It used to be fun.

Following the news. Chasing the next what-if. The next story seed. The next fiction worth writing.

Now?

Now it just feels like the story is writing itself. And it’s not fiction anymore.

It’s real. Too real. We’re staring down something that doesn’t have one name. So I’ll give it mine.

The coming civil wars.

Yes—wars. Plural.

Because this isn’t one nation breaking. It’s a world cracking open. Europe is already smoldering. Protests flood the streets.
Anti-Israel.
Pro-Palestine.
Anti-Ukraine aid.
Anti-West.
Anti-immigration.

And right next to it?
Patriots waving flags.
Nationalists raising voices.
Counter-protests chanting “Take Our Country Back.”

Two sides. Same streets. Same cities. Different truths. And in the middle of it all?

Rising costs.
Empty wallets.
Frustrated families.
Boiling tempers.

People are snapping. Not because they’re evil. Because they’re exhausted.

And every side thinks they’re right. Not just right—they believe they’re the good.

That’s the problem. When you’re certain you’re good, then everyone else? Must be bad.

There’s no middle anymore. No nuance. No listening. It’s us or them.

And media? They’re not helping. They’re not even trying.

The clicks are too good. The rage sells. The division fuels profits. So they amplify it. Spotlight it. Spin it. And feed it to the algorithm gods.

Because that’s where this all lives now—in the feeds.

In the For You pages.

In the filtered firehoses.

Everyone scrolling. Everyone siloed. Everyone fed a version of reality that fits their version of truth.

It’s called cognitive dissonance.

It happens when people hold conflicting beliefs—but instead of confronting them, they double down on the one that makes them feel safest.

It’s not stupidity. It’s survival. But it creates echo chambers. It builds digital tribes. It breeds enemies out of neighbors.

And it’s global.

Australia—yes, quiet, stable Australia—is now on the protest map. Marching in the streets. Fights breaking out. It’s spreading.

Fast.

Faster than anyone expected. Governments are already scrambling. Some choose a side. They have to. You can’t govern everyone when everyone is divided. And when they do? They alienate the other side. That side feels betrayed. Abandoned. Targeted.

They push back.

Governments respond with force. Harsh sentences. Crackdowns. Censorship. It’s supposed to deter unrest. But it does the opposite.

It fuels the fire.

We’re not there yet. But we’re close.

Really close.

Closer than most people want to admit. And the scariest part? Nobody knows what this war will look like.

Not exactly.

It won’t be uniformed armies. It won’t be trenches and tanks.
It’ll be internal.
It’ll be local.
It’ll be chaos.

You’ll see neighbors turn on each other. And still—both sides will believe they’re saving the world.

History repeats. We’ve been here before.
Rome.
The Balkans.
The Arab Spring.

And each time, people said it couldn’t happen to them. Until it did.

Look, maybe I’m wrong.

God, I hope I’m wrong.

But when every sign points to heat…
When every pressure valve is hissing…
When every crowd is shouting…

You can’t just shrug and say, “It’s fine.”

Because it’s not.

This feels like the tipping point.

The world is hot. And people are hotter.

All it takes now is a spark.

I’m just a fiction author.

I see patterns. I chase what-ifs. But this time, the pattern is clear. And the what-if is more like a when.

I pray for cool heads.

I really do.

But right now?

I don’t know if cool heads still exist.

Stay safe. And try to remember that everyone believes they are on the right side of good. Perhaps if we can approach it from that viewpoint, we can get past our differences and prevent the coming civil wars.

Ben