bias isn’t inevitable. With intentional action, we can create systems that reduce inequality instead of amplifying it.
But these solutions require collective will. Without public pressure, the systems shaping our lives will continue to reflect the inequities of the past.
It reflects the values, priorities, and blind spots of the society that creates it.
The question isn’t whether AI will shape the future—it’s whose future it will shape. Will it serve the privileged few, or will it work to dismantle the inequalities it so often reinforces?
The answer lies not in the machines but in us.
NEVER FORGET ! AI is a tool. Its power isn’t in what it can do—it’s in what we demand of it. If we want a future that’s fair and just, we have to fight for it, all of us!
What if I told you that every thought you’ve had today, every decision you’ve made, wasn’t entirely your own? Imagine a puppeteer pulling invisible strings, crafting a reality so convincing that you believe you’re in control. This is not a dystopian novel. This is the world we live in, where governments have mastered the art of manipulation so profoundly that most people never even see it.
In 1951, a young woman named Elizabeth Bentley stood before the House Un-American Activities Committee and confessed to being a Soviet spy. She didn’t do it for fame or glory—she did it because she had seen firsthand how governments manipulate truth, twisting it to fit their agendas. “They don’t just hide the truth,” she said. “They make you believe the lie.”
Governments worldwide have taken this principle and refined it into a science. You don’t need chains when the mind is your prison.
Think back to the earliest days of human history. Fear of predators kept our ancestors alive. But today, fear isn’t about survival; it’s about control. Governments exploit this primal emotion, creating boogeymen to justify their actions.
Take the 2008 financial crisis. As people lost homes and jobs, fear swept through the world. Governments stepped in, promising stability through bailouts and austerity. But who truly benefited? The banks that caused the crisis in the first place. Meanwhile, ordinary citizens bore the brunt, their fears expertly manipulated to accept the unacceptable.
Julius Caesar perfected the strategy of “divide and conquer,” but today’s leaders have taken it to new heights. Social media is their battleground, and we’re the soldiers, fighting wars we didn’t start.
Consider the Cambridge Analytica scandal, where personal data was weaponized to stoke division. Entire elections were swayed by targeted disinformation, leaving fractured societies in their wake. But while we argue over who’s right and who’s wrong, the real puppeteers quietly pull the strings, securing their power unchallenged.
Living under constant manipulation doesn’t just rob you of freedom—it erodes your very sense of self. Edward Snowden, the whistleblower who exposed mass surveillance programs, warned, “A child born today will grow up with no conception of privacy. They’ll never know what it means to have a private moment to themselves. And that’s a problem because privacy is what allows us to determine who we are and who we want to be.”
This isn’t just about data or privacy. It’s about your identity, your humanity, your family, you, your legacy, your future, the future of your loved ones!
So, what can you do in the face of such overwhelming control? The answer lies in understanding that knowledge is power. The first step to breaking free is to see the cage.
As George Orwell famously wrote, “In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” The most dangerous thing you can do in a manipulated world is to think for yourself. The stakes are high, but the power to change the game has always been in your hands.
It’s time to cut the strings.
Words by Greta Thunberg.
Animation + Site by Hook.
Music Composed by Julia Piker
On July 20, 1969, an estimated 530 million people from around the world watched the Apollo 11 moon landing on television.
Landing on Airwaves
Documentary-Short
Directed: Jonathan Napolitano
