

You’re right that a lot has changed for the better, especially when it comes to legal rights for LGBTQ+ people. The AIDS crisis was devastating and compounded by the cruelty of being denied the most basic recognitions like visiting your partner in the hospital or even being allowed to stay in your home after they passed. Legal victories like Lawrence v. Texas, Obergefell, and Bostock were historic, and they represent real, hard-won progress.
But I think it’s also important to recognize that legal inclusion doesn’t always mean liberation. A lot of those rights are still tied to institutions like marriage, which leave out anyone who doesn’t fit that mold. Marriage shouldn’t be the gateway to healthcare or housing security. That just reinforces the idea that some relationships or lives are more worthy of protection than others.
Same goes for healthcare. The Affordable Care Act helped, but it still left healthcare tied to jobs and profit. Life-saving medications exist, but they’re still out of reach for many because of how expensive and inaccessible our system is. PrEP, for example, is amazing in what it can do, but the fact that it’s rationed through patents and insurance barriers says a lot about who this system really serves.
And while the internet has opened up huge spaces for connection and organizing, it also turned our identities into data and our attention into profit. Social media connects, but it also surveils and exploits. So even in our victories, the system keeps finding ways to profit off our survival.
I think the pessimism today is more than just a vibe shift. People feel it because they know deep down that we’re still not free. That our progress is fragile, often built on the same systems that oppress others. The question isn’t just whether things are better. It’s whether we’re building something that won’t keep leaving people behind.
I appreciate you clarifying, there’s more we agree on than not.
You’re absolutely right to emphasize the role of workers in the chain. The process from A to B to C doesn’t function without their labor, and too often, they’re rendered invisible in both capitalist and state narratives. That’s a vital reminder. Any left project that doesn’t center workers, from land to factory to distribution, loses its soul. And you’re right: the roots of chocolate’s prominence today aren’t just cultural, they’re exploitative. The commodity’s journey is soaked in colonial extraction, and in many ways, that legacy persists.
Your mention of white supremacist funding and KKK ties to regional destabilization is important. I don’t doubt it. U.S. foreign policy, especially in Latin America, has long served as a tool for white capitalist expansion, from the School of the Americas to paramilitary support. That history deserves more light, not less.
Now, on the worry about corruption and state overreach, I hear you. The cycle you’re pointing to is real: revolutionary governments co-opted, bureaucracies bloated, the people once again crushed beneath a new elite. But here’s where we may differ: I don’t have blind faith in governance. I have faith in people. And that includes the right of people to shape their governments, to build horizontal structures of power, to hold any institution accountable, whether it wears a suit or a state badge.
Power can corrupt, but it also depends on how it’s held. When governance is democratized, truly democratized, not just through ballots but through councils, unions, communal ownership, it doesn’t have to recreate capitalist hierarchies. Projects like Zapatista autonomy in Chiapas or Rojava in Syria show that state and market aren’t the only models. People can create something else if they have the space.
Your closing line hits hard. Maybe I do have more faith than you in the potential of governance, not because mine hasn’t taken from me, but because I believe in reclaiming what it has. Governance should serve, not rule. If it rules, it’s time to resist. And if people rise when they’re suppressed, then so be it. I stand with them.