What Happens When Hope Becomes Visible

When I look at my friends and connections online, from a European perspective, I see two different ways of coping with the world right now. I know there are more, as some fall between these extremes, but for me, these are the two main categories.

Some of us have gotten used to looking away, stuck in the comfort zone of disorientation. We rather plan a holiday instead. Although we used to believe in flying less. Just as kids hide behind their tiny hands, thinking no one is going to see them standing there right in the center of the room, we are avoiding reality. Not looking allows us the room we need to breathe, letting our private hope arise that maybe (just maybe) everything isn't all that bad.

By contrast, some of us are looking too closely. Drowning in information we absorb online, zooming in on warzone footage, injustice and climate zone realities. We weren’t made to be passive spectators, sitting in our comfortable flats, watching the world burn in paralysis. It is killing our spirit and challenging our ability to cope and react.

Both sides are opposites of the same issue. Both sides are resenting the other. Both coping strategies are paralysis. The 69% of humankind that want and need real systemic changes are hustling away at both ends of the wrong problem.

Ruth Wodak's work shows that the right wing is scaling fear deliberately. The resulting disorientation and helplessness are strategy. And it is working. Not only is this effectively being backed up by billionaires and dangerously strong algorithms, it's also being involuntarily backed up by our inactiveness.

We could also use fear if we wanted to. Climate data is terrifying. But we've chosen to soften it. We are not using it as an activator, but have decided that our good arguments delivered quietly will be enough. Unfortunately this isn't how the world works in 2026.

Isolation isn't accidental. It's actively created. When hope feels personal, it never has to be confronted. When it feels private, it never has to be addressed. When people believe they're the only ones who still care, nothing collective has to change. Again, we are standing in the way of what we are wanting to achieve. What we need is to be swept up. Called out. Needed.

What breaks paralysis isn't more information for those drowning in it, and it isn't ignorance for those looking away. What breaks paralysis is orientation. A clear enough direction that people can recognize themselves in it and move together.

Mamdani encouraged people to reimagine everyday scenarios: What if buses were free? What if rent was capped? What if the city government actually worked for people without lobbyists? He delivered speeches in Urdu, Bangla and Spanish at rallies. He filmed videos at halal food stalls. He didn't just perform relatability, he practiced recognition. People saw themselves in the stories he told.

This is democracy as a living being, not a systemic entity. 

First, he made hope specific. Not "a better city" but "free buses, capped rent." Specific enough to imagine. Concrete enough to recognize.

Second, he made it recognizable. People saw themselves in the languages he spoke, the places he showed up, the stories he told. Not performance. Recognition.

Third, he made it shared. Asking "what if" instead of promising "I will." He didn't own the hope. He made it collective.

Mamdani proved something: hope works when it's visible and collective strategy. Not comfort. Strategy.

The 69% who want change but believe they're alone? You're not alone. And that's not comfort. That's information. Information that changes what's possible.

Fear is powerful because it's shared. Hope becomes powerful the same way. Mamdani didn't invent hope. He made it visible. And suddenly people who thought they were alone realized they weren't.

Hope isn't optional anymore. It's the only strategy that scales.

Stay curious. Stay courageous.