

Harrison Pitt, a British writer, policy fellow at Restore Britain, and political commentator, recently sat down with academic Dr. Nima Parvini—better known online as “Academic Agent”—for a wide-ranging conversation about the globalist-left’s ideological pivot away from ham-fisted wokism and the Right’s inability to capitalize on it.
Parvini has built a reputation as a sharp reader of power: how systems reproduce themselves, how ideology functions as social control, and why populist energy so often gets absorbed by the machine it claims to fight. Pitt, as host, plays the role of impatient diagnostician—less interested in partisan theatre than in the mechanics of regime survival.
The interview’s central claim is this: the era of maximum-volume “woke” politics is receding, not because the left-globalist elites reformed themselves and their modes of thinking, but because it became operationally costly. It should be seen as nothing more than a tactical retreat by a managerial class that is retooling.
Parvini begins by arguing that the “putting the woke away” shift was visible well before most commentators noticed. He points to his own essay, Putting the Woke Away (later included in his book Political Theory), written in 2022–23 as an early attempt to map the elite’s changing incentives.
For Parvini, Britain’s former Labour Prime Minister Tony Blair (1997-2007) is the key tell—not because Blair is uniquely powerful, but because Blair acts as a reliable ventriloquist for ruling-class adaptation. The media calls Blair’s pronouncements “rare interventions,” Parvini jokes, even though Blair appears constantly, issuing instructions by op-ed.
In Parvini’s telling, Blair had been guiding Labour’s repositioning long before Starmer entered Downing Street. His instructions were simple: tone down the anti-White, anti-male excesses, purge the internal, uncouth radicals, and present as competent administrators—the “adults in the room.”
The practical trigger, he argues, was not moral revulsion but institutional performance—especially recruitment. Pitt notes that both U.S. and British military recruitment fell sharply, and Parvini treats that as a civilizational warning—young men, often White, were checking out of the system.
Parvini cites a report by an American officer attributing the slump to the obvious—alienation, contempt for DEI-heavy messaging, and a belief that institutions no longer serve ordinary citizens. When states can’t recruit those who historically have acted as its primary defenders, the ideological software is malfunctioning.
He then widens the lens to corporate power, pointing to BlackRock CEO Larry Fink’s annual letter urging a retreat from overt politicization and a return to “business and basics.” For Parvini, that’s how the regime speaks when it wants to change the subject without admitting error.
The result, he says, is a real—if partial—toning down of the most aggressive forms of 2020-era wokery. He reminds viewers how quickly careers were destroyed for failing to signal loyalty to fashionable causes, and how relentlessly entertainment and advertising were turned into ideological enforcement mechanisms.
Today, he argues, the woke fever has cooled some. The language of accusation remains—“racist,” “bigot,” “transphobe,” and so on—but the cultural bombardment is less overt and less intense, partly because it stopped working and partly because cracks in critical institutions began showing.
Parvini even uses military advertising as a cultural barometer. Where recruitment ads once sold the armed forces as a multicultural, feminized, gap-year travel club, he now sees a return to masculine cues and less forced diversity—an implicit admission that a nation cannot meme its way into readiness.
He adds a darker inference: NATO’s posture suggests preparation for major conflict, and elites understand they cannot fight a hard world with a soft, self-loathing moral aesthetic. Whatever slop story they’re feeding the public, the regime and its institutions are behaving as if pressure is coming.
From there Pitt shifts to electoral messaging and asks whether recent left-wing wins, such as Zohran Mamdani’s New York City mayoral victory, signal a “return of wokery.” Parvini’s answer is that what’s rising is not woke maximalism but a softened, left-populist mask designed to make the same moral architecture tolerable again.
He points to the Mamdani campaign in New York as a case study: strip away the slander and you find an image of the candidate as a “regular guy,” obsessed with everyday costs and speaking in plain terms. The Left is now taking a page straight out of Trump’s 2016 playbook.
Even the British Greens, Parvini says, are adapting—downplaying the climate alarmist liturgy in favor of broad anti-elite sentiment. Billionaires, ever-increasing rents, out-of-reach housing prices, inflation, inheritance, and the idea that the system is rigged against working people. The ideological commitments remain; the sales pitch is simply less alienating.
Pitt presses on the deeper question: has the ideology actually retreated, or has it just gone quiet? Parvini argues the latter—wokeness is being soft-pedaled, not renounced, and it still functions as a set of litmus tests.
He then offers examples. Public figures still perform identity pieties on demand, and minoritarian “proof of virtue” questions still appear in mainstream debates. The regime may have lowered the volume, but it has, without a doubt, kept the compliance rituals.
Parvini then describes wokeness at its peak not as egalitarian but as hierarchical—what he calls the “progressive stack.” By assigning moral status by demographic category and placing the “pale, male, and stale” at the bottom, the system predictably generated a backlash—one it is now scrambling to contain.
Crucially, Parvini argues, this was never straightforward liberalism. It drew inspiration from post-modern and post-Marxist critiques: Western “ways of knowing” treated as suspect, even to the point of activism around “indigenous mathematics” and other epistemic revolts.
Yet Parvini insists the deepest driver is emotional rather than scholarly: an animating resentment and a desire for a “curative onslaught” against what the West, especially straight white men, built. Intersectionality, in this view, is less a theory than an engine for moral inversion.
Pitt then draws a historical analogy: Trotsky versus Lenin—radical fervor versus pragmatic consolidation. Parvini agrees, arguing that the new left-populism is merely a tactical retreat, tamping down the movement’s more visibly “psychotic” impulses so the broader project isn’t endangered.
At this point the conversation turns from the left to the right—and to the regime’s capacity to self-correct. Pitt frames Blair as a kind of oligarchic, ideological founder figure, with Starmer as the dull bureaucratic successor—uncreative, unpopular, yet stubbornly protected.
Pitt then argues Starmer’s government is doing “dirty work” that future rulers may benefit from: unpopular decrees like digital ID, and other enforcement measures that shift the baseline regardless of who wins later. Parvini’s response is strategic: if the Right wins, it must not settle for vibes and shallow propaganda.
He warns against “Pyrrhic victories”—elections that change the cast but preserve the script. Blair mattered, Parvini says, because he embedded ideology structurally: quangos, regulators, consolidated super-bills, and managerial machinery that has long outlived him.
Britain’s problem, he argues, is that a parliamentary majority grants enormous power—the “Divine Right of Parliament”—yet supposed right-wing challengers often refuse to wield it. They cling to classical-liberal squeamishness, Parvini asserts, while their opponents happily use the state as a moral weapon.
Parvini’s bleakest claim lands near the end of the conversation. Nigel Farage’s Reform UK, in his view, looks like a rebranded Tory product and may eventually merge with the Conservative machine. The system, he suggests, needs performative politics—red versus blue—so the public stays invested in the spectacle rather than questioning the permanent, managerial class itself.
Finally, Parvini introduces his “boomer truth regime” metaphor—John Lennon and Winston Churchill both flashing the V sign—where the reigning moral good is unlimited self-expression, and any attempt to impose civilizational limits is instantly branded fascism. Under that regime, apology never works, and the right cannot win by begging to be called “nice.”
The interview ends on a civilizational challenge: if globalist elites are adapting, the largely rightist opposition must adapt faster—and with more seriousness. In Parvini’s framing, the question is no longer whether the woke era is “over,” but whether its opponents can stop mistaking a quieted revolution for a defeated one.
The post Tactical Woke Retreat: Harrison Pitt and Dr. Nima Parvini Discuss How the Globalist Managerial Class Adapted—and Why the Right Fails to Strike appeared first on The Gateway Pundit.
