Despair over the condition of the world? Fight back.
In times like this, cynicism, though entirely justified, is a pitiful, ultimately selfish retreat. Cynicism cures nothing, convinces no one, and in the end does not even offer to comfort acolyte
Redwing Ranch, April 4, 2022
Seven of us were riding home after a long day of fun and sightseeing and I got the backseat in the minivan sitting between two adorable seven year olds filled with life and joy and intelligence and everything they should need for a bright future. They fell asleep, one under my left arm and the other beneath my right, as we rolled through the northern Sierra foothills.
Only later that afternoon did I learn of the downtown Sacramento massacre. Turning the page from that brought news of escalating horrors in Ukraine, stories, photos and videos grimly chronicling the butchery of retreating Russian troops. My flickering hope for the future of mankind, already severely diminished, evaporated.
The horrors are abundant and apparent, yet the dead bodies of Sacramento and Central Europe are not the chief foundation of the despair that now enfolds me. That comes from feeling umpotent.
There is no antidote for the cynicism born of this much evidence. Not even violence offers a remedy, much less reasoned debate. Where can a person turn? Suicide is no answer, merely an escape. Violence? Perhaps there is some catharsis there, but no solution. The inevitable conclusion seems one of hopelessness.
Cold Warriors in my youth fantasized about "making the rubble dance at the Kremlin," and such thoughts crossed my mind today. (The notion that threat and evil emanated from Moscow was so entrenched that I first wrote of Ukraine massacres by "retreating Soviet troops.")
But that is simply vengeance, not relief -- surely not renewal. Thus opens another avenue to hopelessness.
After our blood-drenched Civil War, Americans responded to the failure of our national ethos by imagining and embracing new philosophical horizons, birthing the doctrines of American pragmatism. We paid titular homage to "the greatest good for the greatest number," but swiftly plunged instead into Manifest Destiny and avaricious, imperialist capitalism. A brutal authoritarian Communism arose in opposition; racist, nationalistic Fascism swelled to fill any gaps.
These are the forces contending for global dominance today. The species cannot survive them. All must be rejected, fought to a standstill and buried.
My parents were idealists who died too young to see their dreams eclipsed by today's brutal realities, leaving me with the aspirations today's painful reality contradicts. I personally have had much good fortune, a lifetime love affair, and the joy of good friends, but today my emotional purse is filled only with ashes, missing any sense of goodwill and hope for the future.
In a time like this, cynicism, though entirely justified, is just a pitiful, ultimately selfish retreat. Cynicism cures nothing, convinces no one, and in the end does not even offer to comfort its acolytes.
What refuge is there? Think big: Radical generosity, a new Peace Corps, global mass refusal of decent men and women to take up arms, the abandonment of private property as the prime objective in life. As I recently heard Keb Mo sing, "Put a woman in charge."
Perhaps the bright young spirits I've been blessed to spend time with this week will think of bolder, more effective solutions. Perhaps their lives and those of their cohort, can reshape even the questions.
I must do everything I can to help them.
Despair over the condition of the world? Fight back.
The hope is in those little girls.
Damn, Howard, I feel your pain. Also your hope.