The Miracle Drug

In the summer of 2099, researchers developed a new groundbreaking drug. When ingested this new medication impaired one’s ability to judge others.

The medication affected the prefrontal cortex and had no side effects. Nobody really knew how it worked—even scientists didn’t fully understand it. But it worked.

They named it “Iudicio Vacuus.” Once you ingested the little pink pill, you lost the urge to qualify anything as good or bad, right or wrong, positive or negative.

Even a user’s ability to judge life events as good or bad was temporarily suspended. No longer was there such a thing as good fortune or bad fortune. No longer was life unfair. There was no “fair.” Things just were. Life just happened.

At first people were afraid to take it. They were afraid this drug would numb them. Politicians, media outlets and preachers warned against it. But as it turned out, refraining from judgement gave users a certain “high.” And remaining non-biased was severely addictive.

And then everything changed.

The media outlets were the first to be affected. Namely, because journalists were clearly addicted to the substance. And thus, they stopped offering opinions and just reported stories.

Soon, journalists lost interest in maintaining careers with media organizations and began resigning, opting for more meaningful work such as, for example, shoveling excrement.

Finally, all news organizations went belly up. Namely, because nobody was viewership tanked. The public didn’t seem to need to be told what to think anymore. Media outlets simply couldn’t sustain public interest unless they could compel people to choose sides.

The next changes to occur took place on the war front.

It all began when a soldier who was addicted to the drug had the unexplained desire to meet his enemy. He removed his anti-ballistic gear and walked right into the battle zone, waving a white flag.

His fellow soldiers tried to stop him. “You’ll be shot!” they all shouted.

But when the soldier reached the decimated town square, there was no gunfire. There were only thousands of other drug addicts with white flags.

Soon, all soldiers quit fighting and began eating and drinking together. Laughing and joking. Some started playing soccer. It wasn’t long before entire armies started consuming the drug. It just made them feel good.

Well, world governments pretty much fell apart. Politicians lost all traction with their subjects. After all, it’s impossible to maintain power when soldiers are busy kicking soccer balls.

So, governments went back to doing things like building highways, making sure everyone has clean water, and forming national parks.

The US was one of the most impacted countries by the new medication. Everyone in America was hooked on the substance. From Fortune-500 CEOs to gas station cashiers.

The American advertising industry collapsed. You can’t sell stuff to consumers who don’t hate what they already own.

Then, the fashion industry disappeared. There was no fashion anymore. People no longer dressed to fit in and just started dressing like themselves.

Other changes:

The savings and loan industry crumbled. No more credit scores. The banks withered. The stock market naturally evened out; the economy got strong.

Ivy League schools, who once rejected 95 percent of applicants, no longer had applicants. The exclusionary schools collapsed.

There was an art boom. People who had always wanted to pursue art no longer judged this choice as unwise.

Worldwide racism ended, of course. But so did Cancel Culture, which had grown into a witch hunt. No longer was it fashionable to mislabel cherished historical figures as racists merely for the pleasure of doing so. Figures like Harper Lee, Martin Luther King Jr., Mark Twain, Frederick Douglas, Gandhi, Walt Disney, Billy Graham, Fred Rogers, were no longer called haters.

Perhaps the weirdest thing to happen was that churches changed their names. Congregations ceremonially removed the denominational titles from all signage.

Thus, there were no more Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, Episcopals, Anglicans, Assembly of Gods, Lutherans, Churches of Christ, Churches of God. No more Protestants and Catholics.

Jehovah’s Witnesses quit knocking on doors. Mormons were no longer ridiculed for wearing special underwear and abstaining from Mountain Dew.

People quit talking about heaven and hell. Not because they quit believing in these things, but because they quit trying to decide who should go where.

Subsequently, American evangelicals quit boycotting stuff like Target, Tide detergent, Cracker Barrel, M&Ms, the Olympic games, or whatever-the-hell else they were boycotting.

Surprisingly, churches did not disappear. Instead, they were busting at the seams on Sunday mornings. Religion and spirituality had actually grown into something more authentic than ever before.

The world wasn’t a utopia, of course. Crime still existed—but not much. There was also the ever-present gap between rich and poor—but it was narrowing quickly. There was still world hunger, but in the next few years it would cease.

The drug was on the market for 191 days before world leaders joined forces to ban it.

“This is a destructive narcotic,” one leader exclaimed. “It interferes with the perfectly natural human urge to hate. We must hate or we cannot love.”

“This drug is ruining our country,” said another politician. “You can’t have good guys unless you have bad guys.”

And so it was, the world went back to the way it’s always been.

But it was nice while it lasted.

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