Without understanding how illusions become accepted as reality, we risk misdiagnosing the roots of our national dysfunction. In the end, America will only fulfill its democratic promise if it dismantles the myths—sweet on the surface, bitter underneath—that have been hypernormalized to the point of invisibility.
The term hypernormalization describes a paradoxical condition: when a system becomes so dysfunctional yet so entrenched that its contradictions are no longer questioned—they are simply accepted as the way things are. Coined by Russian scholar Alexei Yurchak to describe the late Soviet Union, the concept was later expanded by filmmaker Adam Curtis in his 2016 documentary “HyperNormalisation,” which applied the idea to Western democracies. In such contexts, myth replaces reality—not merely through deception but through collective adaptation. People stop believing the system works but continue to act as if it does because no alternative seems possible.
Hypernormalization occurs when false narratives—crafted and perpetuated by elites, institutions, governments, and segments of the public that benefit from them—become so dominant they reshape what is perceived as truth or possibility. It’s not simply a matter of propaganda; it’s about the erasure of alternatives. Over time, illusion becomes infrastructure. Even those who sense something is wrong often feel powerless to challenge it because questioning the fiction can seem futile—or even dangerous.
In American history, hypernormalization explains not only how injustice persisted but how it was rendered invisible, respectable, or even righteous. The founding myth that “all men are created equal” obscured the reality that equality was reserved for landowning white men. The phrase “land of the free” coexisted with chattel slavery, the genocide and forced removal of Native Americans, and the exclusion of women from public life. Thanksgiving became a celebration of unity rather than a cover for colonial conquest. The idea that America is a meritocracy conceals the ways systemic racism has shaped access to education, housing, healthcare, employment, and justice. Even contemporary debates about diversity and inclusion are often reframed as threats to “fairness,” as if merit were not itself a historically constructed illusion—one that has long benefited the already powerful in systems where hiring and advancement often depend more on who you know than on what you can do.
Hypernormalization also reveals how people—out of fear, indifference, or even moral conviction—participate in sustaining the illusion. It’s not just that they are misled; they are trapped. When alternatives are obscured or framed as chaos, retreating into the familiar becomes the only perceived option.
While overlapping with ideas like ideology, false consciousness, and cognitive dissonance, hypernormalization is more systemic. It’s not only about belief—it’s about how entire social, political, and cultural systems sustain lies so completely that even resistance is co-opted or neutralized because it is futile. The “hyper” in hypernormalization reflects how extreme this normalization becomes: illusions are no longer questioned because they have become so pervasive. The “normalization” refers to how abnormal, harmful conditions—racism, inequality, economic exploitation—fade into the unnoticed backdrop of daily life.
Soviet citizens in the 1980s famously said, “Everyone knew the system didn’t work, but no one could imagine an alternative.” Today, many Americans express a similar resignation toward structural racism, political corruption, and growing inequality—not because they believe the system works, but because they see no viable way to challenge it.
Slavery was normalized in America for over two centuries—legally sanctioned, economically foundational, and morally justified by religious and political leaders, including the nation’s founders. After Emancipation, Jim Crow laws re-normalized racial hierarchy through state policy, policing, and culture, rendering white supremacy both invisible and inevitable to many.
The book “White Fragility” by Robin DiAngelo shows indirectly how hypernormalization functions to sustain racism. The hypernormalization myth is that racism is rare and limited to a few extremists who commit hate crimes or make slurs. In reality, racism is systemic and reproduced daily through institutions, policies, and habits. Many white people, when faced with discussions of race, react with defensiveness, guilt, or denial—emotions that block meaningful engagement. The result is that structural disparities in wealth, policing, health, and education go unchallenged. These disparities are often explained away as natural or merit-based rather than as intentionally engineered and maintained. Colorblindness and meritocracy function as comforting myths that normalize inequality and make racism harder to see—and harder to fight.
Journalist and scholar Amanda J. Crawford, in her address “Seeking Truth in an Age of Lies,” notes that we now live in an era where truth is splintered. “Fake news, conspiracy theories, and propaganda compete alongside legitimate reporting… many of our fellow Americans are far less interested in truth than in promoting their own agendas, beliefs, or political tribe.” This fractured media environment enables false narratives to thrive. Regarding race, Americans are told that racism ended with the Civil Rights Act, that systemic racism is a myth or a “woke” invention, and that DEI initiatives are “reverse racism.” These distortions reinforce the hypernormalized myth of a colorblind society while masking enduring racism—both interpersonal and institutional. In this way, splintered truth doesn’t just obscure reality; it entrenches mythologies that block accountability and reform.
Hypernormalization is not simply about being deceived. It is what happens when myths become so deeply ingrained that they shape the boundaries of what people can imagine. As illusions become internalized, alternatives seem absurd or radical. Reform is dismissed as naïve. Even outrage is defused. This is why movements such as Occupy Wall Street, despite highlighting real economic injustice, faded without structural change. Economic inequality has since grown worse.
“The 1619 Project,” launched by Pulitzer Prize winner Nikole Hannah-Jones in 2019, sought to disrupt one of America’s deepest myths: that the country’s founding was rooted in liberty rather than slavery. By reframing American history through the lens of Black struggle and contribution, it ignited national debate—and backlash. President Trump responded with the 1776 Commission and its widely criticized report, which aimed to restore a sanitized, mythic narrative of American exceptionalism. “The 1776 Report” was historical pablum unworthy of the scholars who wrote it.
The Black Lives Matter movement, which began in 2013, reached its peak of public support after the killing of George Floyd in 2020. Corporations and institutions responded with DEI initiatives that, by 2025, were rolled back by Executive Order under Donald Trump—reflecting how easily resistance can be co-opted or reversed when it threatens entrenched power.
Undoing America’s dysfunctional myths is neither quick nor easy. It requires more than revealing lies—it demands confronting deep contradictions, recovering our capacity to imagine alternative futures, and initiating a mass movement toward truth and justice. That work begins with history, but it must also reckon with the present.
We may indeed be at such a moment. But whether we seize it depends on whether we can finally see through the illusions we’ve come to call normal—and imagine something better in their place.
Day 140: days left to January 20, 2029: 1,322 days
