Bait and Tackle
Picture this.
You are a fish in deep, muggy water, moving with the current and with urgency. Shapes pass through the murk as you brush against other bodies. Sometimes you notice, other times not at all. You’ve gone a while without food and survival is the only instinct when hunger strikes. After searching for some time, you finally see it. Food. A worm or some floating creature, suspended and writhing. It’s effortless and immediate. You lunge. The pain is sudden, sharp through the roof of your mouth. If you are an unknowing fish, you thrash in confusion. If you are one of the few who have watched others vanish after such feasts, you understand that this is the point of no return. You are reeled into their world now, unable to say goodbye or warn the others.
I. A False Bill of Goods
It would be absurd to grant a fish human emotions, yet the hook through the mouth is a deception most of us recognize too late. Those who have not learned the value of exchange often chase what appears freely available, only to discover the hook that follows. Whether it is a charismatic influencer or public figure promising transformation, algorithms dangling curated aspiration, or systems that study your hunger before feeding it back to you as a reward. Artificial demand is the bait and you, the consumer, are the catch.
This is the function of a capitalistic world in which every individual is encouraged to present their product, knowledge, service, or even their existence as something appetizing, necessary, and profitable.
Unlike other creatures that operate on simple instinct, we have evolved to develop needs and desires that no other species experiences. Context determines what is seen as necessary and what is seen as indulgent. To understand this system, it is crucial to observe the environments in which exchanges take place, which in our society is everywhere.
In environments where most needs are met, demand is low. Settings saturated with emotional and economic stability reduce the urgency of survival. These environments favor aesthetic and luxury markets, where the focus shifts from being served to how one is served. Tailored or bespoke services, unmatched care, aesthetic harmony, privacy, and exclusivity become the hook.
Alternatively, environments that lack meaning yet maintain high standards sustain high demand. These settings are often starved of real fulfillment and compensate with spectacle. When human needs remain unmet, individuals turn to easy forms of consumption that offer temporary relief. Escapism creates the illusion of removal from suffering. The longer one remains suspended in that relief, the easier it becomes to ignore the risks below. In theory this works, but eventually the rope snaps.
In such environments, even the most cautious learn to bite. Before long, debt rises, friendships grow distant, and one’s relationship with reality becomes strained. Wants begin to outweigh needs, and the more the world rewards this confusion, the deeper one sinks.
II. Hunger Meets Hunger
History repeatedly shows that wealth is rarely destroyed and instead redistributed. There is a familiar saying, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and in this context it applies with uncomfortable precision.
I remember vividly when a close colleague struggled with credit card debt and the situation eventually led to litigation. When the papers were served, it became clear that the debt had been charged off and sold to another company to manage. This office did not trouble itself with gentle reminders. Instead, it issued lawsuits while describing its role as bridging the gap between creditor and consumer. To the new debt owner, this downfall quickly became a hidden treasure.
My colleague would often ask, who would buy a debt? Who would take on another person’s liability merely to recover a fraction of the original amount. I eventually learned the answer. A person who buys debt is someone who sees opportunity where others see loss. It is a market unconcerned with morality, context, or emotion. It deals in numbers and seeks to reduce friction wherever possible. To the consumer, the experience is different. They are pressured, inconvenienced, and encouraged to resolve the situation under stress and without accommodation. To the debt owner, what collapsed in one set of hands becomes the foundation of new growth.
What became trash to Polaroid as an outdated technology became treasure to Fujifilm, which repositioned instant cameras as nostalgic lifestyle products. Similarly, Blockbuster dismissed online distribution as worthless, yet Netflix recognized its future value and built an empire from it. Some people revive abandoned ventures with better information and greater patience. Others invest in systems that perpetuate consumer dependency rather than independence. This is not a new business practice, but it is the distinction between recognizing opportunity and deliberately profiting from another person’s collapse.
Two individuals may live vastly different lives and occupy opposite ends of the world, yet remain bound within the same system. For those with unmet needs, it becomes increasingly difficult to recognize what is essential and even harder to meet those needs in stable and sustainable ways when unseen forces benefit from keeping you predictable and dependent.
This is hardly personal, though it often feels that way to those on the losing end.
Hypothetically, imagine if fish evolved to become self-feeding, no longer relying on bait or external sources. It would be ideal for the fish, yet disastrous for the fisherman whose livelihood depends on their hunger. It is easy to draw a distinction between man and fish, yet we often classify and distance ourselves from one another for similar reasons. Distance preserves comfort. It is far simpler to cast a line from afar than to confront the uncomfortable truth that the hook you set for others is not so different from the one that could one day pierce your own mouth.
III. The Aesthetics of Exploitation
This system is not inherently beautiful, so it is preserved by coating it in gains, reframes, and pleasure. Instead of a carcass, we are presented with a carefully prepared steak. Instead of child labor and exploitation, we are offered affordable luxury and the language of efficiency and cost cutting.
As André Leon Talley once remarked:
“It is a famine of beauty.”
We elevate and dress up the deeper, animalistic tendencies that drive us to exploit for our own advancement. Over time, those who wield such power learn to integrate the darker truths, and their bait becomes the ability to present this truth as mystique—fashionable, tasteful, and as far removed from public view as possible.
This is a stage where the origins of what you receive are obscured. The magician is removed from the trick. The player detached from the hand. Things simply arrive, packaged and complete, as if by magic. When no one claims ownership, it is easy to believe you somehow willed it into existence.
The illusion of choice has long been perfected by charmers, seducers, and institutions alike. Society understands that people are far more willing to accept a controlled outcome when they believe they arrived there on their own. For this reason, many remain hooked, bound to another they will never truly know.
