My generation grew up in a world where certain truths were treated as permanent fixtures, not discussion topics. Vaccinations were good—full stop—and the only people who questioned them were the sort of fringe-dwelling cranks you’d cross the street to avoid. You didn’t have to wonder what was being slipped into the syringe alongside the cure.
Authorities? Distrust was healthy, yes, but it was the garden-variety suspicion that assumed a bit of petty graft, some backroom deals—nothing that would land you in a cell for the crime of breathing in the wrong direction.
When the president spoke, people listened—if not with reverence, then at least with the assumption he wasn’t actively plotting to ruin their lives. When your lawyer gave advice, you took it without suspecting he was billing you twice for the same sentence. When the priest stepped up to the pulpit, you knew some of it was sanctified nonsense, but you also assumed he meant well enough and wouldn’t sell your soul for a tax break.
No more.Maybe it was never really that way and we were just drunk on the nostalgia of our own naivety. Or maybe today truly is darker, meaner, and more unhinged than anything in living memory. Either way, blind trust has left the building—and it’s not coming back.