In Praise of Fickleness
“Fickleness” is not a moral failure; it’s fair to oscillate between incompatible demands.
People use “fickle” to call someone unreliable. In reality, it turns a systemic problem into a personal flaw.
Bosses use it on the worker who slows after months of sprinting.
Movements use it on the organizer who steps back to recover.
Partners use it on the person who sets a boundary.
The word shifts blame from the setup to the person inside it.
The setup is simple: If you prove yourself—pain, output, loyalty—you become easy to see, and easy to control. Managers can track you, rate you, and punish you. If you hold back—stay private, pause, refuse—you protect yourself, but you risk being ignored or pushed out.
Neither move keeps you safe. Switching between them is not immature, it’s just how people survive.
You can see it anywhere:
A worker alternates between a strong month and a pacing month. The review says “erratic.” The label hides the real issue: overload and a metric that rewards burnout (see how “neutral” dashboards get weaponized in Against Technocracy).
At a benefits interview, unstable hours produce messy pay stubs; the file gets flagged “unreliable.” The system creates the volatility, then punishes the proof. In a campaign room, someone returns after stepping back to sleep and pay rent; absence is “disloyal,” return is “opportunistic.”
What should be read as a map of unsustainable conditions gets recast as a bad personality.
Colonial regimes called subject peoples “fickle” to claim they were unfit for self-rule.
During the Cold War, changing your public stance was “treason.”
Psychiatry labeled switching “instability.” Management manuals renamed it “low reliability.”
New words, same move: power produces instability and pins it on the people under it.
Depathologizing Mania
Mania, characterized by heightened energy, impulsivity, and intense mood swings, has long been medicalized and pathologized within psychiatric frameworks. Traditionally framed as a dangerous state requiring strict control through medication, hospitalization, and legal interventions, mania has been viewed as a threat to societal norms.
Why is “consistency” praised? Because it makes control easy.
Steady inputs fit spreadsheets.
Steady identities are easy to file and police.
Steady shows of loyalty are easy to sort.
Consistency is not truer; it’s just simpler to process.
Much of this pressure travels through a neutral-sounding grammar—quiet “must / should / have to” that moves people without naming who’s issuing the order (How ‘Must’ Became Law).
Calling people fickle also breaks solidarity. It sets provers against refusers—people who buy a little safety with visibility against people who buy a little safety with opacity.
Often they are the same person at different times.
Shame replaces analysis. Rooms turn on themselves. What looks like betrayal is usually a clear read of risk: switch disclosure on or off, comply or refuse, based on what the moment demands.
And when shame crowds out repair, everyone loses (I Ruin Everything!).
The same script runs at scale. When power wants one outcome, it shuts down alternatives and shames adaptation. That is how institutions manufacture inevitability—spending time and money to make one path look like the only path.
“Fickle” is the micro-scale version of that move: to discredit switching so that institutional or interpersonal demands for steadiness pass as virtue, not control.
Don’t try to “fix” fickleness. Read it.
Each switch is a data point: here the cost of visibility got too high; there silence cost more than it saved.
If you condemn the switch, you erase the signal. If you treat it as evidence, you see where the design needs to change.
Practical moves:
Cut proof-hunger. Don’t demand constant receipts to believe people. (Against Technocracy)
Legitimize privacy. Not everything must be made legible to count. (How ‘Must’ Became Law)
Read variability before you punish it. Ask what pressure produced it; fix that pressure, not the person.
Don’t moralize pacing. Treat energy changes as signal, not confession.
Flag inevitability scripts. If one stance is framed as the only “responsible” one, ask who benefits. (Manufacturing Inevitability)
None of this excuses harm. It changes where we look for cause. If “inconsistent” becomes the automatic verdict, the structure that forces the swing never has to change.
“Fickleness” is not a moral failure. It’s a normal response to incompatible demands.
Praise it in this way:
remove shame from adaptation to sharpen analysis.
Put attention back on the authors of the bind, not the bodies forced to swing inside it.
Keep the instrument intact—the moving record of how institutions make stability impossible while still demanding it.