Back in the day, it was Gaston or Gérard, 9 a.m. sharp, elbow on the bar counter, white wine glass standing proud, mustache slightly frayed. They were busy remaking the world, powered by liver and popular wisdom, punctuating each puff of cigarette with bold declarations: “Politicians? All the same!” or “You’ll see, this Minitel thing is gonna end badly.” It was noisy, it smelled like cold ashtrays and plastic tablecloths — but at least, it stayed within the stained walls of the corner café.
Today, things are… more polished. Gaston traded the counter for a ring light, the café for the start-up nation. He no longer talks, he “expresses himself.” In carousels. In podcasts. In “face cam” videos. And his white wine? It’s now a bamboo mug — compostable, handcrafted by an ethical Costa Rican cooperative — engraved with “CEO of my life”, filled with lukewarm oat milk latte. Because it’s good for the planet, for the image, and above all, for the personal branding.
And of course, he knows everything. He’s skimmed three online articles and memorized one quote from Confucius (probably made up). He has an opinion on pension reform, Indo-Pacific geopolitics, generative AI, and the emotional wellbeing of captive orcas. Perfect — because he’s going to enlighten us in 17 emoji-filled posts.
And the worst part? It works. People like, they comment, they share. They even thank him: “Thank you Gaston for your insightful take 
” Insightful? Gaston just said, “We must put people at the center.” That’s it. That’s his deep thought. An IKEA slogan, dressed up as wisdom.
But above all, don’t you dare stay silent. In today’s world, silence is a crime against attention. You must speak out. Even if you’ve got nothing to say. Especially if everyone else has already said it — but not quite with your voice. Or rather, your LinkedIn coach’s voice.
So allow me this wildly outdated suggestion: if you’ve got nothing to say — truly nothing, not even a flicker of thought, a tiny spark of insight, or heaven forbid, a sentence with both subject and verb — then offer the world this rare gift: say nothing. The world might even thank you. Or not. But at least, we’ll all get a bit of breathing room.
And who knows… in the hush of not speaking, maybe — just maybe — something worth saying will finally come.