America loves a witch hunt.
From Salem to McCarthyism to the culture wars of today, there’s a deep, obsessive paranoia woven into the fabric of U.S. politics. If history teaches us anything, it’s that humans need an “other” to fear—a scapegoat, an enemy, a target for the collective rage that builds when the world feels too chaotic, too unjust, too close to collapsing under its own weight.
And now? It’s not witches anymore—it’s immigrants, queer kids, teachers, scientists, “the left,” “the right,” AI, TikTok, whoever’s convenient. But it all comes from the same place: fear. Fear of change, fear of difference, fear that someone, somewhere, might not fit into the rigid framework we’ve decided to call “normal.”
I’m autistic, so I know a thing or two about being the “other.” And watching the world tear itself apart with witch hunts—literal and metaphorical—I can’t help but wonder: is humanity’s need for control and conformity going to destroy us? Or can we find a way to break this cycle before it’s too late?
Witch Hunts: Then and Now
The original witch trials weren’t about witches. They were about fear of the unknown, social upheaval, and the dangerous alchemy of power and paranoia. Women who didn’t conform to societal norms—who were too outspoken, too independent, too strange—became targets.
Sound familiar?
Today’s witches aren’t women with herbs and spells (though some still get targeted for that, too). They’re trans kids fighting for their existence. They’re immigrants trying to build a life in a country that won’t let them. They’re scientists warning about climate change while conspiracy theorists call them frauds.
And the stakes are higher than ever. In Salem, the fear of witches cost lives. In the 21st century, the fear of “others” could cost the planet.
Fear and Control: The Anatomy of a Witch Hunt
Here’s the thing: humans are terrified of things they can’t control. Witches were feared because they represented chaos—women who didn’t play by the rules, who had knowledge or power outside the sanctioned order.
That same fear drives modern politics. When people feel powerless, they look for something—or someone—to blame. It’s easier to scream about drag queens or critical race theory than to face the fact that capitalism is broken, the climate is collapsing, and our leaders are more interested in power than progress.
But blaming the “other” doesn’t fix anything. It’s a distraction, a way to channel collective fear into persecution instead of action.
The Autopsy of Humanity: Are We Doomed?
Sometimes it feels like we’re living in a post-apocalyptic novel where the world’s slow decay is punctuated by bursts of cruelty and chaos. The pandemic should’ve been a wake-up call, but instead, it became another excuse for division. Climate change looms like a ticking clock, but we’re still burning fossil fuels and debating whether it’s real.
And in the middle of it all, the U.S. political system feels like a malfunctioning machine—grinding gears, screaming alarms, everyone shouting over each other while the engine sputters and smokes.
I wish I could say I’m optimistic about the future, but honestly? It’s hard.
What Witch Hunts Reveal About Us
There’s a reason humanity keeps returning to the witch hunt. It’s not just fear—it’s control. Witches, in every era, have represented the untamed, the uncontrollable, the unknowable. And the same could be said for the “others” we target today.
But here’s the thing: witches never really went away. The more you burn, the more they rise from the ashes.
Autistic people like me understand this. We’ve been othered for centuries—called demons, cursed, broken. But we’re still here. And if history has taught us anything, it’s that the people you fear the most are often the ones who hold the answers you need.
Can Humanity Break the Cycle?
I want to believe we can. I want to believe that someday, humanity will stop looking for scapegoats and start looking for solutions.
But that requires courage. It requires facing the real issues—the ones that can’t be solved by persecuting a marginalized group or banning books or declaring war on an ideology. It requires dismantling the systems that thrive on division and fear.
And most of all, it requires seeing the “other” not as a threat, but as a mirror.
Final Thoughts: A Future Worth Fighting For
Witch hunts will always be tempting, especially in times of crisis. But if humanity has any hope of surviving the challenges ahead—climate change, AI, political unrest—we need to stop fighting phantoms and start fighting for each other.
The future isn’t written yet. And while it’s easy to feel powerless in the face of it all, I keep reminding myself that witches—real witches, metaphorical witches, all the misfits and outcasts—are resilient. We’ve survived the flames before.
Maybe the future doesn’t belong to the ones who hunt. Maybe it belongs to the ones who refuse to burn.
