Nobody cares about you
Source: Nobody cares about you Publisher: Brackish Waters, Barren Soil | Author: Rohan Ghostwind Published: March 14, 2026 | Archived: March 27, 2026
When I wrote the post “Would you still love me if I was useless?” I wrote about a truth that most men already know — especially those of us who are classified as Low Human Capital™. The truth is this: nobody gives a fuck about you unless you learn how to become a useful tool for other people.
I then followed it up with the incel question. It was nominally a reply to Freddie de Boer. When it comes to dating and relationships, Freddie’s original post on incels was tantamount to saying “Guys, I’m a pretty mediocre fella, and I still managed to get a wife and kid, what’s the big deal?”
This is true, in the same way that it’s true that it’s not particularly difficult to get a job. After all, millions of people, if not billions, have managed to get a job throughout history.
And yet if I made that argument, people who share Freddie’s politics would no doubt point out how there’s a growing swath of people who are structurally locked out of economic prosperity. After all, we just need to look at the labor force participation rate for men over the last several decades:
And yet, the moment you try to point out that the “labor force participation rate” for the dating landscape has a similar vibe, these very same people turn into libertarian boomers.
Superficially, it’s about [babies versus PhD’s](https://brackishwatersbarrensoil.substack.com/p/babies-vs-phds-or-the-right-to-be?r=4p5gn0); in reality it’s an extension of the previous two articles.
If the first two articles are acknowledgement that people will only give a fuck about you under specific circumstances, and that a growing swath of people are fundamentally worthless in the modern world, the third article is an acknowledgement of the bitterness that naturally grows within your heart on account of that knowledge.
The response to that most recent article was interesting. Specifically, one category of response was along the lines of *“Oh, everybody has value in some way, everybody deserves to be loved for who they are and the things that they achieve!”*
I mean it when I say that it’s a beautiful sentiment, but…
So please stop telling people that. It’s mean.
Listen, I get it, there’s a considerable fraction of you that will read all of this and think to yourselves *“oh my god you’re so pessimistic — everybody is beautiful in their own special way and deserves to be recognized.”*
That’s great, feel free to click away, but the simple truth of the matter is this: for an increasing percentage of people living in the present world, *it simply does not match their lived reality.*
My writing seems to resonate with men, especially young men, and I suspect it’s partly because they recognize what it’s like to go *literally decades* without a single person in their life giving a solitary fuck about them. No amount of abstract “kumbaya, everybody deserves love” type of bullshit is going to distract them from the life that they *actually* live.
For these people, the more honest — and quite frankly, the more compassionate — truth is that nobody gives a fuck about them. And to try to state otherwise is just mean.
Here’s a couple of examples that spring to mind.
Example number one: There was that award show with the British people that nobody gives a fuck about. Apparently this one guy with tourette’s started dropping hard R’s while a couple of black guys were on stage.
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Despite the fact that Tourette’s is literally a mental disorder where that exact type of thing tends to happen, people gave him a whole bunch of shit for it. “Like, don’t you know that mental illness is no excuse for racism, guys?!”
Again, people abstractly lament the inequity of mental illness — right up until they have to personally deal with it. That includes a good portion of you people reading this. Just like me, you try to ignore the mumbling deranged guy who smells like shit standing at the entrance of the subway.
Example number two: Let’s take my personal hobby horse of the substack feminist. As far as I’m concerned, you ladies can “dismantle the patriarchy” in about six weeks if you want to.
How, you ask?
Simple, there’s a guy who looks like Matthew Yglesias Circa 2021 currently working in the sanitation department in South Boston. He has an IQ of 87, and makes twenty two thousand a year. His greatest accomplishment is his Funko Pop collection.
You want to dismantle the patriarchy? *Go have sex with this guy.*
No? Would rather call him an incel? Great, that’s your prerogative, then just stop complaining about the small number of guys who control everything.
They don’t have a single person in their life who even remotely gives a shit about them, and so the only enjoyment they have is huffing glue in the back of a Walmart parking lot.
But of course, as I write this, there’s always someone who wants to reflexively reply with something along the lines of: “What? So you just want everyone to be a bitter asshole?”
I don’t *want* anything. You can do or be whatever you want.
The point is this:
- a) though you have *every legitimate right* to feel bitter about the fact that nobody gives a fuck about you,
- b) you’re bitterness is *not going to change that fact*
Again, if none of this is relatable to you, stop reading. In fact, here’s a picture of a puppy as a reward for getting this far:
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But for the rest of you, I refuse to lie to you. You are Low Human Capital™, so you don’t get to exist like everyone else.
If you got run over by a bus tomorrow, your job title would be back-filled before your funeral. Your corpse would be rotted down to the bone before your closeted-homosexual uncle even found out.
Nobody gives a fuck about your pain, or your daddy issues, or the fact that your girl left you for some broccoli haired freshman by the name of Trent. No one gives a fuck about that book you’ve written, or your PhD.
If that fact makes you bitter, it’s because you give a fuck about the fact that nobody cares about you.
My galaxy brain inside is this: you don’t have to care either.
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