Fear for the Future Becomes Grounds for Terrorism Suspicion: America's Security Agencies Have Found a New Enemy

Anyone who thinks the world is beyond hope should probably think twice about where they put those thoughts into writing in America these days. That's what another investigation we've completed over the past few days has revealed. Security agencies have created a new threat category that puts despair over humanity's future alongside violent extremism. They call it "Eco-Nihilist/Anti-Human Extremism," or ENAH for short. The government has once again discovered something that might pose a danger to it: people who question its idea of progress. The future can look bleak. You'd just better keep that to yourself.

On August 11, 2026, the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension prepared a 12-page reference guide. The Wisconsin Statewide Intelligence Center circulated it among American law enforcement agencies on August 14. The document is marked "Unclassified // Law Enforcement Sensitive" and appears under the heading "Terrorism & Homeland Security." Police officers and private-sector security partners are supposed to use it to identify signs of dangerous thinking and related online activity. Another new drawer for the security apparatus. And drawers have the unpleasant habit of eventually having someone shoved into them.

America's security agencies now have a new extremism category for people who fear ecological collapse or believe humanity is destructive. The document from Minnesota was circulated to law enforcement agencies through the Wisconsin Statewide Intelligence Center. The particularly grotesque part: The document's authors themselves acknowledge that ideology alone should not be viewed as an indicator of violent extremist intent. Yet the government's search for potential threats has gained another label under which people could eventually find themselves in the crosshairs.

The authorities describe people who believe ecological collapse is inevitable and consider humanity fundamentally harmful to the planet. They also include ideas about drastically reducing the world's population or bringing about the collapse of modern civilization. Even opposition to technological developments is addressed in this context. Anyone worried about data centers is therefore operating in an intellectual territory from which, according to the authorities' reasoning, violence against critical infrastructure could also emerge. Apparently, the distance between a concern and police suspicion can be reduced to a few lines of text.

What's particularly revealing is what the reference guide admits about its own discovery. The supposed movement doesn't even exist as a cohesive organization. Its ideas appear in isolated writings and online communities, the authors acknowledge. They can also be found in extremist manifestos. At the same time, the authors explicitly emphasize that "Ideology alone should not be viewed as an indicator of violent extremist intent." Actual behavior and signs of preparation for violence matter more. A realization that hardly requires the creation of a new extremism category. Yet that's exactly what has happened. Suspicion gets a name before anyone has convincingly established the social reality behind it.

As a concrete example, the authorities point to Guy Bartkus. In 2025, he carried out a bombing outside a fertility clinic in Palm Springs, California, and died in the explosion. Bartkus left behind writings arguing that bringing new people into existence was immoral. A senior FBI official in Los Angeles said, "The subject had nihilistic ideations." Former FBI profiler Mary Ellen O'Toole associated such thinking with preoccupations involving violence and hopelessness. An actual act of violence thus becomes the starting point for the government's classification of a much broader world of ideas. One perpetrator gives rise, on paper, to the possibility of countless other suspects.

Yet the document itself describes such violence as "extremely uncommon." If it does occur, the perpetrators would more likely be lone actors or small online groups. Nevertheless, ENAH has been placed within the broader category of "Nihilistic Violent Extremism." Under that heading, security agencies classify cases in which perpetrators express generalized hatred of society or humanity. A remarkably generous vocabulary. Young people, in particular, have expressed contempt for the state of society for generations. In the past, that gave rise to protest movements and rebellious music. Today, the security apparatus can at least examine whether there's a case for its files hiding somewhere in those sentiments.

The history of these government suspicions goes back a long way. Under FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, Martin Luther King Jr. was subjected to surveillance. John Lennon also ended up in the agency's sights. Actual acts of violence, such as the 1954 attack on the Capitol by Puerto Rican nationalists, existed alongside the persecution of political voices that had committed no crimes whatsoever. Since September 11, 2001, preventive counterterrorism has expanded even further. The security apparatus hunts for threats before they materialize. A convenient line of work, since the future has a hard time defending itself against an accusation.

Under Donald Trump, this political security machinery is increasingly targeting immigrants and people protesting the war in Gaza. So-called Antifa supporters and Somali Americans are also coming under suspicion. Even views labeled anti-Christian or anti-capitalist are being discussed in the context of government threat assessments. The labeling of Luigi Mangione, Alex Pretti, and Renee Good as terrorists shows just how far the political use of that word can now reach. Such accusations deserve close scrutiny, precisely because their consequences extend far beyond public name-calling.

The FBI officially maintains that it does not investigate peaceful protests or constitutionally protected speech solely because of their content. At the same time, a reference guide is circulating that describes worldviews as potential indicators of dangerous developments. There's a contradiction here that no official disclaimer can erase. The line between political belief and criminal suspicion must be drawn where concrete evidence of possible violence begins. Otherwise, surveillance gains a freedom that citizens increasingly lose.

Americans made their dissatisfaction with the country's political conditions clear in the midterm elections. Whether the new Congress will impose tighter restrictions on the security agencies remains to be seen. Meanwhile, Minnesota has come up with a new name for the fear of a devastated future. Perhaps the people responsible should occasionally ask themselves why so many people have reason to despair in the first place. That investigation, however, would be considerably more uncomfortable than producing the next reference guide.