More Tagging, More Lagging Md. Kausar Uddin Ahmed
The first thing I noticed was the noise. Not the angry kind, not even the loud kind. It was the hollow kind. The kind that fills the air but leaves nothing behind. Campus walls, phone screens, tea stalls, talk shows – everywhere the same ritual repeated itself. Tag. Tag. Tag. It was as if politics had become a labelling machine, and everyone was paid per sticker pasted.
At some point, words stopped pointing to reality. They floated freely, disconnected from facts, detached from responsibility. They did not care whether they were true or false. Their only job was to create impact. While watching this frenzy, I kept remembering the philosopher Harry Frankfurt and his small but sharp book, “On Bullshit”, where he wrote that the real danger is not lies, but indifference to truth. A liar still knows what the truth is and hides it. A bullshitter does not even bother to look at the truth. That indifference was everywhere. These tags were not meant to explain anything. They were meant to sound heavy and move on.
In this country, we love shortcuts. Even our thinking wants instant results. Why understand when you can tag? Why explain when you can accuse? Why listen when you can shout one loaded word and feel morally superior? Over the last few months, this habit hardened into a political method.
But something unexpected happened. The louder the tags became, the quieter the voters grew. That quiet was not fear. It was attention. Frankfurt later wrote another book, “On Truth”, where he argued that truth matters not because it is perfect, but because it keeps us connected to reality. When truth is treated casually, people begin to observe more carefully. Excessive certainty makes thoughtful people suspicious.
There was a time when a single label could shut doors. Whisper it, and everything froze. But generations change. Today’s young voters grew up witnessing the abuse of labels. They saw how words were used without care for reality and how narratives were built without responsibility. So when the same old tags returned, they did not panic. They examined.
Let me tell you a story about a village fair. Traders came with goods. One sold spices. One sold clay pots. This year, some traders forgot to praise their goods. Instead, they spent the whole day warning people about one particular stall. “Dangerous,” they shouted. “Wrong scale, bad seller.” The louder they became, the more curious people grew. They tasted the spices. They checked the scale. They spoke to the seller. Surprisingly, they decided to make a purchase from him. By evening, the loudest traders were the most confused. They had trusted noise instead of truth. And noise collapses the moment people start checking reality.
Campus politics works the same way. When you reduce your opponent into a single tag, you also reduce yourself. You stop seeing students as thinking humans and start treating them like empty containers waiting to be filled with fear. That is the first mistake. The second mistake is assuming truth no longer matters to them.
In a campus canteen, a group of students were scrolling through their phones. One read a dramatic post full of warnings and labels. Another smiled and said, “If tagging solved problems, our hostel would have pure water.” Everyone laughed. The reality is that when the facts are lacking, humour becomes a form of resistance.
In “On Truth”, Frankfurt argued that without concern for truth, our decisions become reckless. On campus, excessive tagging did not persuade. It disconnected. Students felt talked at, not spoke with. Managed, not respected. When politics treats truth lightly, it also treats people lightly.
While one side was busy naming, another side was busy listening. They were listening to issues such as hostel problems, exam pressure, job fear, and moral exhaustion. One side treated politics as theatre. The other treated it as a responsibility. Responsibility requires sincerity. And sincerity cannot exist without respect for truth.
There is a special arrogance in believing voters are lazy thinkers. It grows in comfort zones built over years of dominance. When winning becomes routine, effort feels unnecessary. You forget how to persuade without exaggeration. You forget how to argue without fear. And most dangerously, you forget that truth is not optional.
When the results came, the shock was loud. Disbelief filled the screens. Analysts searched for complex explanations. But trust me, the reason was very simple. One side had become indifferent to truth. The other stayed close to lived reality.
Instead of reflecting, the taggers tagged harder, louder, and faster. It was like watching someone stuck in mud pressing the accelerator, convinced speed alone would save them. But when truth is ignored, failure becomes invisible. Invisible mistakes repeat themselves. When political language becomes careless, students begin to compare words with lived experience. And lived experience is stubborn. No amount of tagging can erase long power cuts, broken hostels, uncertain futures, or the quiet humiliation of being unheard.
Increased tagging leads to increased lagging. Increased lagging results in further entrenchment of misleading narratives.
The taggers mistook exhaustion for obedience. They mistook silence for surrender. But silence, when shared by many, becomes a decision. Not shouted, not announced, only just acted upon. In that moment, truth does not need slogans. It only needs space.
There is also a moral fatigue in the air. Young voters are tired of borrowed fear. Young voters are weary of loud certainty based on shaky foundations. When truth is treated casually, people begin to search for seriousness elsewhere.
The so-called silent side did something unusual. They behaved normally. They spoke calmly. They trusted students to think. In a political culture addicted to noise, sincerity sounded revolutionary.
Some will dismiss this change as temporary. Some will call it accidental. That dismissal itself reveals the problem. It is easier to insult voters than to examine truth. It is easier to label than to listen.
In the end, tags do not vote. People do. And people, especially young people, still care about reality, even when they laugh at noise. Ignore that, and history will keep teaching the same lesson. This lesson will continue to be imparted quietly, ironically, and with a smile.
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