Have you ever thought that what occupies your mind and keeps you up at night might mean nothing to someone else?
And that what you see as trivial might be the essence of life to another?
This is not merely a difference in taste or interests. It reflects a deeper reality — a person’s position in existence: their place in consciousness, in experience, in the social hierarchy, and on the map of perception.
On the margins of life, where security is absent and options are few, the circle of concern shrinks. There’s no time for contemplation, no energy for dreams. Bread becomes more important than freedom, a job more vital than creativity, and appearance more valuable than essence.
In these corners, full lives emerge… but they’re confined, repetitive, revolving around details others may deem meaningless.
Some people fight their biggest battles over personal disagreements, a comment on social media, or a dispute over dress codes.
These details, which we might label as “petty,” are often the only tools they have to assert themselves and fill the emptiness.
Isn’t this a form of seeking meaning by any means?
When grand visions are absent, people seek small victories to feel alive.
At the other end of the spectrum, some live in intellectual towers — reading philosophy, discussing the fate of human consciousness, and dreaming of reshaping the world. Yet they sometimes forget that there are those who have never read a book, who dream of nothing more than a quiet day or a secure job.
Here, language diverges, and meaning becomes fractured.
This is where misunderstanding begins.
The elitist looks down on “the people” for obsessing over trivial matters.
The ordinary citizen sees the elite as detached and accuses them of being out of touch.
Thus, difference turns into mutual contempt. Instead of enriching each other, the divide produces alienation — a silent clash today, a resounding one tomorrow.
Social media has widened the gap.
It amplifies superficial issues and elevates nonsense into public debates.
A petty celebrity spat, a meaningless viral video, or a baseless rumor — these dominate screens.
And so the map of importance is distorted: what deserves thought is ignored, and what is empty is inflated.
Is this a collective awareness crisis?
Or are people numbing their minds with frivolity to escape a harsh reality?
Or perhaps, sometimes, it is intentional?
Still, we have no right to judge people simply because they live on the margins. The margins might be imposed — by circumstance, ignorance, poverty, lack of role models, or failing education.
Not everyone preoccupied with small matters is shallow. Some are just people who haven’t been given the chance to see the bigger picture.
But the true danger lies in turning this gap into intellectual isolation — with one side condescending and the other mocking.
Societies do not rise by scorning their edges or enclosing their elites. They grow when bridges are built.
Let us deeply contemplate the gap between the center and the margins — between the elites and the public, between those who hold the tools of action and those who possess only the power of reaction.
What is most surprising — and even saddening — is that the margin has expanded.
It’s no longer limited to the underprivileged or the uneducated.
It has begun to engulf those who once believed they were at the center: the educated, the experienced, the once-prominent cultural or civic leaders.
Many members of the elite — particularly in Egypt — now live not on the margins of knowledge, but on the margins of influence.
They gather, discuss, write articles, hold conferences… but their voices no longer reach decision-making circles or resonate with the masses.
It’s as if they speak inside a sealed hall with soundproof walls — their echo never escapes.
This is a new kind of marginalization: the marginalization of the elite themselves.
Not because they’ve lost their value, but because the surrounding environment no longer listens — or no longer allows for ideas to be effective.
So what does it mean to be an intellectual or an expert if your knowledge has no impact and your voice has no echo?
It seems the state has turned its back on civil society, the public has drifted away from thinkers, and the elite are content talking among themselves — in a closed circle that resembles a funeral.
This is more dangerous than marginalizing the poor.
Because those expected to light the way have themselves stepped outside the path of action.
Marginalizing the elite weakens not just them — it weakens society as a whole.
The absence of a bridge between conscious minds and centers of decision turns wisdom into a mere echo and vision into decoration.
Therefore, the expansion of the margin is not just a personal tragedy for those excluded — it disrupts the very role of the elite in any vibrant society.
The elite are not merely a thinking class. They are a moral and intellectual compass. And when the compass breaks, the ship drifts — even if its sails are full of wind.
The dangerous question is:
Are those who live on the margins the building blocks of the mob?
In today’s world of media chaos and intellectual confusion, the digital crowds we label “marginal” may become a force to reckon with — even if they are far from contributing to genuine civilizational progress.
Since the dawn of civilization, the masses have been a latent force in the historical scene — driven by instinct, shaping destinies, but not necessarily building civilization or producing meaning.
Philosophers and thinkers — from Plato to Albert Camus — have feared the dominance of the mob:
Those who possess numbers but lack insight, enthusiasm but not vision.
They always stand at the edge of intellectual and spiritual action — but storm into the heart of events when their instincts are provoked.
So, who are the mob?
How have they influenced history without contributing to civilization?
Who are today’s mobs — in the age of social media, where all one needs is a smart device and internet access to influence the fate of nations?
The mob, conceptually, is not a specific social class — but a collective mental state of blind following and impulsiveness.
They are driven by emotion, not values; by rumor, not knowledge; by the leader, not the idea.
In history, it was the mob that besieged Socrates and forced him to drink poison.
They raise statues of leaders only to topple them moments later, swayed by rage rather than reason.
They cheer for revolutions, then burn their legacies — as in the French Revolution after its initial glory, or as happened in Egypt after 2011.
The mob doesn’t build civilizations — they are used as tools by those who know how to manipulate them.
The maker of civilization is the one who offers humanity knowledge, values, architecture, or eternal art.
He is the one who lays foundations, discovers laws, or liberates consciousness.
But the mob — they are the fuel of revolutions and the tools of coups.
They ignite events, but they never write the final chapter.
Their tragedy repeats: they rise… then are cast aside. They are used… then forgotten.
In the digital age, the mob hasn’t vanished — only changed form.
Social media has enabled everyone to comment, protest, and participate — but without the requirement of awareness, reading, or understanding.
A rumor can set nations ablaze.
A video taken out of context can destroy a person.
Cancel campaigns erupt based on moments of outrage — not objective scrutiny.
This is how digital mobs are born:
Masses of followers who change people’s fates and steer public opinion — but without critical thinking or historical knowledge.
The danger lies in allowing such crowds to become the reference point for public opinion.
That governments, thinkers, and institutions begin to submit to the fleeting moods of an unqualified yet influential audience — one that used to live on the margins just yesterday.
The mob doesn’t invent lies — but they consume them without question.
They don’t plan chaos — but they move according to its rhythm.
Psychologist Gustave Le Bon highlighted how individuals lose their autonomy within a crowd and become driven by primal instincts.
Let’s be honest:
Yes, there are those who live on the margins and make the trivial their goal — they are the fuel of mob mentality.
But perhaps, if a hand were extended to them, they could move from the edge to the heart of the scene — becoming builders of civilization rather than tools of its destruction.
Crowds can bring change — but they don’t guarantee meaning.
And today’s mobs may be more dangerous than those of the past — because they are invisible, and their behavior cannot be regulated.
