I didn’t wake up one day and decide to be an anarchist. It wasn’t a rebellion for rebellion’s sake, or some teenage reaction against authority. It was a slow realisation, built up over years of watching the same story play out over and over, regardless of which party had the keys to Number 10.

I used to believe in democracy, or at least the version we were sold. That if we voted, stayed informed, followed the rules, things would get better. That the people we elected would serve us. Represent us. Protect us. But it didn’t take long to see that wasn’t happening, and maybe never had.

Consecutive governments, both Labour and Conservative, have promised change. They’ve used slick campaigns, focus-grouped slogans, and endless media spins to convince us that they're "for the people." But behind the curtain, very little has actually changed, except for the worse.

What I realised is this: the system isn’t broken. It’s doing exactly what it was built to do. It transfers wealth and power upward, from ordinary working people to corporations, elites, and those who already have more than they could ever need. It's a system that rewards tax avoidance and punishes poverty, where lobbyists have more influence than voters, and where public services are carved up and sold off like spare parts in a scrapyard.

The media, especially the mainstream press, acts as a kind of PR machine for this charade. They frame the debate, control the narrative, and keep us divided, left vs. right, working class vs. immigrant, public vs. private—so we don’t unite and ask the bigger question: Why do we keep voting for people who do not work for us?

I’ve asked myself that a lot. Why do people still cling to the hope that one more general election, one more charismatic leader, one more "centre-ground" policy will fix everything? Maybe it's because we've been raised to think this is the only way, that government, as flawed as it is, is all we’ve got.

But I don’t buy that anymore. The truth is, governments are structurally incapable of making people’s lives better in a meaningful, lasting way. Not because the individuals in them are all bad people (though plenty are), but because their very design puts power in the hands of a few, and asks us to trust they won’t abuse it.

Spoiler: they always do.

That’s why I’m an anarchist. Not because I want chaos or lawlessness, but because I believe in something better. I believe in communities organising for themselves, in mutual aid, in decentralised decision-making. I believe in dismantling systems of control that put profit above people, and replacing them with networks of care, solidarity, and shared responsibility.

We need a society where people have real power over their own lives. Where wealth and resources are shared fairly. Where no one is left behind, and no one gets to sit above the rest and call it leadership.

Anarchism, to me, isn’t about tearing everything down for the sake of it. It’s about building something new, something honest. And that starts with refusing to play along with a system that has never worked for us, and never will.