This is Raskolnikovism. It’s not a political or religious ideology. It crosses left and right, corporate and grassroots, churches and mosques. It’s across the board, and it’s the belief that what we’re doing isn’t wrong, because we’re doing it for the right reasons.
Raskolnikov’s great mistake was not just that he killed (of course, that was his biggest mistake) but that he overrode his conscience after having killed. He silenced the still, small voice in favour of his theory of moral obligation and superiority. He ignored what he knew to be wrong and wicked, going against the wisdom and reason of a traditional society. It is this that we see today, a silencing of the still, small voice within, our conscience or moral compass. In fact, we have gone even further. Instead of just silencing our conscience, we have outsourced our conscience to society. We have let go of our own, individual moral conscience. We no longer ask: is this right, or wrong? We no longer seek information on the subject matter to attempt to answer those questions on our own. We just look to see what’s trending, or what’s relevant or popular. And we have handed that over to the algorithm that drives our social media app of choice.
The result: social media has become our collective superego, guiding our moral compass and ultimately deciding for us what is right and wrong. It scolds, praises and punishes. Every day, we’re told what to care about, what to condemn and what to ignore. Our morality is no longer derived from personal, deep conviction built on reflection on sacred texts or factual data. Instead, it’s from engagement metrics such as views and comments.
Like Raskolnikov, perhaps not by our own choice though, we have silenced our reasonable, patient and slow-burning inner guide. We no longer ask questions such as : what does this mean for my soul, society or the future? We just ask how this will play out online, and make decisions based on that perceived outcome.
But in such a system, truth becomes entirely relative. Truth loses all virtue, and performance takes its place. And any action, no matter how cruel, can be defended if the right narrative surrounds it. We are no longer guided by conscience; we are guided by crowd sentiment. Evil can be judged righteous, bad can be judged good and wrong can be judged right, simply depending on the digital narrative that hits your feed.
It’s not just social media though. Corporations, universities, celebrities and even sports leagues now position themselves as society’s conscience. Press releases have become sermons, CEOs speak like moral philosophers and brands declare their virtuous intent to the world (often before they deliver on basic human decency in the workplace). But here’s the problem: institutional morality is strategic, not spiritual.
It is crafted in marketing departments and legal teams. It is designed for optics and it quickly changes with consumer sentiment. And, crucially, it rarely risks anything. A tech giant may post about mental health while building addictive platforms. Universities speak of justice while silencing dissent.
These contradictions aren’t just hypocrisies; they’re symptoms of a conscience that no longer lives in people, but in public relations and online platforms. The truth is, we now really do live in an age in which the appearance of morality is more important than its practice, and in such a world, the Raskolnikovs thrive.
The practical examples of this in our society are clear, with cancel culture being a prime example. Cancel culture is in effect a mindset, or communal consciousness, that leads to individuals or brands becoming publicly shamed or boycotted over a single statement or post. It causes outrage to spread rapidly through social media like a virus, often without context or verification, as people piggyback on the collective anger.
The consequences are real and damaging, ranging from verbal and mental abuse to job loss and reputational harm. Comments on gender identity by JK Rowling, for example, sparked widespread calls to boycott her works. The online mob judged her actions harshly, demonstrating how society often outsources moral reasoning to the collective rather than engaging in thoughtful individual reflection.
