A human being is part of a whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separate from the rest, a kind of optical illusion of his consciousness. This illusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and affection for a few people who are closest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison, to enlarge our circle of compassion, to encompass all living creatures and all nature in its beauty.

(Albert Einstein)

A few months ago, a friend from Mexico came to visit me. I hadn’t seen him in almost 30 years. He stayed at a spiritual center near my home, and one morning I accompanied him to watch the sunrise. He had studied physics and mathematics and worked for many years as a programmer.

That morning, on the shores of the Atlantic, the sunrise was breathtaking. I told him, at the end of the show:

What does it matter if the sun is 93 million miles from Earth, or all the other mental data we know about it and the stars? The magic is that it appears every day and makes life possible—and that we are here watching it. And nobody knows why.

We talked about the countless opinions we all carry about everything, and from there, moved on to politics, consumerism, unrestrained selfishness, power struggles, humanity, and inhumanity. We reflected on the current moment. And for some reason, we realized it was all theatre—a play being performed in an infinite and spectacular setting, like sunrises. The game we all play to “be,” without knowing who we are. According to Hindu mythology, the universe—the cosmos—is Leela, a spontaneous pastime of Being, whose only purpose is to experience joy through a game of hide-and-seek with itself. The universe is the main theatre where the play of the search for the consciousness of the Self is performed.

The history of humanity—from its wild and tribal beginnings as hunter-gatherers (two million years ago), through the evolution of agriculture (12,000 to 15,000 years ago), to the industrial revolution (just 200–300 years ago)—has always been about organizing our relationships with one another.

From the formation of tribes to the emergence of urban social conglomerates sparked by the agricultural revolution, and later, the global communication and corporate interweaving born from the industrial and post-industrial revolutions—these developments required political organization.

Systems to articulate productive processes, collective work, and address our need to participate, act, protect ourselves from fear, consume, be applauded, and satisfy our desire for power. Things to which we human beings are especially susceptible.

Since ancient times, theatre has played a fundamental role in political, social, and religious life. The dramas of ancient Greece and Rome often exposed complex political power struggles, family conflicts, and social hierarchies. They served as a powerful medium for delivering political and social commentary to wide audiences.

Likewise, in medieval Europe, the Church used theatre to educate the public and disseminate religious doctrine. The art of theatre lies not in presenting truth, but in manipulating the audience’s attention to make what is presented feel true.

What makes theatre powerful as a political instrument is the connection between actor, audience, and performance. When the audience is fully engaged, it’s because they are willing to accept the reality being staged. Theatrical manipulation is a way to persuade someone to do something they might not otherwise do. In this sense, it becomes a potent form of power.

Autocrats have long found it useful. With developments in psychology, social sciences, and computer science, especially in recent decades, manipulation has become more frequent, effective, and far-reaching. Political leaders increasingly leverage innate psychological mechanisms to build loyal followings, regardless of the substance of their political content. Propaganda’s power lies in its ability to appeal to emotion, not logic.

By tapping into people’s fears, hopes, and anxieties, misinformation mobilizes them to act irrationally. The cult of personality is one technique used to elevate a leader to a nearly divine status. Propaganda surrounding charismatic leaders often portrays them as infallible saviors—the embodiment of national ideals. Manipulating information not only shapes public opinion in the present—it reshapes historical memory and national identity. The state’s version of history becomes the only acceptable narrative. Alternative viewpoints are suppressed. Dissenting voices silenced. The result: a reconfigured collective memory, where the official narrative is accepted as truth.

Mass hysteria tends to erupt during moments of heightened uncertainty and tension—like the ones we’re experiencing now. Complex, urgent issues such as climate change, geopolitical tension (especially involving the United States, Europe, and China), the threat of war, and economic instability all create fertile ground for collective fear.Hysteria makes abstract fears feel concrete, offering society a recognisable threat to focus on. Take, for example, mass migrations.

Today, the manipulation of public opinion through social media is a growing threat to democracies around the world. A recent media study by the Oxford Internet Institute found that in more than 80 countries, social media manipulation poses a serious and growing risk. Disinformation is now professionalized and produced at industrial scale.

The influence of social networks has skyrocketed. Governments and political parties invest millions in private-sector cyber operators who drown out dissenting voices. These so-called social media influencers are used to spread disinformation, supported by volunteers, youth groups, and civil society organizations aligned with their ideologies.

We live in an era where objective facts are less persuasive than emotional appeals and personal beliefs. Political discourse has grown indifferent to truth and unwilling to engage with opposing views. As a society, we have outsourced our ability to discern truth and locked ourselves into echo chambers—media bubbles that reinforce our own perspectives. Without a shared reality, we cannot coexist or form collective opinions.

Modern political manipulation breeds confusion, stifles dialogue, and shuts down debate. Politicians are no longer interested in rational, fact-based discussion. Their priority is monopolizing attention. Consider the phenomenon of Trumpism. It uses tools to steer those who fear humanity’s evolution back toward ultranationalism. At a time when global interconnectedness is becoming increasingly evident, the Trump-theatre captivates audiences fearful of enlarging our circle of compassion. It does so with theatrical gimmicks: stoking fear of “pet-eating immigrants,” waging a culture war against diversity, equality, and inclusion, renaming geographic areas, proposing the annexation of Greenland and Canada.

These are not ideological positions or economic proposals. They are performances—stagecraft designed to distract and manipulate an anxious audience, made accessible through mass media and social networks. Many enjoy it. It resonates with their own frustrations. Or perhaps they enjoy the show: the antics, the clenched fists, the stage, the entertainment. They follow, like spectators applauding a performance.

Meanwhile, sunrises still happen. Every day.