The Inner Monologue

Let’s play a game. Next time someone tells you they have a simple solution to a complicated problem, take a shot. (Disclaimer: You will die of alcohol poisoning before lunch.)

Here’s the truth: If a problem were simple, it would already be solved. The world is not a children’s book where the wise old owl dispenses one-line wisdom that fixes everything. No, the world is a tangled, chaotic, bureaucratic nightmare where every solution creates three new problems, and the only people who claim otherwise are either dangerously stupid or think you are.

But oh, how we love simplicity! Complex issues like healthcare, climate change, or economic inequality? Nah, don’t bother us with nuance. Just give us a bumper sticker solution. Deregulate! Regulate! Build the wall! Tear it down! It doesn’t matter if the “solution” is internally inconsistent or historically disastrous—what matters is that it feels right. And feeling right is all that counts in a world where attention spans are shorter than a goldfish’s memory.

The real joke? The people peddling these simple solutions know they’re full of it. They’re not stupid—they’re cynical. They’ve figured out that the masses would rather swallow a comforting lie than chew on a hard truth. Why bother with a 200-page policy plan when you can just shout “Make America Great Again” or “Defund the Police” and watch the crowds cheer?

So who’s the bigger fool—the public for buying it, or the hucksters for selling it? Trick question. They’re made for each other. One side gets to feel smart without doing the work, the other gets power without the burden of actual solutions. It’s a beautiful, dysfunctional symbiosis.

But hey, maybe I’m overcomplicating things. Maybe the real simple solution is to stop listening to anyone who claims to have one.