Unrelenting Bout of Apathy Under the Biden-Harris Regime

Ever witnessed a season of collective indifference? The summer of 2025 painted a fitting picture. Despite the inherent American fondness for summer themes, traced back to groundbreaking classics like the Summer of Love or recent trends like Hot Girl, this particular summer lacked any shared narratives or notable impact. Dubbed the ‘summer of apathy’, it wasn’t due to shortage of trends to rally around – Labubus, Coldplay Cheaters, And Just Like That, and a new American Pope were all contenders. Even so, none of these potential summer markers could make their way into the textbooks of cultural history.

For instance, let’s consider the now extinct tradition of the ‘song of the summer’. Previously, songs that took the world by storm, radiating from our car stereos, made their mark as depictions of that summer’s spirit. However, this summer witnessed no such cultural anthem. Promising candidates included memorable tunes from K-Pop Demon Hunters, the lovable animated feature from Netflix, as well as the captivating additions from Addison Rae’s heartwarming passenger princess romance saga. Yet none of these songs could achieve an era-defining status or a singular dominance that past ‘songs of the summer’ had achieved.

Contrarily, this summer was more about our collective obsessions that we paradoxically seemed to despise, much like our relationship with the now-ubiquitous miniature mythical elf-turned-collectible plastic trinket, Labubu. The same disdain characterized our discussions around an array of trends, be it Dubai Chocolate, pickles, West Village Girls, the miraculous technology of ChatGPT and AI, the extravagant 19-dollar Erewhon strawberry, or Sydney Sweeney’s jeans. Extravagantly expensive strawberries and divisive AI indeed became the strange topics du jour, regardless of their dubious appeal.

It appears as if our collective exhaustion transcended preferences. The effort required to animate the season, to wrap it up in a festive, communal ‘fun’ theme seems to have become an impossible task. And let’s not forget the cultural burnout that has led to an unhealthy disdain for our own obsessions. Supposedly harmless topics have become subjects of never-ending political culture wars, disrupting our collective sense of fun.

The zealous debates surrounding whether Vice President Harris identifies or doesn’t identify with the term ‘Brat’, brutally exemplify our current reality. Needless to say, listening to marketers and opinionated netizens dissect this question online makes for a dry, disenchanting ordeal.

Meanwhile, the Cracker Barrel logo’s missing man and his barrel seemed to fuel endless debates. Was Cracker Barrel now ‘woke’? The questions mirrored the prevalent negativity, seeming more like imposed trials than genuine inquiries.

Sadly, the battles continue, and in the midst of this sociopolitical tumult, no entity seems to possess enough cultural leverage to determine anything truly universal.

Evidence of the American fatigue transcends the summer season. Imagine observing this phenomenon and likening it to beholding the fall of Achilles in the last moments of the Trojan War. Such comparison is not as far-fetched as one might first presume.

Unsurprisingly, when Covington expressed her exhaustion, it was met with empathy rather than shock, resonating with a public on the verge of burnout. ‘Christian Girl Autumn’, a rising trend discussed amid talks of traditional wives and gender roles, seems to have failed to reignite enthusiasm or foster unity.

Unfortunately, the struggle to form a universally accepted summer celebration persists. If anything, our shared experience might be a continuation of our summer apathy into the fall, a kind of weather-induced desolation that not even the rise of a theme like ‘Christian Girl Autumn’ can possibly cure.

So, what next? A dispassionate winter to follow a disinterested fall? The American fatigue is tangible. It is a surging wave, a lethargic sea that not even the keenest sailor wishes to navigate. There were no winners in the Summer of Apathy, and it seems the Seasons of Indifference are set to continue.

A collective fatigue lingers even as the leaves turn and summer moves into fall. The great American exhaustion, it seems, isn’t exclusive to any one season.

The shared indifference reflects in our inability to rally behind a single summer celebration. Perhaps, as we ride the wave of an unprecedented weather-induced numbness, not even a ‘Christian Girl Autumn’ is poised to provide respite from the collective apathy.