The police officer of other people’s words

(By Hella Ahmed) Take one particularly vocal self-appointed agent of order, he has damaged real people’s lives because he decided, at a particular moment, that his shifting judgment on an issue was infallible. Conveniently, he reserves the right to reverse his own previous positions without ever being held accountable, something he denies to others. He has actively worked to exclude certain individuals from public discourse, blocking them from business opportunities.

The rat’s technique 

He fixates on specific people, thinking about them far more than he probably admits. He plans on producing the same style of opinionated commentary for the next twenty years. He shows no interest in broadening his perspective or doing serious intellectual work. Deep reading or absorbing complex ideas appears to be off the table (whether from laziness, disinterest, or simple incapacity).

Whenever he needs to land a sharp point or solid structure in a supposedly progressive or morally charged piece, he turns almost exclusively to the same external creative source—not merely for inspiration, but for the core spark and punchlines. It isn’t occasional; it’s his primary method for feigning originality. He is very weak, extremely needy and boring. 

I say “hunger,” and he’ll echo it almost immediately—he’s locked onto what I publish the instant it appears, a habit that’s persisted for years. I drop “throat,” and the word resurfaces, multiplied, in his next column. This mirroring of single words or concepts happens without delay; he right away absorbs and posts something that nods toward it, always with the posture of someone delivering a subtle correction or humbling. The pattern never changes: he keeps drawing fuel from my ideas, which only confirms how unshakable his fixation remains. He sees his trajectory as a writer as permanently bound to mine—like someone addicted to a lifelong competition.

Terminal fixation 

What rivalry could that possibly be? On grounds of mental equilibrium and self-possession, he has already lost; the obsession appears compulsive. On grounds of genuine intellectual substance, there’s no contest—his writing accounts to little more than gossip repackaged as moral or social commentary. And on the very issue he so frequently polices—escaping echo chambers—his position collapses entirely. His concerns regarding social media appear to be mostly driven by frustration: the individuals he has targeted (with apparent indifference to the harm) are able to respond, build momentum, and flourish anyway.

I consider him neither adversary nor equal—just a persistent drain on energy, someone hooked on siphoning others, having developed no autonomous creative existence. 

Figures of this kind are profoundly exhausting. One feels no inclination to converse with them, to dignify them with replies, or to expend effort explaining personal endeavours in order to conduct legitimate business undisturbed. There is no duty to debate them into relevance or to accommodate behavior that so clearly crosses into fixation and intrusion.

The irony of echo chambers:

Every time this person pours out another piece, it’s loaded with hints dressed up as moral lessons or cautionary tales and reframing. Each one gives him a kick, a paycheck, and—in his mind—some kind of victory. The whole routine seems built to cause a little hurt, or strip away the validity of a writing career that never asked for—and certainly doesn’t need—his approval or permission to exist and succeed. My work stands on its own; it doesn’t rely on his insignificant opinions to have real weight or reach the people it’s meant for.

Isn’t this the very definition of an echo chamber in perpetual loop? 

The same circuit running for years, where double standards reign unchallenged: he lectures others on the perils of algorithmic isolation and closed-mindedness while operating inside the narrowest echo of all—one built around his own compulsive and toxic need to control successful people, especially me, to orbit and feed off someone else’s output. 

He can go to Hell 

Arguing with someone who shows clear signs of covert narcissism—like gaslighting, blame shifting, fake moral outrage, narrow thinking, and the same repetitive patterns over and over—is just a waste of time. Life starts feeling heavier when a person like that keeps hanging around. They are unable to keep their distance, even though you’ve shown zero interest in any kind of connection. We all deal with burdens in toxic situations; the healthiest thing to do is see the bad atmosphere for what it is—and simply reject it.

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