User Manual for a Broken Century – Why You Urgently Need the Democracy Repair Kit 2025

It begins the way so many collapses begin: with a quiet crack. A fracture in parliament, a loose bolt in the constitution, a splinter in the foundation of the rule of law. You can barely hear it - until the whole framework crashes down. And before you know it, you’re standing in the rubble of a democracy that was once thought to be unshakable. For this moment, IKEA offers the appropriate piece of furniture with its usual pragmatism: the Democracy Repair Kit. Price: $299.95. Included: a piece of wood, a bit of iron - and all the rage of an era. Assembly, the enclosed manual claims, is child’s play. Two people, one Allen wrench, and a firm will to redesign politics are enough. The purpose? Officially: repair. Unofficially: catharsis. Because what this sardonic Swedish satire really delivers is not furniture, but a mirror – for all those who haven’t yet covered the loss of participation, decency, and enlightenment with curtains of ignorance.
Der Aufbau, so sagt die beiliegende Anleitung, sei kinderleicht. Zwei Personen, ein Imbusschlüssel und der feste Wille zur politischen Neugestaltung genügen. Der Zweck? Offiziell: Reparatur. Inoffiziell: Katharsis. Denn was diese sardonische Satire aus Schweden wirklich liefert, ist kein Möbelstück, sondern ein Spiegel – für alle, die den Verlust von Mitbestimmung, Anstand und Aufklärung noch nicht mit Vorhängen aus Ignoranz bedeckt haben.

In a world where democratic institutions are being replaced by decrees, parliaments by platforms, and the separation of powers by violence, the question is no longer whether such a kit is necessary - but only when. The early bird saws its own beam. And those who order too late will receive only the shipping label of history. The "Democracy Repair Kit" comes just in time: In the US, a president changes judges like light bulbs, in Hungary the word "opposition" has long been removed from the vocabulary, and in France, one can no longer be sure whether the next president will take office with a fountain pen or a torch in hand. Democracy, it seems, has become a repair case – and those without tools become spectators of their own dispossession.

Of course, this is satire. Of course, no one seriously believes that a guillotine kit can solve political problems. But it is precisely in this exaggeration that the real pain lies: that a furniture company speaks more plainly than some elected officials. That a joke on an ad poster is more honest than the Sunday speeches about the constitution. That we laugh - because crying has long hollowed us out. So anyone who still believes in democracy, who feels ashamed of the silence of the majority and the screaming of the minority, of algorithmic marches and moral cowardice – should not buy this kit, but understand it. As a wake-up call. As a warning. As a bitter joke that works precisely because it points to alarmingly real screws that are already coming loose.

$299.95 – that’s cheap. The alternative? Priceless.