By Charlie Angus, author of Dangerous Memory.

As someone who grew up in the early 1980s, I know a thing or two about the fears of a dystopian future. I was one of hundreds of thousands who marched in those years to stop an ever-escalating nuclear crisis. And I remember 1984. My generation grew up with Orwell’s dark vision of totalitarian control. As that date moved steadily closer, I worried what the “future” would look like when it finally arrived. Well, it took 40 years, but 1984 has finally landed.

I must admit, I didn’t think it would be like this.

First off, let’s consider the 2024 US presidential election. It is no exaggeration to state that the future of democracy, the rule of law, and world stability may be on the table. But even more dystopic is the fact that in a race between a strong woman leader with an impressive track record and an unhinged demagogue/convicted criminal, it could even be close.

The Trump phenomenon symbolises the shocking level of dysfunction cutting across all levels of democratic engagement. You can see it in the frightening rise of death threats against local town councillors, or in the politicians at the provincial, state, and federal levels who openly promote conspiracy theories and chase after internet falsehoods.

Recent Abacus polling found that 44 percent of Canadians believe that a secret group of elites is controlling elections, recessions, and wars. Thirty-seven percent are inclined to believe the racist “replacement theory.” The poll also found that 13 percent think Bill Gates is tracking us with microchips, while another 21 percent are unsure if he is actually doing it but believe such things are possible.

Orwell envisioned a future of slogans driven by fear. But these statistics speak less about fear and more about gullibility. How did we become so susceptible?

Here again, we can look to 1984.

The monumental year arrived in a big way, but it wasn’t the future we feared at all. The night was January 22, 1984, when a California computer company called Apple went all in with a Superbowl ad by Ridley Scott that played on our 1984 fears. It showed the dark, dystopic, fascist uniformity of the Orwellian nightmare. The defining moment came when a young woman in colour appeared through the grey and smashed the TV screens. And then the punch line: “you’ll see why 1984 won’t be like 1984.”

We were sold. I know I was. The techno-fascist state could be beaten. Silicon Valley promised a future of connectivity, individual autonomy, and freedom. All we had to do was buy the gadgets.

And then more gadgets. And more.

In the 80s, the 90s, and for good parts of the early 2000s, I believed that if people had the power to do their own research and create networks of increasingly large groups who only knew each other through their digital IP address, it would inevitably lead to increasing creativity and democracy.

This was the pitch given to us by the Silicon Valley pioneers. They were presented as idealistic mavericks willing to move fast and break the stodgy political and economic structures holding us back. But from the beginning, the digital revolution was driven by a culture of toxic masculinity deeply rooted, as author Max Fisher writes, in “the unashamed capitalism of the Reagan ’80s.” They believed that they had the right to arbitrarily rewire democracy and society. What could possibly go wrong?

The 1984 Mac ad promised individual autonomy in the face of mass conformity and state surveillance. What we failed to grasp was the cost that came from allowing a few tech giants to rewire everything from democracy to our personal relationships. We paid little attention as our every online move was tracked by ever-powerful machine-driven AI. Few noticed when our online “experiences” were siloed into increasingly isolated chambers of information. Only the tech giants knew that the secret sauce of the digital revolution was that disinformation and rage were the most powerful drivers to keep our eyes locked on the screen.

I write this as a recovering digital utopian. Our global economies have been rewired to the benefit of libertarian capitalists. Our addiction to gadgets has led to measurable breakdowns in social trust and rising online hate.

So, let’s go back to that night in January, 1984. Writing on the 40^th anniversary of the iconic 1984 Apple ad, Siva Vaidhyathan suggests that was the moment where the long 21^st century began. And 40 years on from that bold and inspiring ad, the future we find ourselves in looks so much bleaker: “Democracy is in tatters around the world. Networked computers drain pleasure and humanity out of relationships, communities, and societies. Economies are more stratified than ever. Politics are evacuated of any positive vision of a better future.”

It took four decades, but 1984 finally arrived. It isn’t the grey world of military strongmen but toxic AI, trillionaire capitalists, and grifter politicians. But what is perhaps the most dystopian factor is just how dumb and mean it is.

I know that there are other lessons from the 80s to show us a better way. They are the dangerous memories to help unwire our lives into a more sustainable future.

Dangerous Memory by Charlie Angus is available now.