Corporations like Exxon, Goldman Sachs, and UnitedHealth do profoundly deform our public discourse. Too often politicians follow their lead. But once we decide that we're powerless, our passivity becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, a habit of mind that's harder and harder to shake. We decide we can do nothing about key common issues, large or small. Then we withdraw from public life before giving it a serious shot. If enough of us withdraw, we hand power over to the greediest.
A "radical" political scientist once explained to me loftily, "We're fooling ourselves if we think government doesn't serve powerful economic interests." True enough, for the moment. But he framed this as inevitable, as if history were something that only happens to us, rather than something we can have a hand in making. He gave his students no vision to fight for--only only the prospect of joining him in the ranks of the all-knowing witnesses to human folly.
The political scientist also gave his students an all-purpose excuse for inaction and resignation. If nothing worthwhile can be done about the economy, climate change, global violence, or those suffering in our communities, then we bear no responsibility. Like the Kafka creature tunneling ever deeper in his story "The Burrow," we retreat into smaller and smaller spheres of private life, hoping the rest of the world will somehow muddle through.
Ironically, such resignation can happen in people who aren't personally cynical. We still try to be caring toward family and friends. We may even volunteer at a Big Brother/Big Sister program or help at a soup kitchen. And those are good things to do. But when we look at the larger issues, like global climate change, why so many people in America are hungry, or how to fix a greed-driven health care system or America's strip-mined economy, we throw up our hands in frustration. Taking them on just seems too daunting, and our chances of success too elusive. It seems wiser and more practical to narrow our horizons.
Cynical resignation salves the pain of unrealized hope. If we convince ourselves that little can change, we don't have to risk acting on our dreams. If we never fight for what we believe in and aspire to, we'll never be disappointed. We can challenge destructive or duplicitous leaders with contrary information and counter-examples, stories about how the powers that be have misled us. But what can possibly challenge an all-encompassing worldview that, in the guise of sophistication, promotes the bleakest possible perspective on the human condition--the notion that our world has become so irredeemably corrupt, that whatever we do, we cannot change this?
As an alternative to this impotent "realism," I'd like to propose a clear-eyed idealism, which recognizes that these are bad times but refuses to accept that the bad times are inevitable. I'm not promoting a culture of happy talk, nor will I in the Soul of a Citizen excerpts that follow. It's important to dissect institutional arrogance and greed, to assess how it damages lives, neighborhoods, communities, and the most basic life systems of the earth. It's critical to hold powerful institutions and individuals accountable, including political leaders like Obama who we may have worked for, voted for, and may still support in many ways. But too many social activists almost delight in rolling around in the bad news, like dogs in rancid fish. If that's all we do, we'll foster mostly resignation and despair. So along with the bad news, we need to convey that which is capable of inspiring hope.
It may always feel more than a little absurd to think that we might be able to change history. Especially when our efforts don't go as planned, it can be useful to recognize that fact--and appreciate the irony in our situation,. But that same sense of irony becomes dangerous when it justifies passivity. It becomes what poet and essayist Lewis Hyde calls "the voice of the trapped who have come to enjoy their cage." Accordingly, we might think of a modern cynic as someone who's given up all hope of finding a door, much less a key. As I'll be exploring, there are better ways to live.
Adapted from the wholly updated new edition of Soul of a Citizen: Living with Conviction in Challenging Times by Paul Rogat Loeb (St Martin's Press, publication date April 5, 2010, $16.99 paperback). With over 100,000 copies in print, Soul of a Citizen has become a classic guide to involvement in social change. Howard Zinn called it "wonderful"rich with specific experience." Alice Walker says, "The voices Loeb finds demonstrate that courage can be another name for love." Bill McKibbencalls it "a powerful inspiration to citizens acting for environmental sanity."
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