The Real Cancel Culture

They erase our past to corrupt our future

One cannot pervert the future without molesting the past.

This is the foundational truth behind authoritarian efforts to control public memory, and it was laid bare in President Trump’s recent executive order targeting the Smithsonian Institution. In a move that alarmed historians, educators, and cultural leaders across the country, the president directed the Smithsonian to eliminate exhibits and programs deemed "divisive" or "anti-American," including those that acknowledge systemic racism, gender inequality, or the lived experiences of marginalized communities. The goal, we are told, is to restore "truth and sanity" to American history.

But whose truth? And whose sanity?

This is not just a dispute over museum displays. It is an assault on the right to fully understand our nation, including its virtues and sins. The executive order is a calculated effort to rewrite history, to erase the moral complexity of the American story and replace it with a simplified mythic version where the country has never done anything wrong and where questioning its child-like myths is treated as betrayal. This is not education. It is indoctrination.

At the same time, Trump has dismantled Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs across federal institutions. These initiatives were never about giving unfair advantages or creating division; they were about confronting the structural inequalities that continue to shape our society. DEI efforts were never about quotas or reverse discrimination; rather, they tried to make sure that qualified individuals would not be overlooked because of their race, gender, or background.

"Colorblindness" is often held up as a moral ideal. But in practice, it's used to dismiss the very real consequences of historical injustice. Claiming not to see race doesn’t erase the cultural and systemic barriers that still exist; it just allows those barriers to go unchallenged. It's like trying to treat a disease by ignoring the test results. Banning DEI is a cynical strategy to keep inequality out of sight and out of mind, allowing those already in positions of privilege to pretend the system has always been fair when we know it hasn't.

Here's where our leaders who wish to create an authoritarian state are taking us. They know they cannot convince the public to accept an authoritarian state without first convincing them that such a system is perfectly fair. If you erase the injustices of the past, you can deny the inequities of the present. If you teach everyone that the ruling class is righteous and that their power is earned, then they'll believe that any challenge to the ruling class is an attack on the nation itself.

This is why the billionaire class has become so invested in politics. They understand that most people would naturally resist a system that consolidates power at the top unless they can frame their dominance as somehow morally justified. By casting critics of inequality as enemies of the nation, they rally everyday people to defend a system that overwhelmingly benefits the wealthy few.

In effect, the working class is drawn into defending a social and economic order that does not serve them. To get the working class to buy into this order, the wealthy class spreads the idea that anyone can become wealthy with enough hard work. People are told, "You too may someday be rich," and this message is repeated across popular culture. TV shows like Shark Tank, the glorification of billionaires in media, and even the widespread popularity of the lottery among low-income Americans all reinforce this fantasy.

But the reality is bleak. The chances of someone moving from poverty to extreme wealth are vanishingly small—about as likely as being struck by lightning during an earthquake. Still, the myth persists, sustaining a system in which those with the least are persuaded to defend the interests of those with the most. Surprisingly, this psychology of victimization even works among some women and some people of color; if they serve the wealthy class, they may become wealthy themselves or at least sufficiently adjacent to it to enjoy the spoils. Unfortunately, it's all a ruse, a game that amuses the wealthy and endlessly frustrates everyone else.

That’s what makes Trump’s effort so dangerous. This is not just about reshaping public museums or banning DEI programs. It’s about manufacturing consent for a political and social order that extracts cooperation from the marginalized while heaping praise on the powerful and wealthy. It’s about rewriting history to justify inequity. It’s about convincing the public that injustice itself is patriotism. It explains why the teachings of Jesus, who advocated for the poor, the sick, and the displaced, are disregarded with extreme prejudice. Just like in biblical times, Jesus is a threat to the rich and powerful. So the rich, using the pulpit of the mega-evangelical churches, effectively reinvented Jesus—a Jesus who worships money and power. 

But this strategy is ultimately a race against time. Trump and his allies are betting that state-sponsored amnesia will hold long enough for them to entrench their power indefinitely. They're betting that if they erase enough stories, rewrite enough textbooks, silence enough dissenters, and restructure enough museums, they can delay unity and equity forever.

History suggests otherwise.

Every regime that tried to rule through lies and fear eventually collapsed under the weight of its own falsehoods. The truth may be suppressed, but it is patient. It waits.

At this crossroads, our duty is clear. We must serve the truth—not just as a historical record but as a moral compass. We must reject the comfort of myth when it comes at the expense of justice. We must face the past honestly so we can shape a future with integrity. And above all, we must have the courage to speak—because silence is the fertilizer that nourishes the weeds of authoritarianism.