We are living through the collapse of the old world, and the quiet construction of a new one. From artificial intelligence and clean energy to bioengineering and digital governance, the core systems that defined the last century are rapidly being dismantled and replaced. But this isn’t just about technology. According to futurist Peter Leyden, we’re at a historic turning point: One of the rare moments in American and global history when everything gets reimagined at once.
Posts tagged 2025
alibaba: Future Consumer 2026: 4 Key Profiles to Know

The Death of Surprise: What WARC’s 2025 Report Won’t Say Out Loud

WARC’s The Future of Programmatic 2025 is a meticulously composed document. The charts are polished. The language is neutral. The predictions are framed as progress.
But read it closely and a deeper truth emerges:
It’s not a report. It’s an autopsy.
What’s dying is unpredictability. Creativity. Humanity.
And we’re all expected to applaud as the corpse is carried off, sanitized and smiling.
We Are Optimizing Ourselves Into Irrelevance
Every year, programmatic becomes more “efficient.” More “targeted.” More “brand safe.”
And with each incremental improvement, something irreplaceable is lost.
We’ve mistaken precision for persuasion.
We’ve traded emotional impact for mechanical relevance.
We’ve built a system that serves the spreadsheet, not the soul.
74% of European impressions now come through curated deals.
Which sounds like order. Until you realize it means the wildness is gone.
No chaos. No accidents. No friction. No magic.
We didn’t refine advertising. We tamed it. And in doing so, we made it forgettable.
Curation Is Not a Strategy. It’s a Symptom.
Let’s stop pretending curation is innovation. It’s not.
It’s fear management. It’s an escape hatch from a system that got too messy.
We created an open marketplace—then panicked when it did what open things do: surprise us.
So we closed it.
We built private marketplaces, multi-publisher deals, curated “quality” impressions.
And we congratulated ourselves for regaining control.
But in truth, we just shrank the canvas. The reach is cleaner, sure. But the resonance is gone.
Personalization Has Become a Prison
We’re shown what the machine thinks we want—again and again—until novelty disappears.
We call it relevance, but what it really is… is confinement.
When every ad is customized to our past behavior, we stop growing. We stop discovering.
We become static reflections of data points.
We aren’t advertising to humans anymore. We’re advertising to ghosts of their former selves.
AI Isn’t Making Ads Safer. It’s Making Them Invisible.
The report praises AI for enhancing brand safety.
But here’s the problem no one wants to name: AI doesn’t understand context.
It understands keywords, sentiment scores, and statistical tone.
So entire stories, entire voices, entire truths are algorithmically scrubbed out—because the machine can’t read between the lines.
It’s not safety. It’s sanitization.
It’s censorship with a dashboard.
We’re not avoiding risk. We’re avoiding reality.
Out-of-Home Might Be Our Last Chance
Digital out-of-home is the only space left that still feels human.
It’s dynamic, unpredictable, environmental. It responds to mood, weather, location.
It doesn’t follow you. It meets you.
It’s flawed. It’s physical. It’s not entirely measurable.
And because of that—it still has soul.
It reminds us that real advertising doesn’t beg for clicks.
It stops you mid-step.
It lingers in your head hours later, uninvited.
The Real Threat Isn’t Bad Ads. It’s Forgettable Ones.
We keep polishing the system, but forget why the system existed in the first place.
Advertising isn’t a math problem.
It’s a cultural force. A punchline. A provocation. A seduction. A story.
And we’ve allowed it to become… efficient.
That should terrify us.
Because efficient ads don’t change minds.
Efficient ads don’t start movements.
Efficient ads don’t get remembered.
Only real ones do.
Messy. Emotional. Imperfect.
Human.
In Case You Skimmed, Read This:
- Curation isn’t strategy. It’s shrinkage.
- AI brand safety is quiet censorship.
- Personalization killed surprise.
- The future of programmatic isn’t what’s next—it’s what’s left.
We didn’t lose the plot. We wrote it out of the story. Stay Curious
One Life Is More Than Enough: A Survival Guide to the Absurdity of 2025

Let’s get this out of the way: I’m not asking for immortality. Not now. Not here. Not on this melting rock with Wi-Fi.
One life is already more than enough. In fact, if there’s a cosmic suggestion box somewhere, I’d like to formally request an early checkout. Nothing dramatic. Just… a quiet fade-out, maybe during a meeting that could’ve been an email.
Because here’s the truth: existing in 2025 feels like being trapped inside a group project with 8 billion people who are just winging it and barely surviving . Our governments are stage plays directed by lobbyists. Our jobs with the help of AI have become meaningless, they now feel like VR simulations of purpose. And the planet? The planet is throwing very obvious signs that it’s done with us—but we keep clapping back with paper straws and LinkedIn posts about ESG goals that most companies do not even follow and they just greenwash
We treat burnout like a badge of honor and unpaid internships like opportunities. Meanwhile, billionaires are trying to leave Earth, which is honestly the first time trickle-down economics has ever made sense.
Let’s start with the jobs.
We’re not working—we’re serving time. We don’t start our days, we brace for them.
Your boss says, “We’re a family,” which is true if your family also gaslights you, forgets your birthday, and schedules 4pm calls titled “Quick Sync” that ruin your will to live. Most of them are just horrible people with money and nothing else.
You write emails that sound like ransom notes:
“Just following up.”
“Circling back.”
“Let me know your thoughts.”
Translation: I’m screaming into the void and hoping someone replies before I lose my health insurance and my sanity.
The dating scene?
It’s not a scene. It’s a digital flea market of trauma responses and filtered delusions. We swipe like gamblers at a slot machine, praying for dopamine. Someone texts “LOL” and you’re supposed to feel loved. Someone ghosts you and you wonder if it’s growth. You spend three weeks texting someone who can’t spell “your” before they vanish like your pension.
The economy?
A satire. A fever dream.
Rent is extremely high in relation to your wage for a glorified closet with “natural light” (read: a window the size of a tortilla). Your neighbor’s an aspiring DJ who believes in himself more than your country believes in healthcare that most governments are now destroying.
You’re paying 9€ for a smoothie that tastes like regret and blended ice. You ask if it has mango. The barista nods solemnly. It doesn’t.
Meanwhile, your bank app reminds you that you spent €80 last week trying to feel something on a bad date, and the rest on food that lies to you.
And the planet?
We are literally watching the world burn—and responding with infographics and tote bags.
Ocean temperatures are boiling. Species are vanishing. And we’re still arguing whether “thoughts and prayers” count as climate policy.
Governments stage press conferences while wildfires stage reality checks. Billionaires build rockets, not reform. And every time something collapses, someone says, “No one could’ve predicted this.”
Really?
Because I’ve seen three Black Mirror episodes and one weather app.
The performance of pretending
We’re all actors now. Pretending it’s fine.
Pretending we’re passionate about digital transformation and AI
Pretending we’re excited about our quarterly goals.
Pretending we’re thriving on “hustle culture” when we’re just afraid to stop and feel the dread crawling up our spines.
We don’t live.
We optimize.
We curate.
We reply-all.
And then, at night, we collapse into beds, doom-scroll until our brains melt, and dream of inbox zero and existential freedom.
So no, I don’t want another life.
I don’t need reincarnation. I need a refund.
One life is already too much paperwork, too many passwords, and too many people saying, “Let’s circle back on that.”
I’ve had enough.
Enough of the charades, the fake people, the collapsing systems, the performative empathy, the inspirational quotes printed on ethically questionable t-shirts.
Enough pretending this is fine. It’s not.
It’s bizarre. It’s broken. It’s brilliant in how absurd it is. And we’re all just improvising while the curtain burns.
So here’s to you, fellow scroller.
You’re not crazy.
The world is.
And you?
You’re just trying to make it to 5pm.
THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO BUY!!! DJT.
Imagine a nation where the highest office is used not to serve the people, but to serve personal interests. Where a president’s words—“THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO BUY!!! DJT”—precede policy reversals that cause markets to surge, raising questions of insider trading and market manipulation.

This isn’t a political thriller. It’s our current reality.
On the morning of April 9, 2025, former President Donald Trump took to his platform, Truth Social, and made a declaration that would ripple across global markets. Mere hours later, he announced a 90-day pause on newly imposed tariffs—a policy reversal so sudden, so financially beneficial to anyone with foresight, that it sent the S&P 500 soaring by 9.5%. Billions were made in hours.
Coincidence? Maybe. But let’s be honest with ourselves: If any other leader had acted in such a manner, would we remain silent? Would we accept this erosion of democratic norms and economic integrity?
We are not witnessing bold leadership—we are witnessing a game of power and profit played at the highest level, one that threatens the very foundation of public trust. And what’s worse, it’s unfolding right in front of us, cloaked in bravado and distraction.
This Is Bigger Than One Man

This isn’t about red vs. blue. It’s about right vs. wrong.
What we’re seeing is a convergence of power, profit, and policy in the hands of one individual who has shown time and again a willingness to blur ethical lines for personal gain. A man who owns stock in his own company—DJT—while simultaneously holding the power to influence markets, policies, and public behavior.
Imagine if any CEO tweeted about their own company hours before a massive stock surge driven by a policy change they controlled. Would that not be investigated? Would that not spark outrage?
And yet, we treat it differently when it comes from a former president who continues to dominate the political stage. Why?
The Erosion of Trust
When the line between governance and grift becomes indistinguishable, the result is a collapse in public faith. If citizens believe that markets are rigged and leaders are self-dealing, why should they follow the rules? Pay their taxes? Participate in democracy?
Democracies don’t die in dramatic coups. They erode slowly—bit by bit—as public trust is replaced with cynicism, and institutions become tools of the powerful rather than safeguards for the people.
That’s the true cost of what’s unfolding—not just billions shifted in markets, but the quiet corrosion of belief in the system itself.
The Rule of Law Must Apply to All
Some legal experts argue that Trump’s post doesn’t meet the narrow definition of insider trading. After all, he didn’t leak non-public information to a friend over lunch. He shouted it from the rooftop.
But that’s exactly the problem. We’ve reached a point where even blatant conflicts of interest are dismissed because they don’t fit the textbook definition of illegality.
When the laws can’t—or won’t—catch up to the abuse of power, the people must.
We must ask: Is the system broken, or is it simply working as designed—to protect those at the top while punishing those without access?
This Is a Wake-Up Call
It’s time to awaken to the gravity of these actions. To recognize that our democracy is not self-sustaining—it demands participation, scrutiny, and accountability. Power unchecked becomes tyranny. Profit unregulated becomes plunder.
So what can we do?
We can demand real investigations—not performative hearings, but thorough, independent oversight.
We can elect leaders who value public service over personal enrichment.
We can push for reforms in financial transparency, conflict-of-interest rules, and real-time financial disclosures for public officials.
And most importantly, we can stop pretending this is normal.
Because it’s not.
This is a defining moment.
Not because one man tweeted about a stock—but because of what we choose to do next.
Let history say we were awake.
Earth, Inc: Why Being Human Feels Like a Full-Time Job We Never Applied For

We wake up already behind. Eyes half-open, we scroll through a feed that makes us feel ugly, poor, and late to everything. We swallow coffee like medicine, show up to jobs we don’t care about, perform tasks no one will remember, breathe in air that tastes like exhaust, and somehow call this ‘normal.’
Welcome to Earth, 2025. A spinning rock powered by Wars, Wi-Fi , collective burnout and broken economies. Where we’re all supposed to smile, hustle, and pretend this is fine.
Can Someone Please Turn It Off?

We live in a world where silence feels illegal. Pings, dings, likes, shares, breaking news, breaking hearts—it’s endless. Our brains weren’t designed for this much noise. Every scroll chips away at our attention span, our sanity, our ability to just be.
Try logging off, and suddenly you’re irrelevant. Try unplugging, and people ask if you’re okay. The algorithm replaced the neighborhood, but it doesn’t ask how you are—it just wants to know what keeps you addicted.
Tired is the New Normal

Somewhere along the way, rest became suspicious. If you’re not grinding, you’re falling behind. Capitalism taught us to monetize our hobbies, track our sleep, and brand our personalities. We’re human beings turned into human doings.
Productivity is the new religion, burnout the new baptism. Everyone’s exhausted, but no one wants to admit it out loud because rest doesn’t pay the bills—and worse, it looks lazy on LinkedIn.
Earth is on Fire (But Hey, Nice Selfie)

Meanwhile, outside our filtered lives, the world is literally burning. Floods, fires, rising seas, wars —Mother Nature’s on full meltdown mode. We’re told to go vegan and recycle while billion-dollar companies pollute entire ecosystems with impunity.
It’s not that we don’t care. It’s that caring hurts. We’re overwhelmed, numbed out, frozen between guilt and helplessness. The apocalypse has become just another trending topic.
Together, Alone

Loneliness is now a side effect of everything. We have more ways to connect and less real connection. Friends become followers, communities become comments, and conversation becomes content.
We’re divided by design—fed different realities by different algorithms. Suspicion is profitable. Outrage is viral. Unity? Too boring for the feed.
Progress with a Price Tag
We were promised a better world through tech. What we got was digital dopamine, facial recognition anxiety, and kids who ask Siri more questions than their parents.
Sure, AI writes poetry now—but can anyone still feel something? We’ve got infinite scroll, but no direction. Hyper-efficiency, but zero intimacy. We’re advancing, but are we okay?
Let’s be real—this isn’t working for the majority of us

Life shouldn’t feel like a survival game with push notifications constantly paying bills. The unbearable part isn’t that things are broken—it’s that we keep pretending they’re not.
So what if we stopped pretending?
What if we dropped the performance and said, “This version of life? No thanks.” What if we unplugged, even for a moment, and dared to imagine something softer, slower, more human for everyone?
Not a utopia. Just a world where breathing and existing isn’t a luxury for the few.
A world where we remember we were never meant to live like this.
And maybe—just maybe—that’s where everything begins to change.
The Politics of Short-Term Thinking: Why the Future Is Always Someone Else’s Problem
Imagine a house on fire. The flames are spreading, the walls are crumbling—but instead of putting it out, the people in charge start debating who gets credit for calling 911. That’s what politics looks like in 2025.
Everywhere you look, the world is full of problems that didn’t have to be this bad. The climate crisis, wealth inequality, geopolitical instability—none of these issues appeared overnight. They were neglected, ignored, or deliberately postponed in favor of election-cycle politics.
- Governments kick climate deadlines decades down the road.
- Corporate lobbyists stall regulations that could prevent another financial collapse.
- Leaders play political games instead of solving skyrocketing housing and healthcare costs.
And when people ask why, the answer is always the same: “We’ll get to it later.”
Well, later is here. And we are paying the price for a system that only looks four years ahead when the problems we face demand generational thinking.
How Short-Term Politics Is Destroying the Future
If 2025 has made one thing clear, it’s that short-term politics isn’t just frustrating—it’s actively dangerous.
The Climate Crisis Is No Longer a Future Problem
- Wildfires, heatwaves, and floods aren’t warnings anymore—they’re happening right now.
- Carbon reduction targets keep getting pushed back, as if nature cares about our deadlines.
- Fossil fuel companies are still raking in record profits while leaders make empty pledges.
The Economy Works for the Few, Not the Many
- The wealth gap in 2025 is the highest it has been in modern history.
- Corporate tax breaks flow freely, but workers still fight for basic wages.
- Governments spend billions bailing out industries but can’t find the funds for universal healthcare.
- The majority of people can not afford food or housing
Democracy Is on Life Support
- People trust politicians less than ever, and can you blame them?
- Election cycles reward cheap promises over real solutions.
- Authoritarianism is creeping back into mainstream politics, fueled by public exhaustion and disillusionment.
- Wars and conflicts almost everywhere around the planet
All of this was preventable. All of this was avoidable. But instead of tackling problems head-on, politicians keep playing for votes while the world burns—sometimes literally.
Why Politicians Only Think in Four-Year Cycles
The reason we’re stuck in this mess is simple: long-term solutions don’t win elections.
- Voters want results now, not in 20 years.
- Political parties cater to what’s popular today, not what’s necessary tomorrow.
- The media thrives on crisis after crisis, not boring policy discussions about sustainability.
So, what do politicians do?
They focus on:
✅ Short-term tax cuts to boost approval ratings.
✅ Infrastructure projects that look good rather than last long.
✅ Deflecting responsibility onto the next administration.
And let’s be honest—we let them do it.
We reward politicians for temporary relief over lasting change. We fall for the same soundbites every election season. We complain, we rage, but we rarely demand accountability that stretches beyond an election cycle.
This Has Happened Before—And It Never Ends Well

History has a way of repeating itself. The worst disasters of the past weren’t just caused by bad decisions—they were caused by leaders who refused to act when it mattered most.
- The 2008 financial crisis—Experts warned about reckless banking practices for years before the economy collapsed. No one listened.
- The rise of authoritarian regimes in the 20th century—Politicians underestimated radical movements until it was too late.
- The pandemic response—Governments ignored the warning signs, then scrambled in panic mode while millions suffered.
Every time, we look back and ask: How did they not see it coming?
But right now, in 2025, we do see it coming. We see crises forming everywhere, and still, leaders are making the same mistakes—playing political chess while the world teeters on the edge.
Breaking the Cycle: What Happens Next Is Up to Us
If politicians won’t think beyond the next election, we have to force them to.
What Can We Do?
1️⃣ Call Out the Short-Term Lies
- If a politician pushes a policy that sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
- Stop falling for quick fixes that kick problems further down the road.
2️⃣ Stop Rewarding Leaders Who Only Think in Poll Numbers
- If a leader only talks about the next four years and not the next 40, they aren’t a leader.
- Demand long-term policy commitments and hold them to it.
3️⃣ Reimagine What Leadership Looks Like
- Real leaders take unpopular stances because they care about the future, not just their career.
- If a politician is too afraid to lose an election to do the right thing, they shouldn’t be in power to begin with.
4️⃣ Invest in Political Education
- The more people understand why these problems exist, the harder they are to manipulate.
- Demand accountability, not empty promises.
The Future Is Being Decided Right Now
If we keep rewarding short-term thinking, the future will always be someone else’s problem.
But the truth is, we are the generation paying the price for the short-term politics of the past.
The only question is: Will we keep making the same mistake?
Because if we don’t demand better now, the next generation won’t even have the luxury of asking.