This is the Blue Dot Effect. The better things get, the more we perceive threats where there are none, and the more upset we become. And it is at the heart of the paradox of progress. In the nineteenth century, Emile Durkheim, the founder of sociology and an early pioneer of the social sciences, ran a thought experiment in one of his books: What if there were no crime? What if there emerged a society where everyone was perfectly respectful and nonviolent and everyone was equal? What if no one lied or hurt each other? What if corruption did not exist? What would happen? Would conflict cease? Would stress evaporate? Would everyone frolic in fields picking daisies and singing the “Hallelujah” chorus from Handel’s Messiah? Durkheim said no, that in fact the opposite would happen. He suggested that the more comfortable and ethical a society became, the more that small indiscretions would become magnified in our minds. If everyone stopped killing each other, we wouldn’t necessarily feel good about it. We’d just get equally upset about the more minor stuff.

Manson, Mark. Everything Is F*cked : A Book about Hope. Unabridged. [New York, NY] : HarperAudio, 2019.

Prosper-René Blondlot (1849–1930) was an accomplished French physicist who received three prizes from the Académie des Sciences for his work in electromagnetism. Despite this, he is best known for his role in one of the classic scientific blunders of modern times. In 1895 German scientist Wilhelm Röntgen discovered X-rays, electromagnetic radiation with a wavelength ranging from 0.01 to 10 nanometers. This discovery made Röntgen famous and brought significant prestige to the German physics community. The discovery also created the expectation that other forms of electromagnetic radiation would soon be discovered, and many physicists, including Blondlot, sought to do just that. It was therefore not surprising when, in 1903, Blondlot announced the discovery of another source of radiation that he named N-rays (after his birthplace, Nancy, France, and his university). Between 1903 and 1906 no less than three hundred papers on N-rays were published in the scientific literature, involving about a hundred scientists and medical researchers. At least forty scientists claimed to see these N-rays. Blondlot reported that N-rays were produced by many types of matter, both living and inert (everything except green wood and some treated metals), and that their strength increased with the “psychic activity” of the source. His experimental setup included a hot wire inside an iron tube to generate the N-rays, which were then refracted through a 60-degree angle prism of aluminum, and in turn were detected by a calcium sulfide thread that would glow slightly. The subtle glow could only be perceived in the dark by those with sharp vision. Other researchers discovered much about the properties of N-rays: They could apparently penetrate metal and wood but were blocked by water. Medical scientists discovered they were emitted by muscles and the human brain and hoped they would be as useful in medical diagnosis as X-rays were turning out to be. It was discovered that N-rays could be transmitted over a wire. The science of N-rays was taking off, but there was one slight problem. N-rays do not exist. All of this research was nothing more than self-deception.
(...)
The story of N-rays is a classic cautionary tale of pathological science, bias, and self-deception among otherwise accomplished scientists. And yet the story is not nearly as well known as it should be. The French scientists ignored many red flags that should have stoked their own skepticism. In science it pays to be one’s own most vehement critic and greatest skeptic. This means trying earnestly to prove your own hypothesis wrong, and tentatively accepting it only to the degree that it survives dedicated attempts at doing so.

In altre parole, non c’è prodotto di cultura che mi sia estraneo. Non mi identifico con nessuno di essi al cento per cento, in modo totale e assoluto, e certamente non al prezzo di negarmi altri piaceri. Mi sento di casa dappertutto, nonostante non ci sia un posto (o forse proprio perché non c’è un posto) che io possa chiamare casa. Non è tanto questione di scontro tra un gusto (raffinato) e un altro (volgare), quanto tra l’essere onnivori e l’essere univori, tra la disponibilità a consumare tutto e la selettività schizzinosa. L’élite culturale è viva e vegeta; è più attiva e appassionata che mai. 

Bauman, Zygmunt. Per tutti i gusti: la cultura nell’età dei consumi. Roma: Laterza, 2016.