YouTube is full of moral crusaders, wannabe guardians of societal values who scream about the decay of morality from their digital soapboxes. But take it from me. This performative outrage, this loud and public display of moral indignation, is nothing more than a cheap parlor trick and a cynical play for attention.
The algorithm-chasing guardians of virtue espouse a version of morality that’s as rigid as it is narrow. Their worldview is built on a foundation of strict rules, neatly defined boxes, and a heavy dose of conservatism. They cling desperately and embarrassingly to outdated notions of “traditional values,” veering wildly into territory that’s blatantly homophobic, transphobic, and resistant to social progress. Their version of morality isn’t informed by compassion, understanding, or personal growth — it’s conformity to a set of arbitrary standards rooted in bigotry and fear of change.
They rail against LGBT rights, denounce any deviation from their narrow definition of “normal,” and attempt to police others’ personal lives and choices, obsessed with the bedroom, the bathroom and the beyond. In doing so, they reveal that their concept of morality is less about fostering a just and equitable society, and more about maintaining a status quo that benefits them and aligns with their prejudices. This rules-based, exclusionary approach to ethics not only fails to address the complex moral challenges of our time it actively contributes to the marginalization and suffering of vulnerable groups.
So why the fuck does it keep working?
These aspiring moral crusaders are exploiting a fundamental truth of human psychology — we’re hardwired to pay attention to threats, especially threats to our way of life. It’s an evolutionary hangover from our days as cave-dwelling primates, when vigilance meant survival.
By positioning themselves as the town criers of moral decay, these individuals tap into our fear of societal collapse. They paint vivid pictures of a world gone wrong, a dystopian future where all that we hold dear has been corrupted or destroyed. In doing so, they cast themselves as the heroes of this narrative, the wise sages who saw the signs and sounded the alarm.
These loud proclamations of moral superiority are nothing more than a smokescreen, a diversionary tactic employed by those who, deep down, know they have very fucking little of substance to offer. True wisdom and real moral depth don’t need to announce themselves with fanfare and fireworks. They speak in quieter tones, manifest in actions rather than words, and are content to let their impact speak for itself.
For many of these loud moralists, their crusade is less about saving society and more about saving face. It’s a desperate attempt to imbue their otherwise unremarkable existence with a sense of purpose and importance. By screaming about values, they hope to create the illusion of depth and convince others (and perhaps themselves) that they possess some special insight into the human condition.
The irony is that in their desperate bid to be seen as morally superior, the loud public moralists often reveal their own ethical bankruptcy. Real moral fiber doesn’t point fingers or shout slogans. It’s driven to and by the hard, unglamorous work of living according to one’s principles, making tough choices even when no one is looking, and treating others with kindness and respect, when there’s no personal gain involved.
The YouTube crusaders are not values-driven. They’re ego-driven. Their sermons are a desperate need to feel important, to be seen as significant in a world that feels indifferent to our existence. In their zealous pursuit of moral authority, they lose sight of the very values they claim to uphold, becoming so focused on identifying and denouncing the failings of others that they neglect their own moral fucking development.
Society doesn’t fucking need more loud, pearl clutching, rabid moralists. We need individuals who embody values in their daily lives, who lead by example rather than by volume. We need real moral heroes who aren’t screaming on street corners or denouncing people on social media for not fitting into a rigid morality box.
Morality isn’t a matter of who can shout the loudest or who can express the most outrage. The most powerful moral statement we can make isn’t a viral video or a trending hashtag. It’s the sum total of our actions, the way we choose to live our lives day in and day out. It’s walking the walk, not just talking the talk. It’s how we treat each other, how we treat ourselves and how we strive to be better tomorrow than we were yesterday and today.
That, unlike the hollow cries of the moral clickbait crusaders, is something worth aspiring to. It may not get you millions of views or a trending spot on YouTube, but it will contribute to a world that’s a little better, a little kinder, and a little more understanding.
And isn’t that the whole point of morality in the first place?
