Normally, I wouldn’t pay too much attention to yet another loudmouth on the right, but this time I’m going to delve into it properly, drawing on my expertise to analyse what this woman is up to. I’m not specifically concerned with Mona Keijzer herself; as far as I’m concerned, she’s simply the focal point and, as such, an example for many others.

Mona Keijzer is a master at simplifying complex narratives. Among other things, she wants less bureaucracy and regulations, to build more homes and to restrict immigration, as she told the press, who had turned out in droves. In doing so, she summarises the Netherlands’ problems in a few soundbites that sound rather simple. What’s more, she captures the mood of the Dutch population exceptionally well. 

But she’s doing something we criticise others for. Namely, simplifying a complexity we cannot fully grasp and saying: ‘Yes, I can see things are going wrong too. But I have the solution.’ And we love a simple, concrete narrative. If we can easily point out what’s right and what’s wrong, we know which side to take. It’s like in modern versions of fairy tales: the more one-dimensional, the better. We often find multiple perspectives rather difficult, partly because they force us to think for ourselves and form our own judgement. What’s more, it’s particularly unnerving when that judgement differs from what we previously thought. That this newcomer might not be such a creep after all, but simply a committed person who wants to contribute by working and paying tax (yes, really, I know people like that!).

When a ‘manosphere’ influencer simplifies a narrative and thereby wins over young people (usually boys), we condemn it. But the methods used by these influencers, such as Andrew Tate and Jordan Peterson, are the same as those of Mona Keijzer and co. That became clear to me when I was working on a podcast about the ‘manosphere’ before my holiday. One of the interviewees explained in detail that these influencers say to lads who feel misunderstood: ‘That’s right, you’re not seen or valued. But we have the solution.’ Before you know it, they’re peddling products and services that are of little use to young people. Mona does the same. She targets a frustrated section of the population and says to these people: ‘That’s right, you’re misunderstood and overlooked. But I have the solution.’

But Mona has no solution at all. She is the sort of influencer who lures you in with attractive and, above all, simplistic stories. Project 2029 is yet another collection of fables that we’re being read. If these were the fables of Aesop or La Fontaine, in which animals reflect human behaviour with great wisdom, it would be a different story. But Mona’s story isn’t like that. It’s as shallow as a penny.

That is why I propose launching Project 2027. A project that champions genuine, authentic stories, which come from people themselves and are not merely aimed at winning people over. These may be stories from the right and the left, and even from the centre. Stories that tell us the truth, not simplified but navigating the complexity that inevitably characterises our society. This requires a sense of responsibility not only from the storyteller, but also from the listener – to be open to different opinions and to remain independent. Because if we, ordinary people (and I certainly include myself among them), continue to go with the flow of every populist wind that is fanned into life, we will not be taking the wind out of anyone’s sails. Not even Mona Keijzer’s.