Recent mass shootings and knife attacks in the street are not just random acts of violence. They point to a deeper social phenomenon, something like the repeated appearance of the “Joker” figure in real life. Not the fictional character, but what he represents: a person who feels abandoned, humiliated, and cut off from any source of meaning.

Why is this happening?

Many people are exhausted by double standards. They hear powerful nations and institutions speak about freedom, justice, and human rights, while watching those same values violated in practice. The U.S.-led Western order claims moral leadership, yet often refuses to admit its own lies, failed wars, and political manipulation. When words and reality drift too far apart, trust collapses.

No one is perfect. No system, no country, no human being. But imperfection is not the real problem. Dishonesty is. When leaders refuse to admit wrongdoing, when institutions protect themselves instead of the truth, people feel cheated. And once trust is broken, meaning begins to dissolve.

For some, this loss of meaning becomes unbearable. Life starts to feel like a scam. People implode inward, falling into depression and isolation, or explode outward in acts of violence. This never excuses harm to others, but it helps explain the emotional and moral collapse behind it.

In Buddhist terms, these people never get the chance to “see the Buddha.” They never encounter clarity, compassion, or a path that makes sense of suffering. Instead, they remain trapped in anger, resentment, and confusion.

This pattern is not limited to politics. It also appears in religion and ideology. People join organizations believing they have found truth, family, and purpose. Later, they discover corruption, control, or hypocrisy. At that moment, they face a painful choice: stay and deny what they see, or leave and rebuild their life from nothing.

I experienced this as a former member of Jehovah’s Witnesses. We called one another brothers and sisters, and on the surface it looked like love. Over time, I witnessed deep corruption and control beneath that surface. Leaving was painful, but staying would have meant betraying my own conscience.

Still, I do not claim moral superiority. Under God, or simply under reality, we are all human. We are limited, flawed, and capable of harm. The problem is not that people fail. The problem is that systems refuse to admit failure.

So what is the solution?

Love and forgiveness are often dismissed as weak or naive, but without them, society has no way to heal. Love does not mean excusing lies or violence. Forgiveness does not mean forgetting wrongdoing. Real love begins with truth. Real forgiveness begins after responsibility is taken.

A meaningful solution requires several things.

First, honesty from those in power. Admitting mistakes is not humiliation. It is the foundation of trust. Without truth, no policy, ideology, or religion can survive.

Second, compassion for those who feel lost. Not every broken person becomes violent, but every violent act comes from a place of deep inner collapse. A society that only punishes without understanding creates more Jokers, not fewer.

Third, personal responsibility. Each individual must decide whether to live in denial or face uncomfortable truths. Leaving a lie, whether political, religious, or personal, is painful. But it is often the first step toward real freedom.

Finally, meaning must be rebuilt at the human level. Not through slogans, propaganda, or moral superiority, but through honest relationships, humility, and shared responsibility for the world we create together.

Everyone can have their own opinion about this social crisis. But opinions without solutions are just noise. If we want fewer explosions of despair, we must offer something stronger than lies and double standards. We must offer truth, compassion, and the courage to admit we are not perfect.

Only then can people begin to see a path again. Only then does the Joker disappear—not because he was defeated, but because he was never needed in the first place.