Žižek Against Progress is definitely one of the more provocative book titles I own. I still struggle to answer when people ask:

“What is the book about?”

Because explaining Žižek is, honestly, hard work for me. Just try watching a Žižek video—it’s difficult to follow his way of thinking. He’s many things: communist, Hegelian, Lacanian, and a psychoanalyst. If you like movies, you should watch The Pervert’s Guide to Cinema, where he overanalyzes everything for two and a half hours.

In this book, Žižek opens by explaining the idea of progress through the movie The Prestige. The film begins with a magician’s act where a bird disappears. Later, we learn that to perform the trick, the bird has to be crushed to death and secretly replaced with another one.

Progress works similarly. For something to be called progress, there is often something sacrificed, someone who has to pay the price.

“Progress can also be a mask of oppression”

This made me reflect on what happened in Venezuela. While some people see it as progress for Venezuelan democracy, it is undeniably also a form of oppression.

What I think is the most important takeaway from Žižek is this: we need to redefine “progress.”

“The worst thing that can happen to our concept of progress is to allow opponents of authentic betterment to define what counts as progress”

So what is progress? If we need to redefine it for ourselves, what should the parameters be? 

I got the question from my book club discussion this week, and I understand why this has become an increasingly relevant question, as now we can see people find themselves trapped in a loop of repetitive routines, attempting to balance professional responsibilities and personal fulfillment all at once. Maintain a 9 to 5 job, exercise regularly, eat a healthy diet, build a side hustle, and remain socially active, becoming the standard nowadays. 24 hours no longer feel enough for a day.

It is not difficult to understand why this way of living is so widely accepted. For many, constant movement feels like protection. Staying busy can serve as a defense mechanism against depression, overthinking, and emotional discomfort.

Depression can’t hit a moving target, right?

For some individuals, stopping, even briefly, means being confronted by intrusive thoughts, sadness, or emptiness. In other cases, it leads to quieter forms of avoidance, such as endless scrolling that consumes time without providing meaning. In this context, busyness becomes a coping strategy rather than a deliberate choice.

I do not believe that busyness is inherently harmful. Engaging in activities like joining a running club after work, spending time in cafés with friends, or investing energy in building a career can shape character.

However, this is only true when they are accompanied by mindfulness.

I believe mindfulness is what distinguishes genuine progress from mere activity. Without awareness, motion becomes automatic, and effort becomes performative. We may appear productive while remaining unchanged.

This brings us to the central question: What does progress actually mean? Who defines it for you?

Is it you? Is it the running shoes you’re using to work out? Is it the car brand you drive? because from the shoes company’s point of view, you starting to run is progress. From the car company’s view, having a nice car means you’re living a better life. But for yourself, is it really progress? When progress isn’t defined by you, most of the time, it’s progress measured in capital value. The kind of progress capitalism is very good at promoting.

As Slavoj Žižek says:

“The worst thing that can happen to our concept of progress is to allow opponents of authentic betterment to define what counts as progress.”

Without reflection, we risk mistaking growth. Mindfulness allows us to pause, evaluate our actions, and reclaim the authority to define progress for ourselves.

i like the idea of self-observation of Philippa Perry in How to Stay Sane. She advocates the importance of observing one’s internal experience to maintain emotional balance and clarity.

“If we are our emotions rather than an observer of them, we veer into chaos. If we repress our feelings altogether, we swing the other way, into rigidity.”

Self-observation offers a middle ground. By paying attention to our internal state, we can respond rather than react. We begin by asking simple yet essential questions: What am I feeling right now? What am I thinking? What am I doing in this moment?

These questions are not meant to produce immediate answers or solutions. Instead, they create awareness. And once awareness is established, a more meaningful question can emerge:

What do I want for myself in this new moment?

In answering this question repeatedly, we move beyond being busy and begin to engage in intentional growth. Progress, then, is no longer defined by constant motion, but by conscious direction.

I’ve always thought borrowing books is personal. People get to see your underlines, annotations, and taste in books. But beyond that, I think it’s personal because I need to retell the story from my perspective, yet I know I’m not good at this.

One day I finished reading Animal Farm, and my friend asked what it was about. I said, “In a nutshell, totalitarianism never works.”

“You need to read a book to know that?” he said. That’s the funniest exchange between us, and I still remember it to this day.

Another day, I retold The Midnight Library to the same friend. At the end, I said, “If the book is a sandwich, I don’t like the bread.”

“You’re very philosophical about it,” he said.

No matter how many books I’ve read or how simple they are, I always worry about retelling a story. What if it’s not what it really is?

Despite the thoughts and feelings we pour in, I think retelling a story will never be the same. Everyone has a different angle to see a story.

“When a new higher stage arrives, there must be a squashed bird somewhere”

-Against Progress

Malam itu ia bertanya. Hidup tampaknya bisa berjalan tanpa alasan. Bangun melakukan hal yang sama besok, ia hidup karena masih hidup saja. Tidak dikejar atau mengejar kecuali bekerja.  “Apa juga yang aku lawan. Tidak ada tokoh penjahat yang menunggu kemalanganku”.

Tapi dirinya lupa kalau dia tumbuh sebagai anak yang mencoba mengarang cerita. Tentu saja dia punya beberapa nama yang memerankan antagonis dihidupnya. Bibi yang banyak komentar tentang keluarganya, guru yang tak suka padanya, atau sesederhana mantan dari mantan pacarnya. Mereka di sekenarionya tidak rela kalau dia hidup bahagia. Seolah-olah dia pusat semesta. Sungguh anak kecil yang menggelikan.

Tapi malam itu ia juga menyadari perbedaan di nadanya. Ia tak lagi geli membayangkan dirinya yang masih remaja. “Sukur saja aku tumbuh dengan puisi dan dongeng”. Justru dia sedih betapa ia tak lagi anak kecil yang menulis pertanyaan menggelitik di jurnal. Mengapresiasi lirik lagu atau menggambar sketsa daun. Anak kecil itu bukan lagi dia.

Makan malam dengan pertanyaan dan gambar. “Apakah sudah saatnya botox?” “Ah, haruskah beli sesuatu supaya sedikit merasa senang?” “Kira-kira ada dimana ijazah SMA?” Dia putuskan mencoba membaca buku 10 menit. Mungkin bisa merubah suasana hatinya.

Ah, terkadang dia masih anak kecil yang sama. Hanya terkadang.

“Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between hunter and its prey.”

-On Earth, We Are Briefly Gorgeous

Dia mencoba menulis semua kontradiksi yang mengganggunya tapi dia pikir ini tentu saja bukan pertama kalinya seorang wanita mencoba mengutarakan sulitnya jadi wanita. Harus ini tapi tidak terlalu ini, tidak boleh itu tapi tetap itu, jadi itu tapi juga ini. Tidak masuk akal sekaligus sangat masuk akal. Baginya dan tentu saja setiap Wanita. Tidak kurang dan tidak lebih. Tidak istimewa.

Mungkin lupakan saja hal-hal yang mengganggu hatinya dan bekerja keras. Apa susahnya kerja keras? Diluar sana orang memilih bakat mereka dan menjadikannya identitas yang utuh. Tapi semua orang bekerja keras, termasuk sabtu dan minggu, termasuk siang dan malam. Ia tidak lambat namun tak cepat. Cukup untuk membuatnya tak dimangsa harimau andai ia seeokor rusa di padang pasir. Konon dia hanya cukup jadi lebih cepat dari yang ter-lambat. Tidak kurang dan tidak lebih. Tidak istimewa.

Dia cukup percaya bahwa dirinya pintar. Sayangnya tidak cukup pintar. Di banyak kesempatan ketika dadu dilempar ia lebih memilih untuk tak bermain. Di banyak kesempatan ia menerima cara untuk tidak kecewa adalah dengan tak mengambil langkah di luar identitasnya yang biasa saja. Tidak kurang dan tidak lebih. Tidak istimewa.

Sangat mudah mendapatkan uang dari melakukan hal bodoh. Sayangnya dia tidak cukup bodoh. Tidak cukup untuk menari, bernyanyi atau bicara omong kosong yang berarti sesuatu bagi seseorang. Walau hanya untuk seseorang dia tidak bisa mengorbankan jatidirinya yang membosankan itu. Tidak kurang dan tidak lebih. Tidak istimewa.

Masih ada hal yang menggangu pikirannya. Dilema moral itu tentang kereta api yang melaju tak terkendali ke arah 5 orang yang terikat di rel. Di dekatnya ada sebuah tuas yang mengarah pada satu orang dengan nasib yang sama. Bahkan di skenario yang melibatkan orang-orang dikereta, orang-orang yang terikat di rel dan dirinya, baginya tak ada satupun yang spesial.  Semuanya bernasib buruk. Tidak kurang dan tidak lebih. Tidak istimewa.

Walau bagaimanapun bukan itu dilemma kereta yang tak henti ia pikirkan. Bagaimana kalau tidak ada yang diikat. Tidak ada yang dalam bahaya. Kedua jalur menuju masa depan yang sama. Tidak kurang dan tidak lebih. Tidak istimewa. Tuas didekatnya tidak memiliki konsekuensi apapun pada masa depan. Keberadaannya tidak berarti, hanya sebuah titik tidak berguna di alam smesta. Tapi haruskah dia menarik tuas?

Tidak ada masalah yang perlu diselesaikan. Tidak ada yang bermakna. Tidak ada itu mengganggunya.

L’appel du vide

“Let’s face it: our lives are miserable, laborious, and short.”

-Animal Farm-

“A somber serenity settles within sorrow’s depths, though language falters.”