Faced with the emergence of new forms of authority, our democracies must rethink their relationship to dialogue and respect for otherness so as not to lose their legitimacy.
During a National Assembly committee inquiry into the psychological effects of TikTok on minors, a masculinist influencer (Alex Hitchens) questioned via videoconference categorically refused to hear the committee chair who was asking him, in essence: “What you’re doing is harming children, why do you continue?” The influencer, convinced of the opposite, claimed that his actions were beneficial for children. Faced with the chair’s insistence and after a dialogue of the deaf, the influencer ended up hanging up on the committee (17’50s).
- Chair: For example, I quote you “A woman after 10pm, I don’t know what she’s doing outside”, these are things you said on which platforms?
- Influencer: That’s on YouTube, sir, but I could very well have made these comments on TikTok, of course. Now, it would have been necessary to perhaps keep the original video. The big problem, precisely, with TikTok, I was talking about it at the beginning, and you’re falling into the trap, I think, is misinformation. You’re isolating my statement. So you took 10 seconds from an 8-10 minute statement, where I was explaining precisely, because we’re going to go into detail, because we’re talking about it, so why not, I was explaining that the government was responsible for security, I was explaining that it wasn’t normal that a woman in 2025 couldn’t go out at night, very late, in Paris. And precisely after, I was talking about the fact that in this world, in this world which is hard, what is a woman doing outside after 10pm? And I continued then: it’s preferable to go out with a friend, or with two friends, or with a man. You, you took 10 seconds of my statement, you isolated it, and you just threw it in my face. That’s the problem with TikTok...
- Chair (interrupts): Excuse me, but “You take her phone, she’s a whore, end of relationship”, that’s no less problematic, on TikTok and on YouTube...
- Influencer (interrupts): You’re changing the subject...
- Chair (interrupts): Let me finish, please...
- Influencer (interrupts): You’re changing the subject...
- Chair (interrupts): I’m asking you to let me finish. I’m the one conducting the hearing, I’m the chair of the inquiry committee, I’m asking you to let me finish.
- Influencer (interrupts): You may be chair, but you’re distorting my words...
- Chair (interrupts): Excuse me, we’re going to cut off your sound, please, if you continue. So, I’ll finish my point, please. I was telling you...
- Influencer (interrupts): Goodbye, sir. (he disconnects)
The chair then suspended the session, reminding that only the committee was authorized to close the debates, not the person being heard. The French judicial system could sanction this disrespectful attitude, condemn and imprison (punishable by two years imprisonment and 7,500 euros fine) the influencer under shared laws, for which we regularly vote, with the support of law enforcement if necessary. In theory, the influencer should fear the armed might of the French Republic.
Yet this fear doesn’t exist. Power is changing its nature. In many young people’s journeys, time in prison is no longer perceived as the deprivation of our most precious asset, freedom, but as a foundational experience, creating community and identity, even as the ultimate affirmation of one’s personal sovereignty above the laws. “I’ve been to prison. I got out. I learned. I’m still here.”
In certain neighborhoods, micro-societies impose their own law, and the police apparatus finds itself forced to negotiate with them because their power over these territories exceeds that of the Republic. Moreover, convicted personalities manage to escape justice: Roman Polanski, convicted nearly 40 years ago in the United States, skillfully avoids any extradition.
Today, certain personalities, whistleblowers protected in some countries and prosecuted in others, or members of the masculinist movement declared persona non grata, multiply nationalities and manage their international assets with skill to establish a symbolic sovereignty that transcends national legislative frameworks. Anonymous but influential figures, like the creator of Bitcoin, deliberately choose to exist outside traditional legal frameworks. These people don’t merely defy the law: they establish new norms and exercise real social power thanks to their influence and their millions of followers.
This symbolic power transforms into concrete power that allows them to avoid sanctions. Roman Polanski thus benefits from the protection of an international artistic community that would oppose his incarceration. This example shows that this evolution doesn’t only concern characters with dubious intentions, but also affects figures legitimized by the Western progressive intelligentsia.
The holders of traditional institutions still believe they hold power, but new paradigms are progressively imposing themselves. The influencer knows he is freer than they would have him believe. He refuses to have a worldview imposed on him that he doesn’t share and openly affirms it. Similarly, Julian Assange, imprisoned for years, never renounced his fight for political transparency, which he considers virtuous, while his detractors consider it dangerous for our societies.
These situations reveal fascinating power dynamics. Forgive me for bringing together in my analysis masculinists, rapists, whistleblowers, and Nelson Mandela, but the latter perfectly illustrates my point: 27 years in prison for his political convictions, and the deliberate choice to stay several additional years rather than renounce his ideas. His freedom of thought took precedence over his physical freedom, and this inflexible position was the foundation of the major political change that occurred after his release in South Africa.
It’s crucial to understand that the laws governing human communities are undergoing profound change, and this in a transnational manner. European regulatory methods present a double face: precious on one side, decadent on the other. They affirm the superiority of Enlightenment thinking over any other form of reasoning. The stakes go beyond the legal: they are fundamentally symbolic. The old world, convinced of its superior virtue, still believes it holds power, like the characters in Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard who don’t see that their time is over.
Reality shows, however, that power has already shifted to a new world in gestation. My point is not to capitulate to new despots with values opposite to ours, but to reposition the debate: abandon our claim to supremacy and our certainty of imposing reason by force, to return to respect for others and create authentic spaces for democratic dialogue.
The future of democracy rests on its capacity to integrate what destabilizes it most. Its strength will not come from dogmatic certainties but from its ability to respect words considered dangerous today. These words nevertheless form the foundation of the new laws of the world. To preserve democracy, we can neither despise them, nor make them invisible, nor stifle them. Behind these discourses are human beings who deserve respect and listening.
Rather than demonizing these radical masculinists, let’s dialogue with them to perhaps awaken a sensitivity they have buried. By continually despising them, by presenting them as dangerous when they perceive themselves as saviors, we only reinforce their conviction of being visionaries in the face of our obscurantism, because that’s how they see us. If they are incapable of dialogue, it’s up to us to create these spaces for exchange, to redouble our efforts to reestablish connections rather than stifle these emerging forces. Do we want a fractured world, without dialogue, where antagonistic groups mutually dehumanize each other? I believe we aspire to the opposite.
By digging deeper, we would often discover that these people who seem despicable to us have lives and relationships that would surprise us. Conversely, those who deliver well-meaning speeches sometimes reveal profound personal contradictions. This period demands humility and openness to dialogue without prior judgment. It’s at this price that we can progress and, hopefully, soften everyone’s representations.
Consider the young generations who would watch this TikTok inquiry committee, because contrary to popular belief, parliamentary debates are accessible there. What will they think? They will naturally identify with the masculinist influencer: he is black, speaks their language, assumes his ideas with what they perceive as courage. Facing him, an institution they consider obsolete, embodied by white people, sure of their righteousness, trying to stifle his speech in what may appear as a form of neocolonialism. I’m not claiming that’s the case, and I’m not questioning the good intentions of this committee. I’m simply describing the symbolic perception these young viewers will have.
And he himself, the day after the committee, posted a video where he makes this speech:
Every day, the State crushes you. Every day, you get on your knees before it. And for once when a person has the audacity to tell a “committee chair” that he prefers to leave rather than hear nonsense, you try to judge him. You should rather applaud people who stand up against this government. But you, no. You are idiots. Because when you hate a person or when you don’t agree with their words, you lose reason. And you encourage anything and everything, like censorship. That’s your problem. It’s that you’re not smart. You’re not smart.
This is why institutions must demonstrate democratic probity, open-mindedness, and absolute respect for others, particularly regarding cultural rights. This is how we will refound democracy in this new space, with these emerging new laws and these unprecedented relational paradigms that we must build.
If we close our eyes to these transformations, we abdicate. We delude ourselves with the illusion of our strength while ceding ground, which would be dramatic. The political reflection of these new influencers is often superficial, and I’m convinced they would favorably welcome the intellectual enrichment of institutions that respect and listen to them. Listening doesn’t mean validating, a frequent confusion. We can perfectly listen to someone then explain and argue our profound disagreements. That’s the heart of democracy, not in censoring divergent thoughts.
Alas, even well-intentioned people can drift toward this censorship. The Covid period illustrated this: any voice discordant with the official discourse was stigmatized as anti-democratic, when it was precisely the censorship of debate that was so. On a matter of capital importance, fueled by fear, we experienced a serious political moment under the pretext of public health. The reality of the dangerous epidemic was undeniable, but its public management was carried out in an undemocratic manner.
This period has moreover strengthened far-right protest movements. Citizens who observed the absence of democratic debate and felt an infringement on their personal freedoms rallied, for two years, to movements dangerous in many respects. Let us build the opposite, by respecting others, by cultivating dialogue for two. And if, truly, our project is democracy, then let us exercise it, cultivate it, in our relational modalities with our opponents.
The day after the commission, the influencer posted several videos, including two quotes, which in less than a day were shared and viewed millions of times. Their political impact is therefore very strong. I think we need to think seriously about what’s at stake in political terms, and work to put out the fires by listening, rather than adding fuel to the fire by believing in its superiority, because it’s no longer there.
Here, he takes up exactly Nelson Mandela’s argument:
These people think they’re above me. Because they’re the ones who make the laws. That’s all. But in my eyes, it’s human to human. Now, if you want to lock me up, if you’ve made laws to be able to lock me up, well, lock me up. But you won’t have my submission. You won’t have my submission. I’ve never stolen, I’ve never killed, I’ve never done those kinds of things. If you want to lock me up, lock me up. But you won’t have my submission.
And here, the affirmation of a political will, presented as a democratic necessity:
I can’t stop anymore, they’ve launched me. Don’t you understand that a war has just been launched? We were talking about it a week ago guys for those who were there: I was planning to stop, everyone is witness to that. I was planning to stop. But I can’t stop anymore.
Guys, if I stop now, what will they say? They’ll say they won. They’ll say that the guy who’s at the top, who’s at the very top, stopped, they’ll say they managed to beat his ideology. Now, I have a responsibility toward all the people who think like me, and toward all the guys who make videos like me. I have everyone’s responsibility on my shoulders. If I stop, it’s over. It’s over.
It means that now, actually, I’m going to tell you something but I really mean it: it doesn’t even concern just me anymore. I have the responsibility of so many people. I must continue to fight. I have no choice. Even though stopping making videos is something I had already thought about for a long time. But it would be like an admission of weakness toward them. It would sound in any case like an admission of weakness, the fact that I’m giving up. I can’t stop anymore. They’ve launched me.
In the following days, he bounces back again on the situation:
Just remember one thing, which is that the society you are in now in France was built by people who rose up against the government. If you know a bit of your history, you’ll know this date. People felt that the State was abusing its power and rose up against it.
It is extremely important for a young person to understand that the State is not necessarily always right. I saw the video of people saying, and I think these are very serious words, who were saying, no, he shouldn’t have done that, it’s the State, you shut up and you take it. You shut up and you take it.
If we had endured this way of thinking, we wouldn’t be in the French Republic. It’s important to point this out. So a young person watching me right now, the action I took is very meaningful to them and they know it very well over there.Don’t worry, I’ve heard the feedback. They know very well that here, I’ve proven to everyone that yes, we could stand up to the government and that we shouldn’t be afraid of it. The proof is, they want me to serve as a lesson.
But I’m not going to give in, precisely for all these young people watching me. It’s important for them to know that yes, when you’re in accordance with your ideas or even when you’re disrespected, no matter who’s in front of you, don’t be afraid to make the right decision. It’s super important.
Or again, positioning himself as an educator:
I didn’t need money to face this commission, I didn’t need money to keep my honor and leave that call when I understood it was simply a trap and that the goal was simply to humiliate me. I took risks by doing this. This isn’t a question of money, it’s a question of honor, it’s a question of mindset.
You can’t buy this kind of mentality. It can’t be bought. It’s not something you can quantify. It’s deep within you, the convictions you have. Are you a smooth talker or do you stand by your words? Indeed, yes, I’m a loudmouth, but there’s one thing you can’t criticize me for, it’s that I’ve always stood by my words. Always.
And it’s super important when, as a man, if you’re watching me, you stand by your words and you have a guiding principle. You must know precisely what kind of man you want to become. It must be precise.It’s not “I want to succeed”. I want to succeed means nothing. You want to succeed at what level? You want to be who, what? You just want to be a guy with money, that’s all, but a guy who’s not inspiring? You want to have money but a big belly like that? You want to be who, what, where? These are the questions you need to ask yourself. If you’re watching me right now, and you’re 15, 16, 17 years old, ask yourself the question. What kind of man do you want to become in the coming years?
The commission of inquiry delivered its conclusions on September 4, 2025, which I have attached, and on this specific subject, on page 20 of Volume 1 of the report, it is written:
The disconnection, during the hearing, of Alex Hitchens, gave rise to numerous comments and even humorous diversions. Beyond the legal proceedings that should be initiated regarding the actions of the one who evaded this hearing, let us note that Alex Hitchens, who had boldly launched a training program to teach rhetoric against members of parliament, has since stopped offering such training. Yet, he had declared that it was his main source of income. Impunity must end.
It is truly unfortunate that public authority so greatly lacks probity and a will for objectivity, as this runs counter to a form of regulation based on listening and respect, rather than on preconceived notions validated by bad faith and power. Yet such listening is so necessary for the proper support of young people and for democracy!
Media and Information Education (MIE) is a dynamic that enjoys consensus regarding its necessity in the contemporary world, in the same way as the critical education to language proposed by the structuralists of the 1960s, with Roland Barthes at the forefront, who had propelled discourse analysis outside the artistic field, extending it to the analysis of advertising images, for example. It seems essential to raise awareness about how media and information shape our opinions and our worldviews, which, on one hand, creates cohesion, but which, very often, comes at the cost of mass manipulation—a manipulation that, as surprising as it may seem, is characteristic of major contemporary democracies (cf. David Colon).
Democracies rely on common rules as well as on citizens’ capacity to think for themselves, freely, in order to be able to gradually evolve these rules so that they never become imprisoning dogmas. Thus, Media and Information Education is, in my view, an approach to building critical thinking, that is, the ability to think for oneself, which is diametrically opposed to “thinking as one should.”
Media and Information Education must therefore embrace the critique of all media, including those that are most legitimized by the powers in place, and whose role we generally discover afterwards was sometimes much more about disinforming than informing. Thinking for oneself is one of the greatest social risks there is, because it means taking the risk of being rejected, excluded. The great paradox lies in this polarity: on one side, groupthink, riddled with institutionalized lies; on the other, relativistic thinking that questions everything and generates what we call conspiracy theorism.
How can we avoid losing our reason and put ourselves in a position to always cultivate our curiosity, our creativity, our open-mindedness, and our capacity for questioning? This is, in my view, the challenge of Media and Information Education. I share here methods, reflections, and proposals based on my numerous experiences in this field.