Epiwar™️ and Bafflegab
Futurology’s Language of Naming
Epiwar™️ is short for epistemological warfare — the fight to control how people think about reality, what questions get asked, and who gets to decide what counts as knowledge. The hidden contest of the battle lies in claiming the authority to decide which topics are open and which are closed; it’s about shaping the boundaries of conversation itself.
One of the main tools of Epiwar™️ is Bafflegab1: language that sounds impressive or complicated but hides meaning, agency, and responsibility behind layers of jargon and abstraction. Bafflegab makes it difficult to question authority or even to know what is actually being said.
The Berggruen Institute’s Futurology promo stands out for its urgent, abstract language. The script features lines like “the future is overtaking the present,” “a chasm between our capabilities and the concepts we have to understand and contain them,” and “paradigms at the edge of chaos.” At one point, it even asks, “How can we maintain our humanity as we reckon with an alien intelligence that has already arrived?” (Somewhere, someone at Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems is smiling).
Each phrase sounds dramatic, but a particular use of language is doing the real work: nominalization.
Nominalization literally means “to name.” The term originates from the Latin for “name,” and in both grammar and philosophy, it refers to the act of transforming something active — such as thinking, questioning, or exploring — into a noun, a thing, or an object. In the promo, movement, change, and questioning are presented as “things.” “The future,” “the chasm,” and “paradigm collapse” are not described as ongoing debates or open questions.
They’re treated as objects — real, established parts of the landscape. The script goes so far as to say, “naming those concepts requires work, and that is the work of futurology.” Here, naming itself becomes both the task and the sign of expertise. The act of thinking, exploring, and questioning gets turned into a set of named, finished things.
This theme runs throughout the Berggruen Institute’s work. Their magazine, Noema, takes its name from the Greek word for “thought” or “that which is thought.” Choosing Noema as a title signals a shift from “thinking” (an active, ongoing process) to “thought” (a thing, a product, a noun). The Institute’s brand treats concepts as objects to be collected, labeled, and displayed — much like the art world that shaped its founder, Nicholas Berggruen.
Other meta-model patterns appear in the promo. Lost performative structures are present in every call to action and value judgment. For example, when the script claims, “it’s time to foster entire new fields of inquiry,” it never says who gets to decide this, or who set the standard. The most important judgments and priorities float without anyone naming the source. Listeners are told what’s necessary, but never told who made those decisions or why the Institute should lead.
Thanks to the generosity of my readers, all my articles are available for free access. Independent journalism, however, requires time and investment. If you found value in this article or any others, please consider sharing or even becoming a paid subscriber, who benefits by joining the conversation in the comments. I want you to know that your support is always gratefully received and will never be forgotten. Please buy me a coffee or as many as you wish.
The script also relies on cause-effect patterns. It presents the idea that as the future “overtakes” the present or as technologies “outrun” ideologies, crises will automatically follow. These phrases make change sound like something that happens to everyone — beyond the reach of personal or collective choice — when in reality, actual people make decisions and set directions.
Complex equivalence is at work when the promo links “danger of destruction” with “space to create something truly new,” treating risk and opportunity as if they are always tied together, even though the details are never explained. The language turns uncertainty and debate into packages of “problems” and “possibilities,” but without spelling out what those actually mean.
Throughout, the script uses deletions — key terms go undefined, and it’s never clear what, for example, the “chasm” really is, or what would count as a paradigm “collapsing.” Important details are omitted, making it difficult to challenge or comprehend the underlying claims.
This language fits the larger Epiwar™️ and Bafflegab pattern: set the agenda, claim authority, and manage meaning by naming and defining. The conversation is steered by those who do the naming, while the actual process of questioning, debating, and deciding disappears from view. The audience is left with a set of named objects and problems, but not the means to see where these came from or to question who gets to frame the future.
Bafflegab: Multiloquence characterised by a consummate interfusion of circumlocution and other familiar manifestations of abstruse expatiation commonly utilised for promulgations implementing procrustean determinations by governmental bodies.
Another excellent informative article Peter, thank you. I like learning new words and todays take is ‘bafflegab’, explains many things we hear today exactly. I believe it important to use words and language to the full; we can see how the deconstruction of language and speech today controls thought, opinions and ideas!
Berggruen seems like a highbrow Stuart Smalley. (Apologies if you've already made that comparison when commenting about him.)