Remember when Darwin had that whole “survival of the fittest” idea? Cute theory. But if he spent five minutes out and about in modern society, he’d rewrite it to “survival of whoever can fake competence the longest.”

Exhibit A: my husband, who decided the laws of logic don’t apply to him. I won’t name the crime, but let’s just say it was one of those boneheaded “what were you thinking?” moments that makes you wonder if marriage vows should include, “in good times, bad times, and times I wonder how you’ve survived this long.”

Exhibit B: society. Grocery store offenders who treat the aisles like a Hunger Games audition with shopping carts. Drivers who can’t merge and turn every four-way stop into a live-action case study in stupidity. The self-appointed VIPs who think “line starts here” applies to everyone but them. And of course, the aisle-blockers, parked like they’re hosting a block party in produce. Public spaces aren’t survival tests anymore; they’re endurance marathons in not losing your mind.

The worst part? Stupidity doesn’t hide; it broadcasts its presence. It’s loud, confident, and convinced it’s right. And when you dare to point it out, people don’t thank you; they treat you like you just violated the sacred rule of pretending not to notice. We’ve normalized complacency to the point where calling out bad behavior is treated as worse than the behavior itself.

Apparently, the cardinal sin isn’t cutting in line, blocking traffic, or acting like the universe revolves around you; it’s disturbing the blissful bubble of denial everyone else is floating in. We’ve all agreed, it seems, that it’s easier to swallow rudeness whole than choke on the awkwardness of calling it out. A grown adult can dump their shopping cart in the middle of the aisle like it’s a reserved parking space, and the crowd’s response is silence. Why? Because everyone’s too busy clutching their pearls at the audacity of anyone who might actually say something.

It’s pathetic. We’ve turned courtesy into cowardice. Instead of demanding basic decency, we stand there like hostages, politely pretending absurdity is everyday life. The real problem isn’t just the idiots; it’s the audience applauding by doing nothing.

And that’s the sickness: we’ve been conditioned to accept the absurd and be distracted by the noise, fights that make headlines but don’t fix anything that touches our daily lives. The more outrageous the behavior, the quieter the response.

And while society is busy following the herd, screaming about issues that may not touch our daily lives, the things that do hit us directly slide by with barely a murmur. Not that immigration doesn’t matter, but Congress shutting down means hundreds of thousands of employees and contractors are suddenly left without work, and in many cases without pay. I feel for the tamale and paleta vendors who were hustling on street corners and are now being detained. Still, my sympathy burns hottest for my neighbors trying to figure out how to keep the lights on and food on the table while the government plays chicken with their livelihoods. That’s not abstract policy, that’s survival.

Congress can grind the country to a halt, tank deadlines, and play Monopoly with taxpayers’ lives, and instead of demanding consequences, we shrug like it’s just another Tuesday.

Imagine pulling that stunt at your own job: “Sorry, boss, I didn’t finish the project, so the company’s shutting down until further notice. Oh, and by the way, I’ll still be collecting my paycheck, and I might dabble in a little insider trading while I’m at it.” You’d be escorted out by security before you finished the sentence. But Congress? They call it “politics as usual.”

The hypocrisy is staggering. Workers get punished, furloughed, or fired. Families scrape by without pay. And the very people responsible keep their salaries, perks, and power untouchable, unbothered, and richer by the day. If that’s not stupidity strutting in sequins, I don’t know what is.

And we let it happen. We let them play dress-up with democracy while we distract ourselves with “what’s happening over there,” all the while pretending not to notice what’s right in front of us. Because somehow, pointing out the obvious feels more disruptive than watching the country get looted in broad daylight.

So cheers to survival, not because we’re smart, but because stupidity is apparently immortal.