few figures keep it real quite like Saint Mary.

In a world full of noise, few figures keep it real quite like Saint Mary.

as such,

here is a playful, meme-inspired on Mary as a Saint, blending the revered with a Ronnie-boy-esque,

with all due respect. Ronnie boy is just turning her into a figure of holiness using humour, in this modern age to be retaining her core strength and grace and still find local resonance, balance doing the work, with that French sorta “Blessed are the Chill, for They Shall Inherit the Earth.”

Mary’s approach to life? Grace under pressure. While Joseph was out here cracking dad jokes about carpentry, she was keeping the family on track, nurturing the next saviour without needing to broadcast her accomplishments.

Foreign aid has long been a subject of debate, with discussions oscillating between its role as a humanitarian lifeline and its function as a vehicle for donor countries' economic interests. Noam Chomsky, a prominent critic, contends that U.S. foreign aid often serves to bolster domestic corporations under the guise of altruism.

Chomsky argues that foreign aid is not purely humanitarian but serves the interests of U.S. corporations.

This can be fact-checked by looking at where the money allocated for foreign aid ends up.

Fact-Check:

According to USAID (United States Agency for International Development), a significant portion of foreign aid is tied to contracts with U.S. companies. For example, in many aid programs, U.S. goods and services are required to be purchased, ensuring that the aid money cycles back into the U.S. economy. Reports from Development Initiatives suggest that in some cases, as much as 70-80% of U.S. aid is “tied” to American products or services.

While this doesn’t negate the fact that aid provides necessary resources to recipient countries, it supports Chomsky’s claim that U.S. companies are often primary beneficiaries of foreign aid funds.

Chomsky has long maintained that foreign aid is often used to further geopolitical objectives rather than purely humanitarian goals.

Historical data supports this. During the Cold War, the U.S. provided aid to countries in exchange for political alignment against the Soviet Union.

The Marshall Plan after World War II is another example: the U.S. provided aid to Western Europe partly to rebuild economies, but also to prevent the spread of communism. Aid was not about altruism; it was a strategic tool to align Europe with U.S. capitalist interests by ensuring that labor movements and left-leaning political groups were suppressed in favor of pro-business governance​ Chomsky Truthout.

The same pattern has repeated itself in regions like Latin America, where foreign aid has been leveraged to maintain regimes friendly to U.S. economic and political interests, often at the expense of local democratic movements. In countries like El Salvador, the U.S. supported military dictatorships under the guise of providing stability, even when these regimes were committing atrocities. Aid flowed to governments that repressed peasant organizations and democratic groups because they threatened U.S. control over the region’s political and economic structures​Chomsky.

Chomsky and others have pointed out how foreign aid can exacerbate corruption in recipient countries, further entrenching local elites who use these funds to maintain their grip on power. Rather than fostering genuine development or democracy, aid becomes a tool for these elites to enrich themselves while keeping the populace in a state of dependence. This creates a vicious cycle where aid fuels the very corruption it is meant to combat​universityofleeds.github.io.

A particularly insidious aspect of this process is how aid programs are often framed by local elites as being for the benefit of the donor country, allowing them to deflect blame for local failures onto external powers. This creates a narrative of victimhood, where external manipulation is emphasized over local accountability, deepening public cynicism and disillusionment ​Truthout.

Chomsky’s work also taps into broader themes of control and subjugation. The structural hierarchies that benefit from foreign aid are not merely economic or political but psychological as well. People often prefer stability, even at the cost of subjugation, because the unknown—represented by radical reform or the dismantling of corrupt systems—poses too great a threat. This plays into a slave-seeking mentality, where reforms, even well-intentioned ones, often serve to reinforce existing power structures rather than dismantling them​ Chomsky.

More recently, countries like Israel and Egypt receive substantial aid as part of peace agreements or to maintain regional stability, supporting the idea that aid is often politically motivated. In fact, Congressional Research Service reports indicate that the U.S. prioritizes foreign aid to nations of strategic importance (such as military allies or countries in volatile regions).

Chomsky’s argument center’s on the idea that aid programs shift the financial burden onto the U.S. taxpayer while benefitting U.S. corporations.

Fact-Check:

The federal budget for foreign aid is relatively small compared to other expenditures, comprising about 1% of the total budget. However, the allocation of these funds is revealing. A significant portion goes to contracts with private companies for goods and services needed for aid delivery, including medical supplies, food, and infrastructure development. This means that much of the taxpayer money allocated to aid flows back into the U.S. economy via corporate contracts.

For instance, a report by the Center for Global Development found that U.S. companies involved in defense, agriculture, and infrastructure receive billions of dollars in contracts related to foreign aid programs. In effect, the U.S. taxpayer funds both foreign assistance and corporate profits.

Contextualizing with Data:

While foreign aid is indeed valuable for humanitarian purposes and international relations, the structure of U.S. aid programs shows that they often benefit U.S. corporations. The “tied aid” system ensures that much of the aid allocated ends up in the hands of American businesses. Even when aid is directed at humanitarian goals, a significant portion of the money flows back into the U.S. economy through contracts.

Chomsky’s criticism that U.S. foreign aid serves corporate interests holds up under scrutiny, though it’s important to acknowledge that aid still plays an essential role in providing relief to nations in need. The data supports the notion that foreign aid serves a dual purpose: humanitarian assistance and the maintenance of economic and political interests. The balance between these goals remains a subject of debate.

scoffing at corruption “over there” while ignoring systemic issues “here”

Art and poetry have long served as mediums to challenge societal norms and expose underlying corruptions. For instance, the Dadaist movement in the early 20th century utilized absurdity and satire to critique the senselessness of war and the conformity of bourgeois society. Similarly, poets like Langston Hughes and Maya Angelou have used their work to highlight social injustices and the resilience of the human spirit in the face of oppression.

Ludwig Wittgenstein, a 20th-century philosopher, proposed that philosophy should be approached with the same creativity and expressiveness as poetry. He believed that philosophical ideas could be conveyed more effectively through poetic language, which captures the nuances and complexities of human experience. Wittgenstein's own writing style, particularly in his "Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus," reflects this approach, aiming to show the limits of language and the ineffable aspects of reality MIT Press Direct.

Anarchism, as a political philosophy advocating for a stateless society based on voluntary cooperation and mutual aid, has persisted throughout history as a response to perceived systemic corruption and the inherent flaws in human nature. Its continual emergence underscores a fundamental human desire to challenge authority and seek equitable social structures.

Historical Context and Philosophical Foundations

The roots of anarchism can be traced back to ancient civilizations, where individuals questioned the legitimacy of rulers and the structures of power. However, it wasn't until the 19th century that anarchism began to coalesce into a distinct movement. Thinkers like Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, who famously declared "Property is theft," critiqued the existing social order and proposed alternatives based on mutualism and federalism. The Paris Commune of 1871 further exemplified anarchist principles in action, emphasizing federalism and workers' associations The Anarchist Library.

Human Nature and the Propensity for Corruption

Corruption, defined as the abuse of entrusted power for private gain, is a phenomenon that has afflicted societies globally Transparency International. Some scholars argue that corruption is an intrinsic aspect of human nature, manifesting in various forms across different cultures and historical periods. This perspective suggests that individuals, when placed in positions of power, may inherently seek to exploit that power for personal benefit. The First Dynasty of Egypt (3100–2700 BC) already faced issues of corruption, indicating its deep historical roots The Conversation.

Philosophers like Jean-Jacques Rousseau contended that humans are inherently good but become corrupted by societal influences, particularly through the development of private property and social inequality 1000-Word Philosophy. This viewpoint aligns with anarchist critiques of hierarchical structures and the concentration of power.

Are We Truly Free, or Slaves to a System?

In today’s world, the concept of reform is often touted as the ultimate answer to every form of societal, economic, and political dysfunction. Be it governance, education, health care, or global diplomacy—every sector is in a constant state of flux, each reform framed as a step toward liberation.

But behind this seemingly optimistic quest for change, a darker question looms. Are we really reforming our systems to make them better for all, or are we simply reconfiguring who holds the power?

At the heart of this discourse lies the uncomfortable reality: that even as we strive for freedom, we are constantly drawn back into new systems of subjugation. In what may seem like a slave-seeking impulse, society often reconfigures power, rather than redistributing it.

Reforms, in essence, tend to reinforce the very hierarchies they seek to dismantle. This isn’t simply a matter of oversight—it reflects something deeper in the psychological and structural DNA of human civilization.

The story of reform is as old as humanity itself. From the French Revolution to the civil rights movements of the 20th century, history is replete with tales of oppressed peoples rising against their masters, only to establish new masters in their place. This isn’t just an accident of history—it’s a pattern, one deeply woven into the fabric of how hierarchical systems are built, maintained, and perpetuated.

Consider the Russian Revolution of 1917. The Bolsheviks sought to dismantle a monarchy that had long oppressed its people, but by the 1930s, Joseph Stalin had created one of the most oppressive totalitarian regimes in history. In post-colonial Africa, leaders who once rallied the masses with promises of liberation often became autocrats themselves, utilizing the same mechanisms of power once wielded by colonial rulers. These examples highlight that reform, even when driven by the best intentions, often succumbs to a gravitational pull that leads us back into familiar patterns of control.

In each case, the reformers who aimed to liberate became new overlords, and the masses, in seeking freedom, were instead drawn into a newly configured system of hierarchy and control. The reformers were the slaves of yesterday, but they became the masters of tomorrow.

Foreign Aid and the Reinforcement of Corruption

Nowhere is this clearer than in the relationship between foreign aid and corruption. Aid is often framed as a form of reform—a tool to help lift nations out of poverty, reduce inequality, and bring about stability. But in reality, the injection of foreign capital often reinforces the very structures of power that perpetuate inequality.

The case for this comes from historical data: aid dollars frequently fuel corrupt governments, which use the funds to strengthen their own hold over power rather than to uplift their citizens. Noam Chomsky, a fierce critic of U.S. foreign policy, has long pointed out that foreign aid is often a mechanism for ensuring that American corporations benefit from favorable economic policies in the recipient countries. In effect, the taxpayers of donor nations are subsidizing corporate interests under the guise of humanitarian aid.

This dynamic is not an isolated one—corruption thrives in the space between hierarchical power structures and foreign intervention. Aid money creates opportunities for local elites to enrich themselves, thereby solidifying their power. The rhetoric of reform becomes a smokescreen for the re-entrenchment of control, with corruption functioning as a structural necessity within hierarchical systems.

What we are witnessing, then, is the reinforcement of slave-seeking reforms, where the external appearance of progress masks the internal reality of power consolidation.

The Psychological Appeal of Subjugation

Why, then, do we keep coming back to hierarchical control? Why does society seem drawn to slave-seeking reforms, even when the desire for freedom appears so strong? The answer may lie in the psychology of subjugation.

As the philosopher Erich Fromm pointed out, freedom often brings with it a sense of existential anxiety. To be truly free means to be unmoored, to face the world without the protective shell of external authority or imposed order. For many, this is simply too much to bear. The unknown is terrifying, and in times of instability, people seek the comfort of subjugation.

This psychological dynamic isn’t limited to the individual—it plays out on a mass scale. Societies often cling to familiar structures of power because they provide a sense of security. Even when these structures are deeply flawed, the fear of the unknown is often more powerful than the desire to overthrow the system. Reform, then, becomes a way to tinker with the edges of the system without addressing its core inequalities.

Corruption is often seen as a disease that must be eradicated, but in truth, it functions as a structural glue in hierarchical systems. Corruption facilitates power—it ensures that those at the top can maintain control by creating systems of patronage, favoritism, and loyalty. It is, in many ways, a form of currency within power structures.

In this sense, anti-corruption reforms often fail because they target the symptoms rather than the cause. Corruption is not merely a flaw in the system—it is a feature that allows hierarchical systems to function. Without addressing the concentration of power and wealth, efforts to eliminate corruption will only lead to new forms of control, disguised as reforms.

The Evolutionary Lens, Slave to the System?

Taking a step back, we can look at this through an evolutionary lens. Human beings evolved in hierarchical social structures. Our ancestors depended on leaders to organize resources, defend the group, and resolve conflicts. This reliance on hierarchical structures is hard-wired into our psychology. It ensures social stability but also makes us susceptible to cycles of subjugation.

Even in modern, democratic societies, this evolutionary inheritance manifests itself in the way we organize our institutions. We build bureaucracies, establish chains of command, and delegate authority in ways that often resemble the tribal structures of our ancestors. The very notion of reform, then, may be rooted in our need to reorganize power, rather than to dismantle it.

The challenge we face is not merely how to reform corrupt systems but how to rethink the very nature of reform itself. Can we create systems that distribute power more equally, that do not rely on hierarchical structures prone to corruption and control? Can we design reforms that truly liberate, rather than merely rearrange the deck chairs on a sinking ship?

The answer may lie in decentralization. By shifting power away from centralized authorities—whether in government, corporations, or global organizations—and towards local communities and individuals, we may find a way to escape the cycle of slave-seeking reforms. But much like the French Revolution it could be terribly dangerous? we are so lucky and relatively in a new place as human societies.

Ultimately, the question isn’t just about reforming systems. It’s about reforming our minds, rethinking what we expect from power and how we can build a society that values liberation over control. Only then can we hope to break the cycle of subjugation that has defined human history.

This journalistic piece frames the conversation around slave-seeking reforms, foreign aid, corruption, and power structures within the context of xawat.com. It is analytical, thought-provoking, and mirrors your desire for multidisciplinary insights, blending history, psychology, political science, and evolutionary theory into a cohesive, well-rounded narrative. With all due respects.

As such,

The concept of inherent slave-seeking structural reforms invites a deep and intricate exploration into the historical, psychological, and sociopolitical dimensions of reform itself. It raises crucial questions about whether structural reforms—whether in governance, economics, or societal organization—are designed to truly liberate or simply reinforce existing hierarchies and systems of control. This exploration must also grapple with humanity’s repeated attempts at breaking free from systems of oppression, only to fall back into newer, perhaps subtler, forms of subjugation. Let’s unpack this further.

A Cycle of Liberation and Subjugation

Throughout history, reforms, revolutions, and movements have been driven by the desire to break free from various forms of oppression: political, economic, and social. From the fall of empires to the rise of democratic states, humanity has often sought structural change to address imbalances of power. However, as many historians and political philosophers have pointed out, these attempts at reform frequently result in new forms of control.

Revolutions that Rebuild Hierarchies: Consider the major revolutions in history—whether it be the French Revolution, the Russian Revolution, or even the American Revolution. Each sought to dismantle unjust structures but, over time, replaced old hierarchies with new forms of power consolidation. In the wake of revolutionary fervor, bureaucracies, militaries, or elites often emerged as the new masters, reconstructing a social order that still had an inherent hierarchy.

Reform Movements in Economics: In the economic realm, reforms have frequently been proposed as a way to free people from the tyranny of monopolies, feudal landlords, or corrupt governance. However, capitalism’s evolution into modern corporatism presents an ironic twist. While reforms like labor rights, minimum wages, and anti-monopoly laws were meant to liberate workers and small businesses, we find ourselves in an age where corporations hold unprecedented power, often collaborating with governments. The result? A system where wealth concentration among a few corporations can mirror the power of monarchies or colonial rulers of the past.

The challenge here seems to be that structural reform frequently fails to dismantle the deep-seated hierarchical frameworks that exist. Instead, it reshuffles the deck, offering new titles, new rulers, and often new narratives of freedom, while maintaining a fundamentally unequal distribution of power and wealth.

Do We Seek Freedom or Security?

A key question when we speak of slave-seeking structural reform is whether human beings are truly seeking freedom or if they are, in fact, seeking security and order under the guise of liberation. This speaks to a deeply ingrained psychological tension between the desire for autonomy and the need for protection, guidance, or leadership.

The Comfort of Subjugation: As both historical and psychological literature suggests, freedom often comes with the burden of uncertainty and responsibility. This is evident in the works of Erich Fromm, who argued in Escape from Freedom that individuals, when faced with the anxiety of total freedom, often revert to systems of subjugation because they provide psychological safety. People may fear the chaos that unbridled freedom can bring and prefer the familiar security of a structured hierarchy, even if that hierarchy limits their autonomy.

Leadership and Power Dynamics: Similarly, Nietzsche pointed out that the concept of the “will to power” isn’t just about domination over others but about submission to ideals, leaders, or systems that promise meaning and direction. In a complex world, people may seek reform, but only to the extent that it provides them with new leaders or structures to follow. In this sense, we repeatedly recreate conditions for voluntary subjugation, where reforms merely shift the framework of control rather than dismantle it altogether.

Corruption itself can be viewed not merely as an aberration of a system, but as a function of hierarchical structures. Corruption thrives in systems where power and resources are concentrated at the top and controlled by a few, leaving those at the bottom to fight for access through any means necessary. If structural reforms never address the root cause of these concentrations—whether in the form of wealth or political authority—they risk perpetuating the very dynamics that lead to corruption.

Institutionalized Corruption: Corruption in this sense isn’t just an unfortunate side effect of reform but can be seen as institutionalized. As noted in various analyses of global governance systems, corruption is often the lubricant that allows systems to continue functioning in a world of stark inequalities. This may explain why reform, even when aimed at curbing corruption, often fails to eradicate it—corruption isn’t a bug in the system, but rather a feature that helps maintain the status quo.

The Role of External Influence: Foreign aid, as discussed earlier, may act as an external catalyst for corruption, but it also functions within a pre-existing domestic power structure. If local elites or governments have built systems of control around corrupt practices, the introduction of foreign funds can reinforce these dynamics rather than dismantling them. This feeds into the public perception of aid being inherently tied to exploitation, as discussed in your earlier observation about how these narratives are shaped.

The paradox here is that while reform is often seen as a path to liberation, it is also a mechanism of control. Structural reforms in education, government, or even healthcare often involve standardizing practices, introducing new forms of surveillance, and monitoring compliance. This top-down approach, while intending to introduce fairness and accountability, can just as easily introduce new bureaucratic chains of command.

In a strange twist, reforms meant to liberate can become more oppressive, as individuals are forced into new systems of regulation and compliance. For instance, reforms in the name of anti-terrorism or national security often give rise to state surveillance apparatuses that curtail freedoms more than they protect them. This leads to the conclusion that reforms often act not to dismantle hierarchies but to modernize and update them for new challenges.

On an evolutionary level, it could be argued that human societies have evolved with hierarchical structures as a form of social order. From hunter-gatherer societies with informal leadership structures to modern nation-states, hierarchy has often been a survival mechanism—allowing for specialization of labor, resource distribution, and defense against threats. However, as human society has evolved, these hierarchies have ossified, becoming entrenched in economic and political institutions that may no longer serve the broader needs of the populace.

We could speculate, using an evolutionary biology lens, that humans have an inherent tendency to seek hierarchical structures for survival, even at the cost of individual freedom. This manifests not just in economic systems but in social dynamics, where individuals often feel more comfortable knowing their place in a system than facing the uncertainties of freedom.

The key question becomes: How can structural reforms be meaningful without merely reinforcing existing systems of control?

Decentralization: One answer may lie in decentralization—moving away from systems where power is concentrated in the hands of a few and instead distributing power more evenly across society. This means allowing local communities, smaller organizations, and individuals to have more say in decision-making processes, reducing the need for top-down reforms that simply replicate existing power dynamics.

Building Trust: Reforms need to focus on rebuilding trust—between governments and citizens, between local authorities and foreign donors, between the elites and the masses. This can only happen when the public feels genuinely included in the reform process, rather than seeing it as something imposed from above or from outside.

Reframing the Narrative: Perhaps one of the most important reforms is a reform of the narrative itself. Moving away from a discourse of victimhood and subjugation, we need to focus on a vision of empowerment. Rather than relying on the external powers or corrupt systems to solve problems, the narrative should be one of collective empowerment, where individuals and communities build resilience and agency in the face of challenges.

In essence, the notion of slave-seeking structural reforms reflects the deeper reality of our entanglement in hierarchical systems that have evolved over time. Structural reforms, while necessary, often replicate and reinforce the same power dynamics they seek to address, keeping us in a cycle of subjugation, whether it is to political, economic, or social systems.

Aa critical and often under-appreciated dimension of the discourse surrounding foreign aid, especially in the context of perceptions of corruption.

It’s a nuanced psychological and sociopolitical feedback loop where foreign aid—intended to help or stabilize—can be used by local power structures to exploit or manipulate public sentiment. Here’s how this might play out:

When aid programs are seen as benefiting corporate interests or reinforcing political objectives, it can fuel a pervasive sense of distrust. This often leads to the public associating foreign aid with external control or manipulation rather than genuine assistance. Whether or not the aid is truly corrupt or inefficient, the perception of corruption is enough to seed cynicism, disillusionment, and apathy in the local population.

If local power brokers or government officials frame the aid programs as merely tools for American or foreign interests, it can serve their agenda by deflecting attention from their own corrupt practices or failures. This shifts the blame for economic and social problems onto external forces, exacerbating the cycle of distrust.

The Role of Local Elites

Local governments or elites often act as gatekeepers for foreign aid. In corrupt systems, they may skim off resources, mismanage projects, or divert funds intended for the public good. They can exploit the aid narrative to reinforce their control over resources while maintaining power. Aid that is tied to contracts with U.S. companies, for example, may become part of this narrative—“the money isn’t really for us, it’s for them”—which can stoke resentment.

This tactic subtly fosters a narrative of victimhood: that the nation is being exploited by foreign entities. It diverts attention from local accountability, allowing corruption to thrive within the local political context while foreign powers take the blame.

Repeated exposure to stories of inefficiency or manipulation of aid deepens public cynicism. Even when aid genuinely helps, the population may view it through a lens of skepticism, assuming that someone (whether corporations, local officials, or foreign governments) is profiting unfairly at their expense. This creates a self-reinforcing cycle: the more people believe aid is corrupt, the less they trust local or foreign institutions, and the easier it is for corrupt leaders to capitalize on this mistrust.

This loss of public confidence is crucial because it erodes the legitimacy of government initiatives, regardless of intent or effectiveness. Over time, this can weaken civic engagement, reducing participation in the democratic process and fostering resignation to the idea that corruption is inevitable.

Whether intentional or not, the nature of how foreign aid is discussed, managed, and perceived can be strategically used to undermine public confidence in both the state and external actors. This can even create fertile ground for populist movements that capitalize on frustration with both local and global systems.

For instance, if foreign aid becomes synonymous with “corporate imperialism” or “Western exploitation,” local leaders can stoke nationalism or populism by framing foreign involvement as inherently self-serving. In this way, aid becomes a political tool not just for foreign interests, but for local actors seeking to consolidate power by manipulating the narrative

Even well-meaning transparency or reform efforts to improve the aid process can be weaponized by local actors. Efforts to expose corruption or improve efficiency can be spun as foreign meddling or an attempt to control local sovereignty, again reinforcing a perception of external domination and further eroding trust in any institution involved.

In this way, the corruption narrative, once established, becomes a powerful psychological and political weapon. Even if real reforms take place, the perception lags behind, and the damage to public confidence is slow to repair.

This dynamic isn’t limited to foreign aid alone. Any outside intervention—whether it’s through international organizations, corporations, or even foreign governments—can be similarly manipulated to undermine confidence. The more entrenched the perception of external manipulation becomes, the more difficult it is to untangle local corruption from external influence. And once public faith in institutions—both local and foreign—starts to crumble, it creates a vacuum of trust where local power brokers thrive unchecked.

A Perception Trap?

Foreign aid’s connection to local corruption and psychological manipulation creates a perception trap. Even if foreign aid is efficient, its association with self-interest, external control, and local elites’ opportunism creates a viscous cycle. Each time aid is framed as corrupt or self-serving, it further erodes public confidence, making it easier for those in power to deflect blame and harder for actual reforms to succeed. This dynamic underscores how critical perception is, not just in shaping public opinion but in influencing the success or failure of aid and governance systems.

A way forward requires not just transparency or reform but rebuilding trust. This entails understanding how public perception is shaped, who controls the narrative, and how to deconstruct the psychology of corruption to foster a more resilient and engaged civic society. In the absence of such efforts, the idea of corruption, even if not fully accurate, becomes its own political weapon—one that serves local power just as much as it undermines external influence.

If Mary had a catchphrase, maybe be something like:

“I birthed the Son of God. No big deal.”

But of course, she wouldn’t say it, because she’s too humble for that.

Saint Mary:Patron Saint of Holding It Together While the World Falls Apart

When the Apostles were running around in sandals, acting like they invented the concept of sacrifice, Mary was the one behind the scenes, making sure everything was on track.

She wasn’t just a saint in name—she was the saint you wanted in your corner when things got real. Like a mom who brings snacks to a soccer game but also shuts down the rowdy dads in the stands with just a look.

Her Modern Leadership Guidebook (As Told by Dad Jokes)

Chapter 1: Humility Wins Every Time

Mary didn’t need a PR campaign to get her message across. The lesson for today’s leaders? You don’t need to be loud to be heard—just be consistent.

While modern leaders are busy tweeting, Mary was out here changing the course of human history without so much as a blog post. Sometimes, the most powerful actions happen behind the scenes.

Image of Mary with Joseph making a dad joke about building.

Joseph: ‘I nailed it.’

Mary: ‘He’s the carpenter, but I do all the heavy lifting.’

In the grand scheme of things, Mary didn’t need the spotlight, but if she were alive today, she’d be the kind of person who could drop one-liners better than your favourite comedian.

And let’s not forget—she raised Jesus, the man who flipped tables and spoke truth to power. You think that just happens? No. That’s good parenting.

So, modern leaders, here’s a word of advice:

Channel your inner Mary. Drop the bravado, pick up some humility, and remember—actions speak louder than tweets.

Creating irony through the lens of Jesus mother Mary and the way she the Mother of Jesus Christ, Mary explains modern leadership failures and cognitive dissonance, particularly with a satirical use of dad jokes,

provides a rich opportunity to draw on both religious themes and modern philosophy.

By weaving in theological roots, we can play with the expectation of divine wisdom while subtly highlighting the flaws in contemporary leadership.

Here’s how we can approach it: Jesus, Dad Jokes, and the Cognitive Dissonance of Modern Leadership

(A Sermon Satire)

Once upon a time, in the gentle hills of Nazareth, there was a child who grew up with the wisdom of the heavens on his shoulders. Jesus, the son of a carpenter, may not have been taught formal rhetoric at an Ivy League institution, but boy, could he work a crowd. With nothing more than a parable or a fish (sometimes two), he spoke truths that set souls on fire. In contrast, today’s leaders have speechwriters and talking points, and yet somehow… we end up with

dad jokes that miss the mark.

Now, let’s not underestimate dad jokes. After all, Joseph—Jesus’ earthly father—surely made a few quips about woodworking:

“Why don’t we build houses on sand, Dad?”

“Because, son, it’s just a shore thing.”

Mary might have rolled her eyes at Joseph’s attempts at humor, but deep down, she knew they were trying to make sense of an ever-complicated world through laughter.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what modern leaders are trying to do—using weak attempts at humor to paper over deep, structural failings.

On God, Irony, and Modern Leadership

But how did we go from miracle workers to misfire jokers? Let’s delve into the teachings of monotheism to explore where it all went wrong. At the heart of monotheistic preaching, we find the call to unity, purpose, and divine order. The leader is meant to bring about coherence, pulling together the many into the one. And what does a dad joke do? It unifies the family in a collective groan of disappointment. The irony? Leaders today deliver dad jokes like they are delivering commandments, unaware of how their shallow attempts at humor betray a deep-seated cognitive dissonance.

In the time of Jesus, the message was clear: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” A leader with direction, a vision that transcended mortal concerns. Flash forward 2000 years, and you’ve got leaders saying:

“I am the way, the truth, and the light… Wait, hold on… Did anyone fact-check that? Yeah, no, scratch that, let’s pivot.”

What happened to the prophet’s conviction? Today’s leaders might wear the same titles—preacher, president, CEO—but their words stumble out, wrapped in layers of spin, meant to manufacture consent while simultaneously creating dissonance. The audience is left wondering: “Did they mean that?” or “Do they even believe what they just said?”

The Mother of All Ironies: Mary and the Modern Leader’s Collapse

Consider Mary, the Mother of Jesus, standing before her son as he faced the world. She knew he wasn’t about playing politics. He didn’t need polling data or consultants. His actions spoke of love, sacrifice, and truth. In contrast, today’s leader might tweet:

“I love everyone. #Blessed.”

And yet, behind closed doors, they might lobby for policies that cut funding to those in need, all while making vague promises about trickling blessings.

This is where the manufactured cognitive dissonance comes in. Leaders today sell the image of benevolence and compassion while delivering policies that are anything but. It’s as if they’re performing miracles of inversion—making hope disappear and calling it progress.

In monotheistic traditions, the preacher’s role is clear: to guide, to illuminate, to lead the flock in a singular, purposeful direction. Yet, modern leaders seem to thrive in duplicitous spaces. They speak with forked tongues, offering a dad joke smile while pushing policies that betray the very foundations of ethical leadership.

Dad Jokes and Cognitive Dissonance: The Punchline We Never Asked For

When Joseph was making dad jokes, it was in good faith. He wasn’t trying to mislead. He wasn’t selling one thing while delivering another. But the dad jokes of modern leadership? They seem to be a distraction, a way to shift focus from incompetence or corruption—a filler when they’ve got nothing of substance to offer.

The cognitive dissonance comes in when leaders say one thing and do another—when they create policies that betray their professed ideals.

In many ways, this tactic isn’t new. Biblical prophets warned against leaders who would claim righteousness but act in self-interest. The dissonance today comes not from overt wickedness, but from subtle manipulations of reality—a kind of pharisaical posturing.

It’s as if every speech they give is a dad joke:

“Why did the politician cross the road?”

“To get to the other side… but don’t worry, they won’t help you across.”

Cognitive Dissonance: A Modern Plague with Ancient Roots

The core issue with cognitive dissonance in leadership isn’t new. If we look at the Old Testament, we see warnings against false prophets who led people astray by mixing truth with lies. They manufactured a narrative that suited their own interests, and their followers were left with a sense of spiritual unease. Fast forward to today, and we’re seeing the same phenomenon—but instead of golden calves, we have golden parachutes.

Leaders are faced with a paradox: to lead is to serve, but the modern model has made it about domination and survival. As a result, leaders are often trapped in their own webs of cognitive dissonance, preaching prosperity while privately planning for scarcity.

Finding Mary’s Wisdom in the Mess

So what can we learn from the figure of Mary? Perhaps it’s that true leadership is not about spin but about steadfastness. Mary wasn’t trying to build an empire. She wasn’t concerned with how many likes her son’s parables were getting.

She stood by his side, quietly embodying the principles of love and endurance. Modern leaders could learn something from her humility, her willingness to step out of the spotlight and let the truth speak for itself.

In the end, maybe the dad jokes of modern leadership are a symptom,

not the cause. The cognitive dissonance we see is rooted in a much deeper issue—a failure to connect rhetoric with reality, a reluctance to truly serve, and a fear of letting go of the illusions of power.