📍 melbourne | wurundjeri
Novak Djokovic may dominate tennis, but his legacy in Australia is one of privilege and arrogance. Some might applaud his victories, but admiration? That’s something he’s far from earning.
Novak Djokovic may dominate tennis, but his legacy in Australia is one of privilege and arrogance. Some might applaud his victories, but admiration? That’s something he’s far from earning.
Australia values fairness and resilience. Djokovic trampled on both. His withdrawal at the Open, met with boos, speaks to how little respect he’s earned here. Skill on the court doesn’t erase his entitlement off it.
Australia values fairness and resilience. Djokovic trampled on both. His withdrawal at the Open, met with boos, speaks to how little respect he’s earned here. Skill on the court doesn’t erase his entitlement off it.
The issue isn’t just the fraud or disregard for the rules. It’s the lack of accountability. Djokovic never apologised to Australians. He painted himself as the wronged party, ignoring the sacrifices millions had made.
The issue isn’t just the fraud or disregard for the rules. It’s the lack of accountability. Djokovic never apologised to Australians. He painted himself as the wronged party, ignoring the sacrifices millions had made.
Had a non-famous person attempted what Djokovic did—entering Australia with questionable documentation—they’d face prosecution, fines, and bans. Djokovic? He got a slap on the wrist, flew home, and played the victim.
Had a non-famous person attempted what Djokovic did—entering Australia with questionable documentation—they’d face prosecution, fines, and bans. Djokovic? He got a slap on the wrist, flew home, and played the victim.
While Djokovic bent the truth, everyday Australians faced harsh realities. Families were separated, funerals missed, and countless lives disrupted. Meanwhile, Djokovic expected his fame to grant him special privileges.
While Djokovic bent the truth, everyday Australians faced harsh realities. Families were separated, funerals missed, and countless lives disrupted. Meanwhile, Djokovic expected his fame to grant him special privileges.
If that wasn’t bad enough, photos showed Djokovic maskless at public events the same day he allegedly tested positive. Either he lied about the test or he knowingly attended while infectious.
If that wasn’t bad enough, photos showed Djokovic maskless at public events the same day he allegedly tested positive. Either he lied about the test or he knowingly attended while infectious.
The test, dated Dec 16, 2021, supposedly confirmed his infection. However, metadata exposed it had been altered and appeared to have been created later.
The test, dated Dec 16, 2021, supposedly confirmed his infection. However, metadata exposed it had been altered and appeared to have been created later.
Djokovic claimed an exemption to Australia’s vaccination requirements, citing a positive COVID test in December 2021. Yet investigative work by Der Spiegel revealed damning inconsistencies in his Serbian PCR test.
Djokovic claimed an exemption to Australia’s vaccination requirements, citing a positive COVID test in December 2021. Yet investigative work by Der Spiegel revealed damning inconsistencies in his Serbian PCR test.
It’s hard to forget why Djokovic remains so divisive in Australia. In 2022, he was effectively caught fraudulently entering the country during strict COVID-19 protocols. While Australians endured immense sacrifices, Djokovic flouted the rules.
It’s hard to forget why Djokovic remains so divisive in Australia. In 2022, he was effectively caught fraudulently entering the country during strict COVID-19 protocols. While Australians endured immense sacrifices, Djokovic flouted the rules.
So here’s the question: If the system is broken—and we all know it—why do we keep pretending it works? What does breaking free from hypernormalisation look like? And how do we start imagining something better? How do we stop playing along?
So here’s the question: If the system is broken—and we all know it—why do we keep pretending it works? What does breaking free from hypernormalisation look like? And how do we start imagining something better? How do we stop playing along?
Those ideas sound radical because we’ve been taught they are. But they’re not impossible. Hypernormalisation tells us change is unthinkable. That’s its greatest trick.
Those ideas sound radical because we’ve been taught they are. But they’re not impossible. Hypernormalisation tells us change is unthinkable. That’s its greatest trick.
But rejecting it isn’t enough. What replaces it? A world where power isn’t concentrated in the hands of tech billionaires? A society where platforms like TikTok are tools for empowerment, not bargaining chips for political operatives?
But rejecting it isn’t enough. What replaces it? A world where power isn’t concentrated in the hands of tech billionaires? A society where platforms like TikTok are tools for empowerment, not bargaining chips for political operatives?
The first step is recognising the facade for what it is. Hypernormalisation thrives on passivity. Breaking free starts with rejecting the lies and questioning the narratives we’re fed.
The first step is recognising the facade for what it is. Hypernormalisation thrives on passivity. Breaking free starts with rejecting the lies and questioning the narratives we’re fed.
TikTok’s ban is a perfect example. It’s easier to accept the narrative that it’s a “security risk” than to confront the deeper truth: that our tech ecosystem is controlled by monopolies, and our political system thrives on distraction.
TikTok’s ban is a perfect example. It’s easier to accept the narrative that it’s a “security risk” than to confront the deeper truth: that our tech ecosystem is controlled by monopolies, and our political system thrives on distraction.
So why does hypernormalisation persist? Because the alternative—admitting the system is broken and dismantling it—is terrifying. It requires imagination, collective action, and risk. And right now, most people feel too powerless or cynical to try.
So why does hypernormalisation persist? Because the alternative—admitting the system is broken and dismantling it—is terrifying. It requires imagination, collective action, and risk. And right now, most people feel too powerless or cynical to try.
Now, billionaires hoard wealth while millions can’t afford housing. Everyone knows this isn’t sustainable, but we pretend it is because imagining alternatives feels impossible.
Now, billionaires hoard wealth while millions can’t afford housing. Everyone knows this isn’t sustainable, but we pretend it is because imagining alternatives feels impossible.
And don’t forget the economy. After the 2008 crash, the global economy was exposed as rigged for the wealthy. Instead of reform, we got bailouts for billionaires and austerity for everyone else. The system’s fragility was hidden behind a shiny facade of “growth.”
And don’t forget the economy. After the 2008 crash, the global economy was exposed as rigged for the wealthy. Instead of reform, we got bailouts for billionaires and austerity for everyone else. The system’s fragility was hidden behind a shiny facade of “growth.”
Even Trump’s critics are complicit. We doom-scroll his antics, shaking our heads but feeding the system that props him up. Hypernormalisation thrives on this paradox: we hate the spectacle, but we can’t look away.
Even Trump’s critics are complicit. We doom-scroll his antics, shaking our heads but feeding the system that props him up. Hypernormalisation thrives on this paradox: we hate the spectacle, but we can’t look away.
Then there’s Trump himself. His chaotic, absurd presidency should’ve been an anomaly, but instead, it became the new normal. His return is treated as inevitable. The media plays along because his spectacle is profitable—for ratings, clicks, and political theatre.
Then there’s Trump himself. His chaotic, absurd presidency should’ve been an anomaly, but instead, it became the new normal. His return is treated as inevitable. The media plays along because his spectacle is profitable—for ratings, clicks, and political theatre.