The Industry of Cultural Categorizations: The Commodification of Division and the Digital Mirage
One of the most persistent hallucinations of modern Western culture is the compulsive, almost religious belief that human beings can—and should—be dissected into a series of exceptional, hyper-specialized fragments. This phenomenon is most glaringly visible in the endless, performative choreography surrounding groups framed as marginalized, victimized, or perpetually offended. But beneath the superficial theater of contemporary grievance, a fundamental and deeply uncomfortable question must be asked: Who are these offended peoples, and why has public discourse granted them the status of untouchable spectacles?
To be exceptional is to be singled out—appropriated, elevated, or turned into an exclusive curiosity. Yet, since human beings naturally vary along a vast, continuous spectrum rather than occupying neat, hermetic boxes, how did we arrive at an era where every individual demands a bespoke taxonomy?
To answer this, we must look beyond culture and examine industry, business, and, most concisely, commerce. And to understand that commerce, we must first interrogate its parent concept: categorization.
The Necessity of Categories: From Kant to Daily Life
It is vital to state clearly that categorization itself is not inherently bad; in fact, it is the foundational mechanism by which the human mind makes sense of reality. Philosophers like Immanuel Kant understood that human perception and reason cannot operate without categories—pure concepts of the understanding that structure our chaotic sensory experiences into coherent objects, space, time, and causality. Without mental categories, the world is merely a buzzing, blooming confusion.
In a healthy context, categorization is a tool for navigation. It allows us to group similar phenomena so we can study them, communicate efficiently, and act wisely. In science, medicine, and everyday social life, appropriate classifications protect, clarify, and heal.
However, when categorization is ripped from its pragmatic roots and weaponized, it mutates into a cultural pathology. In academia, we see the extreme end of this intellectual disease: specialists whose worldviews are so hyper-narrowed by jargon that they become completely unintelligible to the rest of the world, walled off inside ivory towers where communication outside the specialty is virtually impossible.
In this essay, I argue that this academic rot has leaked into Western culture at large. Look around you. Watch video essays, read digital journalism, or scroll through social media feeds. Everywhere, people are willingly boxing themselves into tighter and tighter classifications. Name the metric—race, micro-gender, personality type, neurodivergence, or ideological sub-factions—and you will find an entire ecosystem dedicated to policing its boundaries.
We are witnessing a linguistic bamboozlement. As we cordon ourselves off into self-righteous tribes, we become less communicative as a whole and paradoxically more hostile toward one another.
Of course, creating these hyper-narrow classes serves a potent psychological function: it makes the creator feel special, superior, singular, and insulated. You can compile a string of acronyms and niche descriptors—Asian American, non-binary, neurodivergent, INTP—or any other complex matrix of identity tags. But when a culture produces frameworks boasting over a hundred distinct genders and countless sub-cultures, we have crossed the line from descriptive science into conceptual absurdity. This is hyper-categorization run amok, far eclipsing the most insular ivory tower ever built.
The Economic Engine: Why the Market Loves Our Divisions
Why does this obsession persist? Why are we encouraged to subdivide ourselves into smaller and smaller fractions? The answer is as old as capitalism itself: division is immensely profitable.
In the modern attention economy, nuance does not monetize; tribal belonging does. Corporations, media algorithms, and political institutions quickly realized that a fragmented population is infinitely easier to exploit than a unified public. A cohesive society with shared values and universal standards is difficult to manipulate. But a society broken down into millions of hyper-specific micro-demographics? That is a marketer’s absolute dream.
By validating every conceivable micro-identity with specialized merchandise, catered content, and dedicated political pandering, the market turns human self-expression into a transactional commodity. You are no longer viewed simply as a citizen participating in a shared civic project. Instead, you are mapped onto a precise consumer segment requiring tailored validation, bespoke branding, and specialized emotional reinforcement. Your identity has been outsourced to the corporate balance sheet.
Furthermore, hyper-categorization functions as a powerful protective shield within the marketplace of ideas. In an era where moral authority is routinely granted to the perceived underdog, claiming a hyper-specific category of victimhood provides instant cultural currency. It offers absolute immunity from critique, grants immediate moral high ground, and guarantees a built-in audience of ideological loyalists.
This has birthed an entire economy built on the industrial-scale production of grievances. If we were ever to achieve true social cohesion, mutual understanding, and a universal baseline of human respect, the architects of this identity industry would be put out of business. Division is their product, and outrage is their currency.
The Complex Motives of People: The Search for Belonging
Yet, to understand why individuals participate in this frenzy, we must look beyond cynicism and examine the complex, deeply human motives driving it.
For many people, adopting a niche label or a hyper-specific category is not an act of arrogance or a grab for “victim currency.” Often, it is a desperate search for sanctuary. In a vast, hyper-industrialized, and increasingly atomized world, individuals experience profound alienation. When someone has spent years feeling misunderstood, isolated, or pathologized by a rigid society, discovering a precise medical, psychological, or cultural label can feel like an epiphany. It provides a name for an invisible struggle and offers a community of fellow travelers who finally speak the same dialect of pain and survival.
The tragedy, however, is that what begins as a genuine tool for self-understanding quickly gets captured and flattened by the digital ecosystem. The human need for connection is funneled through algorithms that reward rigidity over empathy. The remedy to our cultural fragmentation does not lie in mocking people’s search for meaning, but in recognizing how the structures around us exploit that very search.
The Family Dynamic: Functional Versus Dysfunctional Compartmentalization
This tendency toward hyper-categorization bears a striking resemblance to the difference between a functional and a dysfunctional family.
In a functional family, categorization and differentiation are tools used to foster individual growth within a secure, cohesive whole. Family members have distinct roles, personalities, and boundaries, but these distinctions exist to support open communication, mutual empathy, and flexibility. Differences are acknowledged, but they do not fracture the underlying bond of unconditional belonging.
In a dysfunctional family, however, compartmentalization becomes a rigid survival mechanism. The system maintains its precarious balance by locking everyone into hyper-specific, inescapable boxes. One person is designated as the “offended” or perpetually fragile victim; another becomes the eternal scapegoat; another the caretaker. Nuance is stripped away because the system cannot handle complexity; it can only survive through strict tribal lines, unspoken taboos, and perpetual friction.
When we look at modern Western culture through this lens, our public square begins to resemble a macro-scale dysfunctional household. We have institutionalized the exact same pathological compartmentalization. Instead of seeking integration, emotional maturity, or a shared civic home, our cultural and digital ecosystems herd us into rigid, antagonistic roles where grievance is currency and stepping outside your assigned “box” is treated as an act of betrayal.
The Abstraction of Modern Life: The Disease of the Screen
This brings us to the root infection: abstraction. Whether encountered online through curated digital avatars or projected “live” in the performative arenas of modern public life, abstraction is the true disease of our cultural moment.
Digital spaces encourage us to interact with flattened data points rather than whole, breathing human beings. An individual is reduced to a bio-line, a collection of ideological flags, a personality code, or a grievance score. We no longer converse with our neighbors; we interact with ideological abstractions. This online abstraction strips away the messy, grounding realities of face-to-face community—humor, context, physical presence, and the unavoidable friction of everyday compromise.
When life itself becomes abstracted into a performance for an invisible audience, categorization becomes the primary costume. People retreat into theoretical fortresses of self-definition because the real, physical world feels too unpredictable and demanding.
The Horizon of the Absurd and the Way Forward
Where does this relentless logic lead? Taken to its absolute extreme, the industry of cultural categorization terminates in total isolation: a society of eight billion or more sovereign individuals, each trapped inside a fortified fortress of one, utterly incapable of speaking across the chasm of their own manufactured uniqueness.
If everyone is an exclusive category unto themselves, then categorization ceases to mean anything at all. We are left staring blindly into a fractured mirror, wondering why the national reflection is so deeply shattered.
Perhaps the ultimate antidote to this cultural madness is remarkably simple, even if it requires immense courage: a deliberate return to the messy, unquantifiable reality of shared physical existence. We do not need a corporate brand, an institutional badge, or a new abstract acronym for every single fluctuation of thought, temperament, or lifestyle. We need the clarity to drop the digital badges, step outside the manufactured tribal enclaves, and remember that our universal commonalities—our shared capacity for reason, error, resilience, and wonder—are infinitely deeper, tougher, and more enduring than any box an algorithm or an industry can build for us.
Kenneth Myers
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