The fake—the counterfeit, the bogus, the inauthentic—is not merely a deviation from reality; it is, fundamentally, a relative and socially constructed phenomenon. Increasingly, what we label as "fake" is not defined by its distance from truth, but by the consensus that allows it to inhabit the space of belief. It is sanctioned fiction, clothed in certainty. In contemporary political and cultural spheres, the fake takes form not as a sophisticated illusion or strategic deceit, but as an accepted convention—one that legitimizes shallow, angry, Machiavellian figures who embody our collective disillusionment and unfulfilled desires. These figures are not charismatic manipulators in the classical sense; they are crude impersonators of power, reflections of ambitions that have curdled.

This is not the triumph of seduction or a masterclass in psychological manipulation. Rather, it is the conscious or unconscious endorsement of the fake as a tool for reducing existential uncertainty. The fake offers a stable mirage. The less we understand others—those who are different, complex, or threatening to our worldview—the more secure we feel in the shrunken parameters of our own petty realities. Electing brats, liars, and theatrical strongmen is not a political accident or the result of mere ignorance; it is an active choice to remain small. It is a retreat into a curated world of reductionist values, where simplicity trumps complexity and downgraded, self-referential certainty replaces ambiguity. The fake is thus not only tolerated, but nurtured—because it offers comfort in a world that feels increasingly alien and unknowable.