I had a telephone conversation with a family member the other night, someone I haven’t connected with in a long time. We’ve always been on opposite sides of the political aisle, and although our past political conversations were often passionate, just as often, they were punctuated by laughter and gentle ribbing. We often ended our conversations by agreeing to disagree. Yet, during the past few years, we hadn’t found a successful way to talk with each other. But for me, hope springs eternal.
Unfortunately, hope seemed to fly out of the window the other night. What struck me most during the conversation was just how angry and fearful he seemed to be. There was his anger over his belief that “Ukraine is the most corrupt country in the world,” and as such, we shouldn’t be helping them beat back Russian aggression. There was his rage over his belief that President Biden and his family are corrupt, that they’ve bilked the U.S. out of millions of dollars. But his most passionate belief appeared to be over what he said were the record number of “illegals” coming into the U.S., facilitated by other countries “emptying out their prisons.” He railed against the current administration, whom he believes are giving these thieves and rapists cell phones and other hand-outs, all paid for with our hard-earned tax dollars. He fears that this will bankrupt our country and is worried about what that would mean for our collective future.
My family member is not stupid. But it doesn’t matter that with a quick Google search, these beliefs wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. Anger and fear don’t care about facts, a reality I’m still trying to wrap my head around.
A few days later, I read a brilliant column by Anand Giridharadas. In it, he described what he believes may be driving the anger and fear that so many men, including my family member, seem to be feeling these days: that change is scary. And this fear often leads to anger, especially when the fear, the most motivating of all the emotions, goes unacknowledged.
What we know is that while change is inevitable, it’s been especially swift and dramatic during these past few years. Technological advancements like AI. Social change like the legalization of gay marriage. Then there’s the Covid pandemic and the Black Lives Matter movement. War. The increasing gap between rich and poor, and the systemic dismantling of unions that has dramatically increased the size and scope of that gap. The election of our first Black president, first female vice president, and potentially, the election of our first female (and Black) president. The first assault in more than 200 years on our nation’s capitol in an effort to overturn a free and fair election.
Whew! Even if you applaud some of these changes, it’s been a lot, right? And for people—especially men, who’ve been in power since the dawn of time—who not only don’t applaud these changes, but instead, are appalled by them, I imagine that might lead to feelings of anger. And fear, especially of what comes next. And when major disinformation sources like Fox amplify these fears by creating more of them based on rumors, conspiracy theories and outright lies, things get even worse.
I hadn’t considered any of this during my conversation with my family member. Didn’t fully understand or appreciate where the anger and fear I heard in his voice might be coming from. Is it any wonder then that those passions might lead him and others like him to find safety and security in a guy who acts and talks tough? A guy who tells him, and other men who feel similarly, that they have every reason to be angry and afraid? And of course, that he’s the only one who can protect them, make the changes stop (or even reverse them, “make America great again”), simply by being a dictator, if only for a day?
But as tempting as that might be for some people to hold on to, we know it’s not true. We know that one person, even a dictator, can’t protect people from the inevitability of change. From a world moving in ways we don’t understand and that some don’t embrace. And even if that dictator could take steps to make us feel more protected—by locking up millions of people he deems unsafe, or refusing to support our allies, countries we count on just like they count on us—that so-called “protection” will be short-lived. And the consequences of that “protection” could be a price I think most people will be unwilling to pay. Kids separated from their families, millions of people awaiting deportation in cages? Again? Russia finishing off an under-funded Ukraine and continuing their empire-building ways by invading Poland, followed by the rest of Eastern Europe? And then, when China, Iran and North Korea join Russia, do they turn around and come after us? Journalists, elected officials, ordinary citizens arrested and jailed by our own military because they happen to disagree with the “dictator for a day?”
Anand calls for those of us who aren’t who aren’t frightened or angered by the change that’s coming, who embrace it and/or are helping to shepherd it in, to recognize and acknowledge those who don’t feel or believe similarly. He suggests these people need “to feel seen and heard and recognized in their stress and anxiety and sense of dislocation in the future that is coming. And they need to be invited into a contrary story of progress. Saving the country from tyranny needs to become aspirational for men. Not a lecture.”
It’s good advice. And honestly, for me, difficult to follow. The new and different vision I excitedly embrace for the future of our country and world is much more inclusive and equitable than our existing version. It’s a vision that demands—actually requires—change. I need to remind myself that not everyone understands or accepts the same vision I do, no matter how just or righteous I believe it to be. I need to—maybe all like-minded people need to—better share and communicate that vision of progress in a way that doesn’t preach or shame people into understanding it. So that one day, they may accept or even (dare I hope) welcome it.
I’ll carry Anand’s words with me on that journey forward, since he says it much better than I ever could. And I hope that others, encouraged by his wisdom, will join me along the way.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay.
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