In my three decades on this planet, I have never experienced a late December without a sudden rush of familial interaction. I’ve been conditioned, like the majority of December holiday celebrating humans, to think about my loved ones more than usual in the waning months of the year, and during this time I often gravitate to a particular genre of storytelling: reporting that draws on the lives of a journalist’s family. To me, the way these accounts imbue journalistic writing with near-universal emotions makes them uniquely captivating. This week I’m highlighting one of my favorites: “My Father Says He’s a ‘Targeted Individual.’ Maybe We All Are” by investigative journalist Jean Guerrero.
Marco Guerrero heard voices in his head for most of his life, suffered job loss, and spiraled in and out of addiction. He spent many of his days convinced he was being surveilled and influenced by undercover CIA operatives. Writing in 2018, Jean handles Marco’s experience as only his daughter could; with care, deference, and devotion. It’s a master class in writing about those who suffer from mental health disorders. Marco’s schizophrenia diagnosis and his communication with other self-described-targeted individuals is only one layer of Jean’s deeply thoughtful piece. She also dials in on the internet, accusing it and the attention economy of actually and truly surveilling our every move and hijacking our free will and sense of self. Jean theorizes that her father and other “targeted individuals” might be more accurately regarded not as paranoid and deluded, but rather as prophets or “canaries in a digital coal mine.” She poses a question, terrifying in its simplicity and razor-sharpness: Who are the deluded ones, really?
Civilization came about as a result of storytelling, Jean notes. It was born of the human ability to craft a narrative and stick to it. Hundreds, then thousands, then millions of us came to agree on a shared reality. When this ability met the internet, which facilitates connection and communication at a massive scale, we got political factions with increasingly disparate versions of truth and a tidal wave of conspiracy theories. Persons whose unique chemical and neurological settings make them vulnerable to paranoia and persuasion, people like Jean’s father, are especially at risk in this brave new world.
It is exactly this internet-facilitated fracture and coalescing of differing stories and differing conceptions of reality that will be our downfall, Jean argues. Because the powerful can beam singular narratives into all of our minds through our screens and with our permission, we are in danger of losing all control. Targeted individuals are simply living the nightmare of what could be. “My father fought the alleged mind-control experiments as if his humanity were at stake,” Jean says. “Perhaps we can learn something from his resistance.”
As this year comes to a close, I plan to take Jean’s advice to heart and journey inward, toward my humanity rather than away from it. What, if any, forms of resistance do you practice in your lives? Even something as small as utilizing the cell phone grayscale setting or enforcing a no-phones rule counts. Send your ideas to samantha_spengler@wired.com or comment below the story. I’ll share them when Classics reconvenes after the holiday.
Cheers,
Sam
