Face-Erasing 101
Face-Erasing 101
It doesn’t happen all at once. It happens like a promotion. New badge. Soul on clearance.
They start with something simple: they stop looking each other in the face. Because a face is an inconvenience. A face is wasted time. A face comes with wrinkles, smells, shakes, crooked teeth, a whole history that won’t fit into three words. Too much upkeep.
All images are copyright 2026 by Andrea Bigiarini - Alla rights reserved
So they invent easier substitutes. Labels. Roles. Tribes.
“That’s one of those.”
“She’s that kind.”
And suddenly nobody has to ask how anyone’s doing. They just need to know what you think. Which side you’re on. What you “are.”
A face turns into an accessory, like a phone case. Swappable. Customizable. Perfect for stories.
Then comes the classy part: philosophies. Ideologies. Lifestyle packages with an instruction manual and a warranty. They slip a complete system into their pocket—what to love, what to hate, who to save, who to toss. Morality in capsules. Spirituality in ten minutes a day, right before cardio.
And when someone’s hurting, no problem: there’s a ready-made line.
When someone dies, even better: there’s a statistic.
When someone asks for help, there’s a policy.
They don’t hate. Hate is too human, too messy. They optimize. They rationalize. “It’s not personal.” The most comfortable sentence on earth, because it turns everything into a procedure: the humiliation, the abandonment, the pain. It’s all just a “process.”
And it works great: a person with a face can make them feel guilty. A person reduced to a category can’t. A category doesn’t cry. A category doesn’t look back. A category doesn’t ask them to be decent when it isn’t convenient.
So they learn the new kindness: the kind that costs nothing. Hearts, shares, perfectly measured outrage. Empathy as a consumable, like a monthly subscription. They cancel the minute it gets heavy.
Dehumanization isn’t a monster with teeth. It’s an office with air conditioning. It’s a chat full of flawless phrases. It’s a morality that never touches real flesh.
In the end, what’s left are profiles. Opinions. Identities polished like shoes.
And faces? Faces are a problem. Faces remind them that underneath ideas there’s skin.
And skin—how annoying—breaks. Bleeds. Needs. Isn’t “consistent.”
They prefer something cleaner.
Something with nothing human in it.