It's impossible to solve ideological problems without fully understanding the context in which they arise. To attempt a solution with incomplete information is a waste of time not only because the larger machinery won't allow it, but also because you're more than likely attempting to solve the problem from within that machine's own framework in the first place.

Take the example of the fan-base of any artist or author whose work has been effectively censored by gatekeepers within his industry. Likely apolitical consumers, the first response of such people will have been to attempt to prove to the world that the charges against their favored creator are lies. Quickly, they will have discovered that their message isn't allowed to exist on the platforms which they would choose to spread it on. Public forums censor them, and industry news sources circle the wagons around the aforementioned gatekeepers. This is the inevitable result of the first failure to recognize context: the assumption that the problem exists in an otherwise fair and honest vacuum.

The next natural step will have been for the activist (as at this point the issue has ceased to be a matter of fanboy-ism, and instead become dissatisfaction and anger with a deeper problem) to feel out the extent to which communications and media are dominated by the incestuous body to which he was unaware shortly prior. Typically, the reach of the machine has extended both vertically and horizontally into all (or nearly all) significant public spaces and taste-making institutions. If the activist had agreed with the general stated principles of the first gatekeepers he had come into contact with, he'll have come to the early conclusion that his enemies practice a corrupted form of the ideology that holds those values. He'll have argued that the insane and anti-factual claims that these enemy ideologues make are perversions of his principles, and that these perverse lies rely on the threat of social alienation and force in order to be maintained. This is the second failure to recognize context: he fails to reflect on his own values critically, as to ensure that none of his principles are as nonsensical and artificially programmed by previous iterations of his enemies.

If you believe that your enemies are practicing a perverse and abused version of your ideology, it be wise to take this opportunity to think about a few of your basic moral principles, and to compare them to those of your philosophical or political enemies. If your beliefs are evidence-based, what evidence do you have? Do you see any of the same referential problems in the literature or research that you've seen in the fabricated research of your enemies? Can you even find any evidence in the first place?

The third natural step is a total and radical shift in the activist's worldview. He no longer holds many (if any) of his original positions, and has begun to notice patterns that his conditioning had blinded him to. He now looks on his former activist compatriots with resentment, as he recognizes that their efforts are largely a waste of time and that even if it weren't, their success would only mean a slow march to the same result as that which they were trying to avoid. He may still use their findings for his own purposes, but ultimately shares nothing with them aside from a common enemy. If the overall current of dissent is a meteorite, they will be the outer surface which burns up in the atmosphere. He comes to understand that political organization functions entirely differently to how he and his peers had been raised to believe; it categorizes opposing interests according to groups and systems that both his enemies and peers had insisted were irrelevant, and taboo to discuss in polite company (this can refer to class, religion, or other group identifiers). This leads to the third and perhaps most dangerous blindness to context: all conflict is interpreted through conflicts of identity. This isn't to imply, as many stuck in the second blindness insist, that identity is truly irrelevant to any valid political or philosophical stance; while essential, there are still deeper systems upon which the machine exerts its power.

The one question deeper than the "who" question is the "why" question, and to confuse the two is to render any real victory impossible. Even more so than there exists a chasm between the naive reformer and the tribal dissident, there exists a chasm between the tribal dissident who makes his "who" his "why" and he who understands understands his "who" within the context of his "why". It's even a mistake to call it "his" why, and not "the" why. What he soon discovers, if he really pushes the issue, is that it's more often than not enough to simply state that there can and must be a "the" at all. Many will deny "the" altogether, substituting a naked "my". Others, while better, use an "our". The difference between phyletism (the conflation of philosophy with the nation) and relativism (the same, but with the self) is only the difference between "our" and "my", respectively. Relatively functional political and moral systems are only more viable under phyletism because "our" is closer to the scope of the universal "the" than the atomized relativist "my" is. "Our" and "my" have no answers for situations where the extinctions of "we" and "me" are inevitable. "It" (or He, to use the gender neutral context of the word) is eternal.