I’ve always been fascinated by the future, but not in the crystal-ball, flying-car sense (maybe a bit fascinated by Hoverboards yes, i admit). My obsession is with the hidden currents, the invisible pressures that shape the world around us. We often feel like we’re adrift in a sea of chaos, tossed about by random events. But what if that chaos has a logic? What if the future isn’t a mystery to be solved, but a reaction to be predicted?

That’s the provocative premise of a recent video by Chase Hughes, a former US Navy behavioral science expert, titled “2026 Is Already Decided” [1]. Hughes argues that the major shifts we’ll see in the next two years are not random occurrences but the predictable convulsions of a global system under immense pressure. His core idea, which resonates deeply with my own thinking, is simple yet profound:

Don’t predict events, predict pressure

So, let’s walk through eight predictions, not as a passive audience, but as critical thinkers. Let’s peel back the layers and explore the philosophical bedrock beneath these seemingly disparate forecasts.

Chapter 1: The New Cold War with China

Hughes’ first prediction is that we will see increased conflict with China, but not in the way you might think. Forget the cinematic images of open warfare. This conflict will be a war of pressure, fought through logistics, economics, and cyber disruptions. Think of it as a global boa constrictor, slowly tightening its grip to force compliance.

“Conflict will manifest as economic and logistical ‘pressure’ (e.g., shipping delays, cyber disruptions) to force compliance, rather than open war.”

This is a classic application of systems theory. A system under pressure (in this case, geopolitical rivalry) will seek the path of least resistance to achieve its goals. Open war is costly and unpredictable. A sustained campaign of logistical friction, however, can destabilize an adversary from within, creating the desired outcome without firing a single shot. It’s a war of a thousand paper cuts, designed to exhaust and subdue.

Chapter 2: The Creative Singularity: AI Replaces the Artist

This prediction hits close to home for many of us. Hughes argues that AI will displace a significant percentage of creative professionals—writers, designers, musicians—not because it is more creative, but because it is cheaper, faster, and more compliant. This isn’t about art; it’s about the industrialization of creativity.

This shift represents a profound philosophical crisis. If art is one of the last bastions of human uniqueness, what happens when it becomes a commodified output of a machine? This is a symptom of what the philosopher John Vervaeke calls the “Meaning Crisis” [2]. We are losing the very practices that once connected us to a sense of purpose and wonder. The artist’s struggle, the messy, inefficient, and deeply human process of creation, is being replaced by a frictionless, soulless efficiency. The question is not whether AI can create art, but what the mass production of synthetic creativity does to the human spirit.

Chapter 3: The Epidemic of Suggestibility

Since Covid-19, we’ve entered what many call the loneliness epidemic, driven by social friction and political polarization. But he adds a chilling twist: this growing isolation will make people more “hyper-suggestible.”

“Social ‘friction’ and politicization will increase loneliness, making people more ‘hyper-suggestible.’”

From a philosophical standpoint, loneliness is more than just the absence of company; it is an “ontological dislocation” [3]. It’s a severing of the self from the social fabric that gives us context and meaning. An isolated individual is a system of one, cut off from the feedback loops of community and conversation. In this state of disconnection, we become profoundly vulnerable to any narrative that offers a sense of belonging or certainty, no matter how distorted. Loneliness, in this framework, is not a personal failing but a systemic feature that primes the population for influence.

Chapter 4: The AI Therapist Will See You Now

As loneliness deepens, AI will become the primary interface for mental health. This seems like a logical, even benevolent, solution to a growing crisis. But it raises profound ethical questions.

Who owns the data from these therapeutic sessions? What happens when the line between guidance and influence blurs? An AI therapist, programmed by a corporation or a state, could be the most powerful tool for social control ever invented. It could subtly “guide” individuals toward system-approved thoughts and behaviors, all under the guise of wellness. This is not a conspiracy; it is the logical endpoint of a system that seeks to manage its population’s discontent with maximum efficiency.

Chapter 5: The End of Reality

If you’re one of the few still doomscrolling on Instagram or TikTok, you have surely noticed that we are surrounded by artificial content so convincing that reality itself becomes deniable. When anything can be faked, the very concept of objective truth collapses. In this epistemic chaos, people will retreat to the safety of familiar narratives, tribal identities, and trusted authorities.

This is the ultimate expression of a system adapting to information overload. Instead of trying to discern truth from falsehood, an increasingly impossible task, people will simply choose a reality that feels coherent and safe. This creates a society of self-contained, mutually unintelligible reality bubbles, making any form of collective sense-making impossible. It’s the digital equivalent of Plato’s cave, where we all choose our own shadows to watch on the wall.

Chapter 6: The Great Isolation

Perhaps the most unsettling prediction is that a major event will occur that makes social isolation feel like a reasonable, even voluntary, choice. Whether it’s a health crisis, a security threat, or something else entirely, the outcome will be the same: the normalization of a disconnected existence.

This is a masterclass in systemic adaptation. A system that benefits from a disconnected, suggestible populace will inevitably create the conditions to produce one. By framing isolation as a choice made for safety or convenience, the system co-opts our own survival instincts. We will be led to choose the very conditions that make us more manageable.

Chapter 7: The Unmasking of Oz

As these trends accelerate, psychological operations (psyops) will become increasingly visible. The puppet strings will no longer be hidden. The strategy will shift from direct persuasion to shaping the information environment itself, a form of meta-manipulation.

“As influence campaigns become more obvious, they will shift from direct persuasion to shaping the information environment itself.”

This is a move from controlling the message to controlling the context in which messages are received. It’s a more sophisticated form of power, one that acknowledges people’s awareness of being manipulated but renders them powerless to escape it. When you can’t trust the very air you breathe, you become dependent on the system to provide you with a filtered supply.

Chapter 8: The Return to the Self

Finally, in a twist that offers a glimmer of hope, Hughes predicts that psychedelics will go mainstream. He frames this not as a recreational trend, but as a necessary response to the systemic erosion of identity and meaning. Psychedelics will be adopted as a tool for “repair,” a way for people to “feel human again.”

This is the system’s pressure-release valve. After systematically dismantling the external sources of meaning (community, art, reality itself) the system will offer an internal solution. It’s a fascinating paradox: a technology of the mind being used to counteract the alienating effects of other technologies. This points to a deep, instinctual human need for authentic experience, a need so powerful that it will force its way back into the mainstream, even if it has to be medically sanctioned and commercially packaged.

The Unifying Theory: Solution or Adjustment?

Ultimately, Hughes ties all eight predictions together with a single, powerful question that we should apply to every new development we witness:

“Does this feel like a genuine SOLUTION or a systemic ADJUSTMENT designed to normalize new, often less desirable, conditions?”

This is the critical lens through which we must view the future. Are we solving our problems, or are we simply being adapted to a new, more constrained reality? Are we building a better world, or are we just being made more comfortable in a cage of our own choosing?

The work of thinkers like Niklas Luhmann on social systems theory [4] teaches us that complex systems are not inherently benevolent. They don’t optimize for human flourishing; they optimize for their own survival and stability. The trends Hughes identifies are not a conspiracy orchestrated by a shadowy cabal. They are the emergent properties of a complex adaptive system responding to pressure.

My journey away from the corporate world was driven by a similar realization on a smaller scale, that the systems we build often end up controlling us in ways we don’t even recognize. The challenge, both for us as individuals and for society as a whole, is to become conscious of these systemic forces. It’s about reclaiming our agency, not by fighting the system head-on, but by understanding its logic and learning to navigate it with intention.

The future may already be decided, but our response to it is not. And in that response lies our freedom.

References

• [1] Hughes, Chase. “2026 Is Already Decided — What Will Happen.” YouTube, 16 Jan. 2026

• [2] Vervaeke, John. “Awakening from the Meaning Crisis.” YouTube

• [3] APA Online. “Loneliness and Philosophy: The Ontological Dislocation of Loneliness.” 15 Jul. 2024

• [4] Luhmann, Niklas. Social Systems. Stanford University Press, 1995