In these last one hundred days, I’ve wanted to say everything and I’ve wanted to say nothing. Each time the current administration does something new and evil, I want to weigh in, make a point, share my analysis. Yet, there is too much. “Flood the zone with shit,” one advisor suggested, and this is what they have done. The orange one has signed 142 Executive Orders since he took over, each one worse than the last. The zone of my awareness is so flooded with shit that I begin to lose my words, and I think: haven’t I said this all before? What is the point of more words in the face of such evil?
Of course, it is not simply this president nor the deluge of Executive Orders orchestrated by a coterie of henchmen for his signature, many of them contested in the courts, others simply so absurd they stretch the fabric of credulity. It is, rather, the Trumpism in the wake of this presidency, and the enduring, present-tense white supremacy that this administration forces us to confront. If I gaze too long into this abyss, all I can see is doom. This is a collective malaise in as much as we find it easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.
In thinking about this tendency toward doomerism in me and all around, I came across this concept “mean world syndrome.” It’s a type of cognitive bias in which people perceive the world to be more dangerous than it actually is. George Gerbner coined the term in the 1970s to describe what happened to people who were overexposed to violence-related content on television. Perhaps not surprisingly, Gerbner found that humans are not designed for watching non-stop violence. When we do, it causes increased fear, anxiety, pessimism, and a heightened state of alertness that is hard on our bodies. Of course, all these effects have been amplified and accelerated as screens have proliferated. Now, we have a constant stream of violence on multiple screens. And, reader, let me tell you…I have my own version of mean world syndrome, and it is a difficult mindset to reshape, but it’s possible.
Part of what has helped me shift this is to recognize that this is intentional. Doomerism (e.g., what’s the point?) and the resulting paralysis and inaction are part of what fascists rely on to stay in power. They “flood the zone with shit” so that all of us will be overwhelmed into paralysis and inaction.
I also remind myself that the individualism and isolation that are endemic to whiteness are doomerism. In my world, the attacks on higher education — professors disappeared, student protesters kidnapped, research defunded, quick capitulations to fascism from universities — have left me feeling particularly vulnerable. Even though I realize my white-ass is not on the top of any government list, at the same time, I also know that my whiteness will not protect me. At home, my spouse and I have come up with a list of numbers to call and a plan of action should I get picked up. I’ve canceled international travel plans to avoid encounters with the federal government. I arranged these contingencies mostly on my own, because who else would, I thought. Then, earlier this week, I attended a meeting of my labor union and learned there was all kinds of support there that I hadn’t realized. Frankly, it never even occurred to me to check for support because my first instinct is to individuate. Very ‘mean world syndrome,’ if you ask me, and it’s the opposite of the kind of collective-oriented, solidarity-building that we need right now. I’m working on it.
Mariame Kaba and Kelly Hayes are two important co-strugglers who continually help me reshape my approach to the current polycrisis. I rely on and look forward to Movement Memos, Kelly Hayes’s podcast from Truthout, to keep me engaged in collective thinking. Recent conversations with Dean Spade and Ejeris Dixon really bouyed my spirits. And, Mariame Kaba urges me to keep in mind that hope is a practice and a discipline, and that people are already in motion in thousands, perhaps millions, of ways that make a difference. For example, the TeslaTakedowns have driven sales to their lowest level in three years and forced the stock price sales down by 13% and profits down 71% since the beginning of the year. Both Kelly and Mariame remind me that in the midst of chaos like we’re experiencing there are real opportunities for creative thinking, new solutions, and reinvigorated activism that can improve all our lives.
So where do we go from here? How do we escape this doomerism?
We must find ways to enliven our imaginations about what is possible, collectively, and then build the power to make that a reality.
I love books and reading and libraries. There are lots of books I could recommend here, Ruha Benjamin’s Imagination: A Manifesto, Robin D.G. Kelly’s Freedom Dreams, Alex Khasnabish and Max Haiven’s The Radical Imagination, and of course, Let This Radicalize You, by Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba. Reading and gathering at libraries are paths to liberation. It’s why banned books and attacks on drag queen story hours are part of the fascist playbook. Teach a young person to read. Read a banned book with a reading group. Get involved at your local library.
We, who are not billionaires, need to find a path to solidarity because the billionaire-class has a thoroughly well-developed sense of their interests. The tech-broligarchy dudes are the real doomers. I’m not sure if you’ve heard but Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, David Sacks, Jeff Bezos and the rest have decided that this planet is not worth saving. It’s why they’re so fascinated with space travel, like the recent stunt with Katie Perry and Gayle King. And to be clear, there’s not enough room on those space ships for all of us. But we do not have to give in to their doomerism.
In a wonderfully hopeful piece, Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor document the eugenics behind this tech-broligarchy, what they call “end times fascism.” It’s a long read but worth your time to read the whole thing. Here, I’ll just quote the very end, where they write:
To have a hope of combating the end times fascists, … we will need to build an unruly open-hearted movement of the Earth-loving faithful: faithful to this planet, its people, its creatures and to the possibility of a livable future for us all. Faithful to here.
That’s what I’m doing, anyway. Staying here. Helping to build an unruly, open-hearted movement, faithful to people, to this planet. Faithful to here.