The toothbrush analogy still treats this like a question of personal trust. The real problem is that digital ID systems don’t rely on coercion. They rely on ple

The toothbrush analogy still treats this like a question of personal trust. The real problem is that digital ID systems don’t rely on coercion. They rely on pleasure. Huxley saw this coming: people end up liking the structure that controls them, because it rewards compliant behaviour. That’s the danger here. Not some cartoon dystopia on day one, but a system that trains people to associate state and corporate approval with comfort. - You behaved correctly, here’s smoother access to services. - You kept your “risk score” low, enjoy a discount. - You shared more data, here’s a fast-track queue or a tax perk. It’s not a boot on the neck. It’s a pat on the head. And the public will flock to it, because it’s painless and convenient. Until it isn’t. These systems don’t reset when the government changes. They persist. The next administration can inherit a ready-made apparatus for mass categorisation, movement tracking, sanctions and exclusion. A list of “people who said X, lived at Y, travelled to Z” becomes a single query. That’s why the UK context matters. The British state already leaks data, already sells access, already outsources core functions to corporations with zero accountability. Give them a unified identity spine and they won’t need to push you into a dystopia. People will march into it smiling, because it’ll start with freebies and frictionless services. The risk isn’t today’s government. It’s the one after, or the one after that, inheriting a machine built for total visibility. That’s the part everyone pretending this is just “a matter of trust” refuses to acknowledge.