The Big Deception: Human Minds Are Slaves to Their Subconscious

The human mind is never a clean slate. After birth (and even before), it is written upon by culture, family, language, traumas, and successes. Each event etches itself into the subconscious, creating frameworks of interpretation that silently govern perception. By the time a person reaches adulthood, their mental world is less a flexible tool of reasoning and more a rigid architecture of biases, assumptions, and reflexive narratives. What most people call "thinking" is in fact a chain reaction of subconscious associations. Experiences trigger emotions, which in turn trigger beliefs. These beliefs then rationalize themselves through stories the mind tells. Once this architecture is in place, no amount of external persuasion can easily dismantle it. Trying to convince someone to abandon their deep-seated worldview is like attempting to change the foundations of a building by painting its walls.

Try, if you will, to change another human being. Try to push against their convictions, their emotions, their way of seeing the world. What happens? They resist. Not because they are evil or stubborn, but because their identity is bound to the patterns that formed them. To abandon those patterns feels like death. To change would mean to admit that the foundation of their life—what they believed, feared, loved—was built on sand. And almost no one willingly destroys the house they live in, even if it is crooked, even if it leaks.

The conscious mind, celebrated as the seat of reason and willpower, is in truth only the tip of the iceberg. Beneath it lies the vast subconscious, operating like an invisible puppeteer. Neuroscience suggests that as much as 95% of thought, emotion, and decision-making arises from unconscious processes. By the time an individual becomes "aware" of a choice, the subconscious has already made it. This means that what feels like deliberate reasoning is often post-hoc justification. People believe they are free agents, rationally choosing paths in life. In reality, their subconscious has already directed their trajectory, and the conscious mind rushes in afterward to create a plausible story. The power to change oneself, let alone others, therefore lies not in conscious argument but in penetrating the subconscious—a realm few ever learn to navigate.

Some individuals are self-aware enough to recognize the grip of their subconscious. They catch themselves repeating patterns, sabotaging goals, or reacting irrationally. Yet even this awareness rarely translates into meaningful change. Why? Knowing that a reflex exists might take away some of its power but does not entirely dissolve it. It is like seeing the strings of a puppet but still being unable to cut them. The subconscious is not persuaded by logic; it is trained through repetition, environment, and emotional imprinting.

There are, of course, moments when people appear to change. A sudden trauma, a profound spiritual experience, or an extended immersion in a new environment can disrupt subconscious patterns enough to force a reconfiguration. Yet these moments are rare and sometimes temporary. Unless the subconscious is continuously reshaped, old patterns resurface like weeds reclaiming a neglected garden. Most apparent "changes" are surface-level adjustments, not deep rewiring. Someone may adopt new habits, change political affiliations, or pursue a new career, yet the underlying drivers—the fears, desires, and emotional reflexes—remain lurking in the shadows. They are merely expressed through new forms. This is why history repeats itself not only on the societal scale but within individuals’ lives. The costumes change; the roles remain the same.

What, then, is to be done? Perhaps the most honest path is acceptance. Stop trying to change others. Stop believing you can argue them into wisdom or love them into clarity. Recognize the futility. Understand that people are what they are—expressions of their subconscious—and that they will remain so unless they themselves take the impossible journey of transformation. And even for yourself, temper your expectations. Do not imagine that knowing your chains, totally frees you from them. Do not assume that a flash of insight remakes who you are entirely. If you truly wish to change, prepare for war—war with the most stubborn adversary you will ever face: the subconscious patterns that have silently ruled your life since childhood. Most will never fight this war. Fewer still will win it.

Financial markets sometimes brutally expose the concepts above. At first glance, markets seem irrational. Prices soar far beyond reason, collapse without warning, and swing with moods that no model can predict. Investors chase what is already expensive, flee from what is undervalued, and repeat these mistakes cycle after cycle. But markets are not irrational—they are human. They are the collective subconscious of millions colliding at once. Fear, greed, herd instinct, loss aversion—these are not anomalies but the very forces that drive price discovery. A price swing is nothing more than psychology rendered visible. And here lies the lesson for the smart investor: do not despise this so-called irrationality. Do not try to fight it, to argue against it, to demand that others “see the truth.” Who is to say they are wrong and you are right? The market is not a debate over truth; it is the sum of perceptions in motion. What appears foolish is simply another mind enslaved to its subconscious, playing its role in the great theater of price. To fight this is futility. To embrace it is wisdom. Markets are not broken—they are human. And once you see that, the madness of others becomes not an obstacle but an opportunity.