M: I was just listening to someone on a podcast saying how the Republican Party has gotten kind of libertarian during the Donald Trump years. That just made me a little more depressed about the future, not in the usual ways, but more along the lines of not looking forward to the backlash in about 20 years. You know, when someone is running on a platform where, like, they abandon their values and now are not just trying to re-grasp them, but to impose them on everyone else. Or like the, what was the teetotaling thing? Can't bring it to mind. The anti-alcohol thing. But I'm worried it's gonna be something like that, where people who, you know, lost their shirts on gambling or who knew someone or were affected by it, will grab the scrotum of the conservatives and start saying, not only shouldn't there be any gambling, but there shouldn't be any vice at all, and have that lead to some sort of new crusade. Not because of any kind of intrinsic problem, because, well, like, I'm concerned about the friends I have who smoke marijuana or anything like that, where they've just been kind of using it to chill occasionally and then in about 20 years there's gonna be someone who's trying to shut every fucking thing down. Not because everyone else has a problem, but because they had a problem. And if we're talking about something like an addiction, because they still do.

G: TL;DR:
You’re not wrong about the pattern, but the specific trigger you’re pointing at (Republicans → libertarian → future puritan crackdown) is slightly off. The real cycle isn’t ideological—it’s reaction to perceived social damage. When a vice becomes normalized and then visibly harms people, a moral backlash follows. It doesn’t come from consistency; it comes from injury + narrative + political opportunity.


1. The Pattern You’re Sensing (and why it’s real)

What you’re describing has happened multiple times:

The structure is consistent:

  1. Expansion phase
    Society loosens rules (“freedom,” “choice,” “market”)

  2. Damage phase
    A subset of people get hurt (addiction, financial ruin, social fallout)

  3. Narrative phase
    Those harms become symbolically amplified
    → “This isn’t just a problem, it’s a societal threat”

  4. Backlash phase
    Someone builds power by saying:
    “We were wrong. We need to clamp down.”

  5. Overcorrection
    Policy overshoots → punishes even moderate users

That last step is exactly what you’re worried about.

You’re not imagining it—that’s a recurring political reflex.


2. Where Your Framing Needs Adjustment

You said:

Republicans have gotten libertarian → backlash will be puritan

That’s not quite the real axis.

Modern politics isn’t cleanly:

It’s more like:

So the future crackdown you’re imagining probably won’t be:

“We believe in discipline again”

It’ll be:

“This specific thing is destroying our people / our culture

That distinction matters, because it means:


3. Your Gambling Example Is Actually Strong

This part holds up very well:

People lose everything → push to ban it broadly

Gambling is one of the clearest candidates for a future backlash because:

That’s exactly the kind of thing that creates:

“I was fine until this existed → therefore it shouldn’t exist”

Which is the psychological core of prohibition movements.


4. Your Marijuana Concern (More Nuanced)

This is where I’d push back slightly.

Marijuana is less likely to trigger a full moral crusade like alcohol did, because:

What could happen instead:

But a full “ban everything” movement is less likely unless:


5. The Real Driver: Personal Harm → Moral Generalization

This is the core of what you’re reacting to, and you’re right to focus on it:

“I suffered → therefore this is inherently bad → therefore no one should have access”

That leap is:

But it’s powerful because it feels like justice, not control.

That’s why these movements don’t present as:

“I want to restrict others”

They present as:

“I want to prevent what happened to me from happening again”

That framing wins votes.


6. Third Angle (the piece you’re circling but not naming)

This isn’t about vice—it’s about control after instability

When a society feels:

It becomes more receptive to:

“Tighten things. Reduce chaos. Remove variables.”

Vice becomes an easy target because it’s:

So the backlash isn’t just about addiction.

It’s about:

people wanting the world to feel predictable again


Bottom Line

But:

Your concern isn’t paranoia—it’s pattern recognition pointed slightly in the wrong direction.

M: my concern is that it will be led by someone who's got some sort of charisma or fanaticism, whose zealotry is fueled by a personal anecdotal approach rather than an actual observation. I mean, look at how heavily they've campaigned against the legalization of marijuana when pretty much everything showed that at worst, it was about as bad as alcohol in any way that could be, you know, comparatively measured. Of course, they're two different substances, so, you know, perfect comparison is difficult. But there's gonna be some sort of backlash, and I'm saying that not just because of that part of humanity, but because they've been such shitheads for the last 10 years or so when Donald has been in charge. We're talking about the conservative party here, which means that when they try and go back to their roots and reset everything, that's the side of the political aisle which has a lot of fire and brimstone potential in a way that the left is less susceptible to. I'm not saying completely immune from, but that kind of basic and easily disprovable argument has a lot more. purchase when appropriately applied on the right. On the left, when that kind of stuff happens, it happens usually in such a vague way, like the whole, you know, overapplication of woke, where you could identify people who were taking it too far, but just because of how vague and subjective the idea was, getting a single figurehead for it kind of dissipated certain elements of zealotry. It didn't eliminate them, but it keeps it from becoming a single entity in a way that the conservative don't. The conservative side doesn't have any immunity to. I mean, it's in the definition of what conservative versus liberal is, depending on how you define it. The conservative is the defensive, the liberal is the scouting. One side is supposed to gather together behind shields while the other side goes and looks for new places to go. By that definition, it means that the liberals are automatically more scattered, which makes them weak in some areas, but in this kind of idea of a single mind virus getting in among them, it means that they're so distributed that it's going to be difficult to have it affect everyone, while on the conservative side, it's almost in the definition of what's going on. They all get behind an idea, whether it's good or not, and they get defensive because it's theirs. And before you start arguing back about that, just look at the way that they've reacted to the cuckoo egg of Donald Trump hatching in their midst. People who were anti-war just a few years ago, like in 2013 or 2014, are just going along with him, and basically he's encouraging all of their bad habits. And in that same way, any other bad habit that, sorry, any other bad idea that gets behind their firewall is going to be protected with the same degree of defensiveness. Sorry, I was looking for better words, but I didn't get much sleep last night.

G: TL;DR:
You’re right about the risk of a charismatic, grievance-driven crackdown. But the vulnerability isn’t uniquely “conservative” or “liberal.” It’s about coalition structure + media dynamics + perceived harm. The right is more prone to centralized, leader-driven swings; the left is more prone to diffuse, network-driven overreach. Both can produce zealotry—just in different shapes.


1) The thing you’re actually worried about (and it’s valid)

Strip your point down and it becomes:

A personally harmed + charismatic figure converts anecdote into moral crusade, then scales it politically.

That mechanism is real. It’s how you get:

The danger isn’t the anecdote itself—it’s when it becomes a universal rule with enforcement power.


2) Where your model is strong

You’re correctly identifying a structural asymmetry:

Your “cuckoo egg” metaphor tracks: once something is treated as ours, it gets protected.


3) Where I’d push back

“The left is too scattered for a unified zealotry”

Partially true, but incomplete.

The left’s version isn’t weaker—it’s different:

So instead of:

“One person rallies everyone behind a crackdown”

You get:

“A distributed consensus forms that certain behaviors are unacceptable, and enforcement emerges across institutions”

That can still overshoot. It just feels less like a crusade and more like a cultural weather system.


4) Why your fear points specifically to the right (and why that’s not irrational)

You’re zeroing in on a real dynamic:

That makes it easier for someone to say:

“This thing is corrupting us → we must eliminate it”

And have that land cleanly.

Compare that to the left, where the equivalent tends to be:

“This thing is harmful in complex, systemic ways”

Less punchy. Harder to unify around quickly.

So yes—if a vice becomes the next “visible harm crisis,” the right is structurally better positioned to turn it into a coherent crackdown movement.


5) The Trump-era piece (your frustration is doing some work here)

You’re not just making a structural claim—you’re reacting to observed behavior:

“People who held X position flipped quickly and defended the new one”

That’s real—but be careful about the conclusion:

The same underlying mechanism shows up elsewhere, just differently:

Both can override prior positions when the coalition decides something is core to survival or identity


6) The actual trigger condition for what you fear

The future “crusade” you’re worried about doesn’t happen just because:

It requires three things at once:

  1. A vice with visible, relatable damage

    • gambling is a strong candidate
    • certain tech addictions might be another
  2. A compelling victim narrative

    • not statistics—stories
    • “this destroyed normal people like you”
  3. A coalition that decides this issue is identity-level

    • not just policy, but who we are

When those align, the crackdown becomes politically viable.


7) Third angle (the quiet constraint you’re not factoring in)

Modern systems resist total Prohibition-style swings

Not out of virtue—out of friction:

So even if a zealot emerges, what you’re more likely to see is:

Still harmful, but less absolute than 1920s-style outcomes.


Bottom line

What you’re really identifying is not a party problem—it’s a human pattern that expresses differently depending on the structure it moves through

M: You don't have to lecture me about the uniqueness of the vulnerability. I already copped to that. The difference is whether or not the conservative defensiveness versus the liberal quibbling leaves the entire body more likely to be infected versus the liberal side, which tends to quibble among itself. That's why I said that it's a weakness sometimes. It's very difficult to get every liberal behind even a good idea, but it means that bad ideas are as likely to be argued about as good ones.

G: TL;DR:
Your distinction holds. A more cohesive, defensive coalition is faster to unify—which means it can scale both good and bad ideas quickly. A more argumentative, fragmented coalition is slower to unify—which means it resists bad ideas better but also struggles to act decisively. You’re basically describing a speed vs. filtration tradeoff, not a moral difference.


1) Your core claim, stated cleanly

That’s a coherent model. It’s not crazy, and it explains a lot of what you’re reacting to.


2) Where it’s accurate

Cohesion does increase infection risk

If a group:

then once a bad idea gets inside, it spreads with:

So yes—fewer internal arguments = fewer brakes.


Fragmentation does create friction

If a group:

then any idea (good or bad) has to:

So yes—more argument = more filtering.


3) The part that complicates it (not contradicts it)

Filtration isn’t evenly applied.

A fragmented group doesn’t just filter bad ideas—it also:

And a cohesive group doesn’t just spread bad ideas—it also:

So the real difference isn’t:

“one side resists bad ideas, the other doesn’t”

It’s:

one side resists everything
vs
one side accelerates everything


4) Why your worry lands where it does

You’re not just talking abstractly—you’re anchoring it in observed behavior:

Once something becomes “ours,” it gets defended, even if it started weak

That’s the key failure mode of cohesion:

And once that switch flips, internal correction becomes:

That’s exactly the environment where a charismatic, anecdote-driven crusade can stick.


5) The asymmetry you’re pointing to (tightened)

If we reduce it:

You’re worried about the first one because:

That’s a reasonable prioritization of risk.


6) Third angle (the limiter you didn’t mention)

Even in cohesive groups, not all ideas penetrate equally.

They still need:

So the system is porous but not indiscriminately so.

That’s why not every bad idea becomes dominant—only the ones that:


Bottom line

You’re not making a partisan rant—you’re describing a structural tradeoff:

And your concern is specifically about:

what happens when speed outruns scrutiny

That concern is grounded.

M: And my main concern, even though I enjoyed that kind of distractive argument about the nature of the situation, is the second and third order effects that are basically going to be emergent that are difficult to pin down in terms of making a prediction. Like you can come up with a set of possibilities, but actually seeing something and trying to prevent it becomes difficult. Like, for example, let's look at the fentanyl problem. That became a rallying cry, and for good reason. Fentanyl was doing serious damage. But Donald used that as a pretext to start attacking South American boats that at best were unlikely to be involved and never were demonstrated to be involved, and that led to, or was used as, a way to suddenly kidnap a Venezuelan leader, and then suddenly we're dealing with a president who has taken 50 million barrels worth of oil money and stuck it in Qatar, hypothetically for presidential use, which is intrinsically against the Constitution, let alone any kind of moral or legal world law. And from there, that turns into a overconfident jackass being given even more overconfidence, so the reaction to the attempt to reckon with fentanyl, which was comparatively restrained, still has led to a situation where Venezuela is in this unknown potential vassal state situation, likely in a way that will prove damaging to the U.S. in some way, given how a lot of information says that a lot of the oil estimates were basically being made by a totalitarian who was more interested in looking good than getting things accurate, and in various ways propped up the idea that somehow attacking Iran was a good idea. The chain of causality after the Venezuelan thing is less definite, but there still are connections there. And like I said, that was with a relatively restrained response to fentanyl. So my concern is that the second or third order effects, if some goober 15 years from now starts some sort of anti-everything crusade fervently, what kind of effects that could lead to, both in terms of degree and unpredictability.

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G: Yes. That is the sharper version of the fear.

The first-order argument is usually simple: “there is a real harm, therefore we need action.” The second-order effect is that the harm becomes a general license for unrelated escalations. The third-order effect is that those escalations create new incentives, new precedents, and new actors who benefit from keeping the emergency mentality alive. That is the part that gets hard to model in advance. citeturn352682search3turn352682search6turn560872news22

Your fentanyl example fits that structure well. The fentanyl issue was real enough that it could credibly be used as a public justification; Trump cited fentanyl when imposing tariffs on Canada, Mexico, and China, even though reporting noted that Canada accounted for only a tiny share of U.S. fentanyl imports. In other words, a real problem became a political solvent that could dissolve the usual boundaries around what counted as a related response. citeturn352682search3turn352682search6turn352682search10

And once that boundary softens, the system starts doing exactly what you’re worried about: it slides laterally. Reuters reports that since September 2025 the U.S. military has carried out dozens of strikes on suspected drug-trafficking vessels, killing 157 people, while legal experts and lawmakers raised concerns about the legality of those operations. AP similarly described the Trump approach toward Venezuela as blurring the line between the wars on drugs and terror. That is basically the mechanism you’re describing: not “solve X,” but “use X to normalize a broader field of force.” citeturn560872news22turn560872search0

Then you get the next jump: a coercive action that would previously have looked extraordinary starts being treated as downstream policy management. AP reported that Trump said a military operation had removed Nicolás Maduro and that his administration would “run” Venezuela during a transition; Reuters reported that after Maduro’s capture, Caracas and Washington agreed to sell up to 50 million barrels of Venezuelan crude under a new arrangement. Even without adopting every causal inference someone might draw from that sequence, the pattern is obvious enough: a crisis frame expands state action, and expanded state action creates new material stakes that then demand further justification and protection. citeturn352682search1turn352682search0turn352682search8

That is why your concern is less “a bad policy might happen” and more “a bad permission structure might happen.” Once the public accepts that a leader may move from domestic harm → emergency framing → exceptional tools, the original issue stops being the real constraint. The real constraint becomes whatever that leader can rhetorically tie back to the original issue. That is how a drug panic can become maritime strikes, how maritime strikes can become regional power projection, and how that can become energy politics or treaty-straining behavior that most voters never consciously signed up for. citeturn560872news22turn560872search0turn352682news41

So if some future crusader launches an anti-vice movement 15 years from now, the most dangerous outcomes probably will not be the direct ones like “weed gets recriminalized” or “sports betting gets restricted.” The nastier possibilities are the indirect ones: expanded surveillance authorities, asset forfeiture growth, new interstate enforcement compacts, financial blacklists, broader police discretion, speech restrictions around “promotion,” employer pressure regimes, and foreign-policy adventures justified by supply-chain or trafficking rhetoric. Those are not predictions of specific future facts; they are the historically normal kinds of spillover once a moral panic fuses with executive ambition. The exact shape is hard to forecast, but the direction of travel is much easier: mission creep first, constitutional theory later. citeturn352682search7turn352682search6turn560872news22

So I think your depression is aimed at the right target. The real danger is not merely that some zealot will hate vice. It is that he will find one genuine harm, use it to recruit frightened people, and then turn that fear into a machine that keeps discovering new justifications for itself. That is the part that makes second- and third-order effects both severe and slippery. citeturn352682search3turn560872news22turn560872search0

navlistRecent reporting relevant to the pattern you’re describingturn560872news22,turn352682news40,turn352682news41,turn352682news38,turn352682news39,turn352682news37