Human nature is fairly simple, even primitive, and we are driven by just two basic concepts: we either like something or we don’t. That’s it — full stop, the end of the post. And yes, you might say: scientists, psychologists, analysts — all of them have tried to unravel the human brain, and now some girl in pajama pants claims to have undone it all with a single sentence. But if only it were that simple! Despite my well-grounded yet still unknown-to-humanity classification, there are millions of shades of gray, green, and crimson in the in-between zones, when “something” (a situation, an action, a dish) cannot be placed with one-hundred-percent certainty onto the main shelves labeled “like” or “dislike.” Then we invent reasons just to avoid saying directly, “I don’t like this,” or conversely, “I like this.” Thankfully, though, there are certain general norms that help classify almost anything into those two categories.
For instance, most of us like baby animals. Not necessarily kittens — that’s my personal love — but baby monkeys, giraffes, puppies, bear cubs, fox cubs, and so on. Fluffy, outwardly defenseless, a little clumsy and sweet little creatures most of us would happily cuddle before going to sleep. We want to look at them and set them as our phone wallpapers. In contrast, there are other things that usually evoke disgust, a sense of danger, a desire to look away — dead bodies, brutal murders, blood, organs exposed, Russian athletes in international sports, Soviet literature, a pig’s head in a butcher shop… That all seems clear, right? There is pleasant and there is unpleasant, and any deviation from this norm (for example, when someone finds fluffy creatures disgusting and entrails in the meat section a substitute for a plush toy) is immediately noticeable, raising questions and drawing attention.
But you have probably already read the title of this piece and guessed that this is not about fluffballs or corpses, but about something sporty, with rings like Audi’s and flags of different countries. Something international, open, and loud. Something Olympic and righteous. Or maybe not quite? What happened during the 2026 Olympic Games that made everyone want to close their eyes, turn away, and pretend that this “something” went unnoticed? A hint: it has to do with a helmet — or rather, with the images on it.
Skeleton racer Vladyslav Heraskevych was to compete in the 2026 Olympic Games under the blue-and-yellow flag. Undoubtedly, for every athlete this is a great honor, but it is also a wonderful opportunity to say something important to the whole world, to be heard and seen. So, taking advantage of the moment, Vladyslav prepared a special helmet featuring Ukrainian athletes who were killed because of the Russians — their bloody war, evil intentions, and hatred. Some of the athletes fought in the ranks of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, while others were killed in shelling, giving their souls to God. It seemed like a powerful way to remind the world of what is happening at home, to preserve the memory of those who are no longer with us — without dragging political squabbles into it.
However, it turned out that the IOC had become even more sensitive to any reminders of the real world — a world that pulls them out of their fairy tale of fairies, magicians, and Russian oil. As a result, the athlete was banned from using the helmet during competitions and official training sessions at the Olympics in Italy. Fellow athletes, Ukrainians, and even the President of Ukraine supported Heraskevych and his idea. Without delay, Ukraine’s parliament appealed to the International Olympic Committee regarding the incident. After lengthy negotiations, the Ukrainian athlete was offered an alternative — to wear a plain black armband or ribbon without personalization. In other words, they were effectively asking him to forget the names and faces of those who died in a bloody war because… because it is unpleasant? Not everyone in the world, however, has turned into a cold bureaucrat for whom human life is sand and death merely an inconvenient reminder of their own fragility. Ukrainian athlete Vladyslav Heraskevych refused the proposal and, as a result, lost the opportunity to compete in the 2026 Olympic Games. Yet at home, in Ukraine, he was welcomed as a hero and awarded the Order of Freedom “for selfless service to the Ukrainian people, civic courage, and patriotism in defending the ideals of freedom and democratic values.” Well then, not all that glitters under the rings in Italy is gold.
So what conclusions can we draw? Where did I go wrong in my classification? The “worlds,” the IOCs, the UNs, and similar institutions are willing to see each of us only when it is convenient or pleasant for them. Just imagine the doll-like image they prefer: a Ukrainian athlete who, despite what they call a four-year war — but which for us has actually been fourteen years of bloodshed — is ready to fight for gold, for titles, for medals, for applause from old men, creating for them a show, a spectacle, a sitcom. That is the pleasant picture. Unbroken, determined, strong, free, handsome! That is the image everyone likes. It evokes admiration, love, interest… It tells the world: “I succeeded because I want to. I am here because I never give up and pursue my goal despite every obstacle.” Isn’t that the eighth wonder of the world?
But heaven forbid that this hero remind anyone what war actually is and why it is happening. A helmet with portraits of fallen athletes — who could have complemented that positive, strong image with their presence, if not for… well, you know, that word starting with “W”? No, that’s too much. No one wants to see people who died because of something bad. You know — bullets to the heart, grenades to the stomach, collapsing apartment buildings, drone strikes, and so on. That’s unpleasant. It does not inspire awe; it frightens and unsettles. Why remind anyone of it? What will it change? Everyone knows that somewhere in that distant, God-forsaken Ukraine there is some kind of bad war that MAYBE Russia started. But that still needs to be proven, because who really knows? These are complicated times… It is hard to find the truth; everything feels modified and distorted. And if it somehow concerns us — small people beyond distant rivers and steppes — it becomes twice as uncomfortable. Of course it is sad that some athletes died, but we, the viewers, would rather see pink ponies and rainbows. Though not too many rainbows, of course — that might be called “gay propaganda.” Moderation in everything.
Yes, this is painful and somewhat passive sarcasm — a self-defense mechanism many millennials use — but how else can one look at this situation? Once again, the big-bellied officials were afraid to show the truth, even in its most delicate form. It is unpleasant for them to acknowledge what war is; they do not want to upset their fragile audience because then they might lose money — money, money, money. People are used to watching chicks, calves, and piglets, pretending to forget that they themselves slaughter them for a steak at dinner. It is the same here. They ignore what is truly happening. They are afraid of the harsh truth that the war in Ukraine is STILL ongoing, and that it is not taking abstract numbers of equipment or generalized “soldiers,” but real people and their lives, their achievements, professions, wishes, and preferences. It is indeed frightening — I understand. But closing one’s eyes and placing it into the “dislike” box is not a solution. The truth increasingly seems to be understood only by those who have encountered the real world rather than drowned in cotton candy in Neverland.
People are strange creatures, and as the band TIK once sang, “roots stick out of their brains.” They close their eyes to unpleasant truths and open the door to comforting lies that seep into the mind and paralyze it. Today we were not allowed to wear a helmet with photographs of the fallen. Tomorrow we may be asked to stop talking about pain and death. And then… then we will find ourselves in 1984, where honor and morality will weigh no more than poplar fluff. But at least we will be allowed to look at something pleasant, something that does not evoke disgust or fear, quietly shutting the box labeled “dislike” and placing it far away on the top shelf, where it will rest beside a larger locked chest labeled “truth.”
Author: Viktoriia Hridina
