There are two kinds of vice: the ordinary kind, and the modern kind.

The ordinary kind leaves an aftertaste. Shame. A dissonance that says: this is not who you claim to be. That feeling is not a flaw. It’s the last thread.

The modern kind cuts the thread. It doesn’t quit the vice. It quits the shame. Then it upgrades the vice into a value and calls that value strength.

Rudeness becomes “brutal honesty.” Flakiness becomes “free spirit.” Emotional laziness becomes “low-drama.” Cruelty becomes “high standards.” The behavior stays. Only the name changes. Same person, cleaner posture. Vice with better branding.

Someone who regrets his flaws still has a conscience. He still feels the sting. He can still be reached.

Someone who is proud of his flaws is finished. A sealed product. Shelf-ready. He has turned a defect into a banner.

You can correct a habit. You can argue with a mistake. But an identity doesn’t negotiate. It mobilizes. From that point on, criticism is heard as aggression and correction as disrespect. That’s why the “own it” gospel spreads. It’s cheaper than effort and faster than growth. It sells confidence without transformation.

And we cooperate, because pride doesn’t just look like strength. It looks like authority. We’re trained to yield to authority, even when it’s empty. Regret invites pressure. Pride blocks it. Pride tells the room: this is the deal. Take it or leave it. Most people take it.

So the slogan was never “fake it till you make it.” That was the polite version. The real one is simpler: take pride in faking it. Don’t change. Don’t learn. Declare yourself complete.

That’s the gentrification: vice renovated into a lifestyle, shame evicted as the only defect. But shame was never the defect. It was the restraint. It was the smoke alarm. Remove it, and the fire doesn’t stop. You just stop noticing it.