A regime is not upheld by abstractions, but by men—by their capacities, their instincts, and their loyalties. Every political order is biopolitical. It rests on who is born, who holds power, and who is cast out.
Hierarchy is the principle by which men are arranged according to their natural differences. Order is the cohesion and stability that arise when those differences are rightly understood and affirmed. Both emerge from the unequal distribution of traits among men: differences in character, in foresight, and in the will to lead or the willingness to follow.
Institutions do not endure through ideals alone. They endure through the strength, discipline, and continuity of a people—through the cooperation of the living and the faithful transmission of order across generations. Each man fulfills the station assigned to him. As the Roman poet Horace observed, “Content with his own place, he does not strive to rise above his rank.” This is the foundation of every stable order.
When these biological foundations are subverted—when the weak and unfit are gathered into a collective and their infirmity is transmuted into political force—politics does not vanish. It degenerates. It no longer serves truth, justice, or excellence, but becomes a mechanism of control. The regime still demands obedience, but not from men of worth. It secures it through dependence, and sustains it by elevating the weak over the strong, the base over the noble.
This is the logic of Bioleninism.
Coined by the writer “Spandrell,” Bioleninism describes a strategy of rule that emerges in times of civilizational decline. Unable to sustain themselves through the loyalty of the competent and independent, regimes in decay assemble a new ruling coalition from the biologically—and therefore, often socially—unfit. These are not men who ascend through merit, but men whose status, and in many cases their very existence, depends entirely on the system. Their loyalty is secured through dependency. Their resentment is weaponized against those more capable.
This is not a new phenomenon. Lenin perfected it in revolutionary Russia. He recruited from the embittered margins—what Dr. Edward Dutton calls the “spiteful mutants”: ethnic outsiders, failed intellectuals, radical ideologues, and social deviants. These were not men with a stake in the old order, nor any place in a just or natural hierarchy. But for a regime built upon destruction, they were the perfect instruments. Their failure bound them in loyalty. Their hatred made them merciless.
Bioleninism adapts this same logic to the postmodern West. It extends beyond socioeconomic class to encompass the full spectrum of biological dysfunction. Its favored instruments are the neurotic, the perverse, the embittered, and the malformed. The more broken the individual, the more easily he is controlled. The less capable he is of surviving on merit, the more tightly he clings to the regime that elevates him. In this perverse selection process, the ugliness of ineptitude and failure becomes power. Dependence is transfigured into virtue.
This is not a regime designed to elevate the noble or reward the capable. It exists to entrench itself through the destruction of those who might transcend it. What it cannot corrupt, it casts out. What it cannot cast out, it slanders or crushes. Its war on merit is not accidental but essential, for excellence threatens its command. Competence defies control. Beauty reveals the sublime indifference of nature, where nothing is owed and everything must be earned. Normalcy resists authoritarian domination, for it thrives on proportion and restraint. And so inversion becomes the law. The strong are treated as a threat, the virtuous as a danger, the noble as criminal. In their place rise the bitter, the weak, and the grotesque—men who could never have built a civilization, but who will burn one down to preserve their power.
The result is a system that no longer aspires to greatness, but to obedience. Its rulers do not seek honor, but control. They govern not through excellence, but through fear, distortion, and manufactured dependency. Their stability rests on the loyalty of those who would hold no place in any just or well-ordered world.
Bioleninism is not a temporary error, but the death knell of a collapsing system. It does not merely manage decline, as the familiar idiom suggests, but voraciously feeds upon it. And unless it is utterly annihilated—without hesitation and without mercy—all that is noble will be shattered and all that is beautiful will lie in ruin.
Victory does not demand cruelty, but it does demand resolve, the kind that does not turn away from necessity. It calls for fidelity to nature, the courage to name things as they are, and the unbending will to build again. Like all parasitic systems, Bioleninism is brittle. Its strength lies not in might, but in submission. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn warned, “Let the lie come into the world, let it even triumph. But not through me.” If enough men refuse to live by lies, the mask cracks, the spell breaks, and the whole decrepit order begins to fall.
American Buddhist Net 