Picture a frog in a pot of water. (It's a cliché analogy, but stick with me).

Now, imagine the water is cool, comfortable, and seemingly harmless. As the frog lounges, the heat is turned up ever so gradually. The temperature rises gradually, and the frog, unaware of the subtle change, adapts to the warmth until it's too late.

This well-known metaphor is not just about frogs and pots; it's a lens through which we can view the slow normalisation of abnormal situations in society.

In today's world, we are that frog, simmering in the pot of societal norms shifting around us, often unnoticed. There's an eerie parallel between the gradual temperature rise in the pot and the creeping acceptance of abnormal circumstances as the new normal.

Consider the phenomenon of information overload. The internet was a novelty two decades ago, and we marvelled at the wealth of information at our fingertips. Fast forward to today, and we are drowning in data. The constant barrage of news, updates, and opinions has become the norm. We've adapted to this overwhelming flood of information, scrolling through headlines like a frog adjusting to the rising temperature, not realising how it shapes our perception of reality.

Similarly, the slow erosion of privacy in the digital age mirrors the frog's gradual acclimation to the warming water. We willingly share personal details, habits, and even our locations online. Surveillance cameras watch our every move, and smart devices listen to our conversations. The line between public and private has blurred so gradually that we find ourselves swimming in a sea of surveillance without questioning the temperature of the water.

Political polarisation is another area where the frog analogy rings true. The temperature of ideological divides has steadily risen, with extreme views becoming more normalised. We find ourselves in an environment where echo chambers reinforce our beliefs, and dissenting opinions are met with hostility. The heat has been turned up so gradually that we might not even notice how the water has reached a boiling point, with civil discourse becoming a casualty of our collective adaptation to the new normal.

The normalisation of constant connectivity is perhaps the most palpable temperature rise in our societal pot. Smartphones, once a luxury, are now an extension of ourselves. We're always plugged in, always reachable. The expectation of immediate responses has become so ingrained that we forget there was a time when being unreachable was not a cause for concern. We've adapted to the constant buzz of notifications, becoming frogs in a pot where the water is now a simmering sea of perpetual connectivity.

If you are South African, you can easily imagine South Africa as our societal frog and Eskom's load shedding as the slowly rising temperature in its pot. (For those of you who are not South African, load shedding is a process whereby the national electricity supplier cuts electricity supply each day for a certain period according to a set schedule to limit supply so that it can meet demand).

The country has grappled with an energy crisis for years, and load shedding, once an emergency measure, has become a recurrent, almost expected, part of daily life. The analogy of the frog in the pot becomes particularly poignant when examining how South Africans have adapted to the abnormality of power outages.

In the beginning, load shedding was a shock to the system. It disrupted routines, led to economic losses, and sparked frustration among the populace. However, over time, as Eskom struggled to keep up with demand, load shedding became normalised. It was no longer a temporary inconvenience but a regular occurrence woven into the fabric of daily life.

This normalisation process parallels the frog's gradual adaptation to the warming water. South Africans adjusted their schedules, bought generators, and learned to live with the uncertainty of electricity supply. The initial shock faded, replaced by a resigned acceptance that load shedding is just part of the norm – the new normal.

Much like the frog's obliviousness to the subtle temperature rise, society's acceptance of load shedding as routine might close our eyes to the deeper issues at play.

Eskom's struggles with mismanagement, corruption, and outdated infrastructure have simmered beneath the surface. As the water temperature rose, so did the energy sector's challenges, but our collective adaptation might have muted the urgency for lasting solutions.

Moreover, the normalisation of load shedding carries economic consequences. While businesses adapt by investing in alternative power sources or adjusting operations, the long-term impact on productivity and growth is undeniable. In this scenario, the frog might not realise that the rising temperature is not just a momentary inconvenience but a symptom of systemic issues that demand comprehensive solutions.

Yet, the story of Eskom and load shedding is not one of resignation; it's a call to action. Realising the water is getting uncomfortably warm, the frog can jump out of the pot. Similarly, South Africans can demand accountability, transparency, and practical solutions from their leaders. Normalising load shedding should not dull the urgency for systemic changes within Eskom and the broader energy sector.

It's crucial for society to periodically reassess the temperature of the water, to question whether the abnormal has become so ingrained that we risk complacency. Eskom and load shedding serve as a stark reminder that adaptation to abnormal situations doesn't absolve us from the responsibility to address root causes and demand sustainable solutions.

Aside from South African load shedding, one can cite many other examples of normalisation, such as climate change and the normalisation of economic inequality. The narrative and potential consequences are similar.

However, this slow adaptation to abnormal situations isn't a condemnation of society but a call to awareness. It's a reminder to periodically check the temperature of the water we're in, to question the status quo, and to resist the silent creep of abnormal becoming normal. The frog in the pot has a choice, and so do we.

But breaking free from the normalisation of abnormal situations requires a collective awakening. It demands that we question, challenge, and resist the subtle shifts in societal norms that, over time, can lead us into dangerously hot waters.

So, let's be the frogs that notice the rising temperature, refuse to adapt silently, and jump out of the pot before the water reaches a boiling point.

Our awareness is the thermostat that can turn down the heat and pave the way for a society where the abnormal isn't allowed to masquerade as normal.

Until next time, I hope you make it out of the pot.

Dion Le Roux