System of a Down: Unraveling the Frameworks That Own Us
On the first day of my Introductory Communication classes, I wouldn’t stand at the front of the room. I’d wait. Let the clock tick well past start time. Let students shift, glance around, grow restless. Then I’d begin teaching from a seat in the back of the classroom.
Why? Because that simple shift, teacher at the back instead of the front, was enough to stir discomfort. Disorientation. A powerful, teachable moment on how tightly we’re bound by the invisible logic of our systems.
Most of what we call “normal” in our interactions is deeply conditioned. We’re trained by our systems - education, media, culture, family - to know our place, play our part, follow the script. That conditioning isn't random. It exists to shape how we perceive, assign power, define identity, and most of all preserve the system itself. (Yes, me too. You too.)
So when we’re suddenly outside that script, when someone doesn’t follow the expected norms, or when a space behaves differently than we’re used to, it triggers anxiety. Not because anything’s truly wrong, but because we’ve been coached to believe something is.
That’s cognitive dissonance.
That’s the signal.
It’s not proof something’s broken.
It’s proof we’ve been trained. Here’s a tune for ya: Dance Monkey by Tones & I
And once a system becomes our “reality,” challenging it feels like betrayal. People who question it get dismissed, attacked, or worse. Because dismantling what we’ve internalized isn’t just uncomfortable, it threatens the identity we’ve wrapped around it.
Systems are a collective ego.
We tend to think of ego as something bad. But that’s a misunderstanding, one we’ve turned into self-help clichés. A healthy ego isn’t the enemy. It gives us definition. It helps us function, form relationships, and act with integrity in the world.
But when ego becomes rigid – when we think we are our roles, our titles, our possessions, our pain, our privilege – we stop connecting. We become reactive. Defensive. Entitled. Empathy shrinks. Compassion fades. We construct enemies of what is different from us.
It’s the same with systems. They’re meant to serve humanity, but we forget we created them. And when we forget that, they begin to own us. Our choices are limited. Our thinking is circular. Our ideas, opinions, and preferences are the truth and light because they echo the system. Here’s a tune for ya: Toxicity by System Of A Down
Government. Justice. Economy. Healthcare. Education. Religion. Family.
Each one was built as a tool to organize, connect, and care for us. Each one becomes dangerous when we treat it as absolute truth rather than a framework we’re responsible for.
There are even subtler systems – ones that shape how we think, feel, regulate our bodies, and show up in the world. When those systems are unexamined, we stop asking questions like:
Is this system working? For me, for my neighbor, for all?
Does it increase our collective vitality?
Or is it serving a few, while gaslighting and consuming the rest?
One sign a system is failing:
It works for you and convinces you that someone else’s suffering is their own fault.
“If only they would…”
“If only they had…”
But maybe it’s not them.
Maybe it’s the system.
And maybe it’s time we remembered: We are not here to serve systems.
Systems are here to serve us.