The Inner Monologue

There persists, among certain Americans, a misunderstanding so profound that it continues to generate paperwork at an unsustainable rate. This misunderstanding is the belief that protest is an act performed within the system, rather than an event that places the individual under review by the system.

This confusion is understandable. The language surrounding rights has long been imprecise, sentimental, and—worst of all—encouraging. Citizens are told that rights are inherent, permanent, and immune to circumstance. This has led many to believe that rights accompany them everywhere, like a shadow or a conscience, rather than being conditionally maintained administrative recognitions, subject to suspension when circumstances become unclear.

Protest is precisely such a circumstance.

When a citizen protests, the system does not react emotionally. It does not take offense. It does not seek vengeance. It merely pauses. And in pausing, it must determine whether the individual before it is still recognizable as the kind of person to whom rights apply.

This is not a judgment. It is a classification problem.

To protest is to introduce ambiguity into an otherwise orderly arrangement. A person who stands silently at home is easy to process. A person who votes quietly every few years is predictable. But a person who gathers publicly, displays dissatisfaction, or attempts to redirect the attention of authority back toward itself creates an anomaly. The system must ask: What is this person now?

Until that question is resolved, certain assumptions can no longer be safely made.

Among these assumptions is the continued applicability of protections. The right to speak, for example, presumes speech that does not obstruct. The right to assemble presumes assemblies that dissolve on command. Even the right to life presumes a subject who is not actively interfering with the smooth operation of public order.

Once interference occurs, the presumption must be temporarily lifted.

Critics object to this characterization, insisting that protest is itself a protected right. This is a category error. Protection is not a feature of action; it is a status of the actor. When the action itself destabilizes the actor’s status, protection cannot logically be applied retroactively.

In simpler terms: the umbrella cannot protect you from the rain if opening it is the act under investigation.

Much concern has been raised about what happens during this investigatory interval. Citizens note—often loudly—that individuals have been injured, detained indefinitely, or killed while protesting. These outcomes are framed as violations. This framing is incorrect. A violation requires a confirmed subject. During review, confirmation has not yet occurred.

The system does not kill protesters. It merely declines to recognize them in time.

This distinction is crucial. Intent would imply agency. Agency would imply responsibility. Responsibility would imply error. The system does not err. It processes.

Families who inquire after missing protesters are advised to file Form 27-B, Request for Status Clarification (Deceased or Otherwise). Processing times vary. In the meantime, families are reminded that grief expressed collectively may resemble protest and could complicate their own standing.

None of this should be interpreted as cruelty. Cruelty requires awareness. The system is aware only of compliance, deviation, and backlog.

It is also worth noting that this process applies universally. Everyone is equal before it. The only difference is timing. Some citizens encounter the machinery late in life, perhaps while renewing a license or disputing a fee. Protesters encounter it early, often all at once, and in public.

There is a temptation to call this authoritarianism. This is inaccurate and unnecessarily dramatic. Authoritarianism implies a desire to dominate. The system desires only predictability. It is not offended by dissent; it is burdened by it.

Those who wish to preserve their rights are therefore encouraged to adopt behaviors that minimize ambiguity. Remain calm. Remain seated. Express dissatisfaction privately, preferably in formats that expire unread. Avoid gatherings, chants, signs, or movements that might be interpreted as meaning something.

Silence is especially helpful.

In time, as fewer citizens risk the inconvenience of review, the streets will grow quieter. The absence of protest will be cited as evidence of satisfaction. Satisfaction will be cited as evidence of legitimacy. Legitimacy will be cited as evidence that rights are functioning exactly as intended.

And if no one remains to say otherwise, the conclusion will be unavoidable.

The system will have been right all along.