Essay by Martha Quillen
Modern Life – August 2007 – Colorado Central Magazine
PEOPLE ARE MAD, and they don’t want to take it any more. So they’re fighting in Afghanistan, Iraq and Darfur; saber-rattling in Iran, Korea and Pakistan; marching against Hugo Chavez in Venezuela; demanding justice in Indonesia; taking back the West Bank; and arguing about religion world-wide.
Feeling used, abused and angry is what a lot of people seem to have in common these days. You can hear it in the tirades of news personalities like Keith Olbermann and Nancy Grace, and in the plaints of Christian and Islamic fundamentalists. It’s also notable in the writings of Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins, those best-selling critics of religion and religiosity, and in the vitriol Americans lavish upon gay couples, illegal immigrants, the Bush administration, the Iraq War, et al.
Animosity, name-calling, and furious denunciations fuel modern political campaigns. Rage and vengeance spur on terrorists and insurgents.
If you want to know the extent of our discontent, you only need to check the shelves of your local library or bookstore. According to Louise Richardson, author of What Terrorists Want, terrorist groups come in a mind-boggling array of factions, and she lists dozens of them including Aum Shinrikyo, IRA, Tamil Tigers, Al-Jihad, and scads of red, separatist, and liberation forces. (But for really extensive lists of terrorist organizations, their stated objectives and suspected activities, check the Internet.)
In Terror in the Name of God, author Jessica Stern says, “Terrorist leaders tell young men that the reason they feel humiliated — personally or culturally — is that the international institutions like the IMF, the World Bank, and the United Nations are imposing capitalism and secular ideas on them with the aim of exterminating traditional values.”
Terrorists, however, don’t have a monopoly on feeling put-upon. In Battle for God, Karen Armstrong writes: “At the outset of their monumental six-volume Fundamentalist Project [which was actually finished with only five volumes in 2004], Martin E. Marty and R. Scott Appleby argue that the ‘fundamentalisms’ all follow a certain pattern. They are embattled forms of spirituality, which have emerged as a response to a perceived crisis. They are engaged in a conflict with enemies whose secularist policies and beliefs seem inimical….”
In recent years, several books that spurn all religious faith have made it onto the bestsellers lists. Anti-Islamic books keep coming out. And an anti-secular movement insists that tolerant Christians, humanists, and atheists are immoral and dangerous.
In Godless, nationally known pundit Anne Coulter claims that liberalism is a religion — a godless one. And Christian publishing houses often feature unbelievers as villains in romances and adventure novels, like the best-selling Left Behind books, which fold fundamentalist bias about who’s good and evil into the action.
IT WOULD BE REMISS, however, to imply that religious antagonism is the primary issue fueling modern dissatisfaction. People are likewise angry about war, genocide, environmental degradation, and a host of other threats.
Books lamenting the imminent ruin of our civilization and planet take many forms, including: Affluenza; An Inconvenient Truth; The Corporation: The Pathological Pursuit of Profit and Power; and hundreds of other titles. Current bestsellers include The Assault on Reason by Al Gore, God Is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens, and Where Have All the Leaders Gone? by Lee Iococca.
In The March of Unreason: Science, Democracy and the New Fundamentalism, Dick Taverne, a British barrister and Member of Parliament, doesn’t seem nearly as put out with modern society as many writers. But he certainly has issues with practically everyone living in it:
“Millions of born-again Christians,” Taverne writes, “believe in a primitive religion that features an interventionist God who, it seems, periodically answers prayers to help but is never the cause of harm. To cite one example that is not atypical: when interviewed after the hijack of an American plane, the pilot thanked God for answering his prayers and bringing him safely through his ordeal. It did not occur to him that God had also answered the prayers of the devout Muslim hijackers and helped them to seize the plane. I reflected, somewhat irreverently, that his God had much in common with the late Lord Mountbatten, of whom his naval colleagues said: “No one like Dickie Mountbatten to have with you in a tight spot. No one like Dickie to get you into one.”
Taverne goes on to blast environmentalists, homeopaths, herbalists, animal rights activists, capitalists and anti-capitalists, globalists and anti-globalists, and anybody else he perceives as twisting science and reason to serve their own cherished viewpoints, which pretty much means everyone. And Taverne’s exasperation isn’t rare. In recent years, everybody on the planet seems to be fretting about our modern world and its inhabitants.
In the July 9 Newsweek, Fareed Zakaria contends, “Britain, the United States and most other countries have not found it easy to address the root causes of jihad. But clearly, they relate to the alienation, humiliation and disempowerment caused by the pace of change in the modern world. . . .”
Although it’s not politically correct to say so, terrorists and jihadists sound a lot like us: upset, worried about the future, sure their rights are being violated, and convinced that other people’s crazy, immoral ideas are mucking up their world.
In What Terrorists Want, Louise Richardson writes: “Terrorists see the world in Manichean, black-and- white terms; they identify with others; and they desire revenge. They have a highly simplified view of the world in which good is pitted against evil and in which their adversaries are to blame for all their woes.”
SO THERE YOU HAVE IT: Terrorism is caused by alienation, humiliation, feeling put upon, and blaming others for your woes. But who among us hasn’t felt that way? And who’s to say we weren’t right?
As I see it, such feelings clearly inspire terrorism — and also revolution, war, murder, divorce, and road rage. When it come to terrorism, however, the more relevant consideration is that terrorists resort to armed insurrection with little regard for whether it will make things better or worse. In fact, some of the horrors perpetrated in recent years — Chechen rebels murdering schoolchildren, Iraqi insurgents attacking their own countrymen; genocide in the Sudan, Rwanda and Darfur — seem beyond imagination. Why do people do such things? What do they hope to accomplish?
Of course, some Americans have been asking the same questions about our involvement in Iraq. According to them, the Iraq War is an affront to humanity. Others, however, regard peace activism as unAmerican and an affront to our servicemen.
Whichever way you look at it, the war in Iraq is a momentous issue worthy of all the fury and anguish Americans expend on it. But other recent controversies have been a waste of passion and hostility. Who cares who fathered Anna Nicole’s baby? Or why Britney Spears shaved her head?
Is Rosie O’Donnell fat? Is Donald Trump a jerk? Is Simon Cowell mean to Paula Abdul? Does Bill O’Reilly really merit the title “Worst Person in the World”?
And why does someone like me, who’s addicted to news shows and magazines but doesn’t watch The View or American Idol, know all about Rosie and Simon? I suppose it’s simpler to report on people with publicists than to try to cover the Iraq War or the White House. But sometimes it seems like media personalities purposefully foment bogus commotions about celebrities just to have something to poke fun at. Half the news these days is celebrity gossip — and sometimes the announcer is the celebrity.
Last spring, Don Imus aimed a crass insult at the Rutgers women’s basketball team, and was fired for it. Whether Imus should have been fired, I leave up to you. But he was not arrested, tortured, or picked up by Homeland Security, so I thought his fans might boycott the station. Instead, however, hundreds of Americans wrote to newspapers all over the country claiming that Imus’s civil rights had been violated.
UNTIL THAT POINT, I’d had no idea I had a constitutional right to be on a talk show — and I’ve been wondering where I have to go to claim my right ever since.
Imus’s comments about the Rutgers team were baseless, but other recent controversies stand on firmer ground. Most of them, however, don’t seem to have any clear purpose. For example, some defenders of science and reason have gotten totally fed up with the religious strictures that dictate modern medical research. But instead of demonstrating the importance of stem-cell research or the dangers inherent in repressing it, these so-called rationalists lump fundamentalists, terrorists, Methodists, Muslims and mystics together with people who believe in alternative medicine, and designate them all as dangerously deluded and a threat to society.
Clearly we can’t censor all unproven beliefs. So what do the rationalists expect us to do about such concerns? If their objective is to convince people that medical research and science education are threatened by religious extremism, then they should hammer that topic. But even more importantly, they should build coalitions between scientists, atheists, and people of faith who oppose the Christian Right’s political agenda — rather than alienating and ridiculing half of the people who agree with them.
The success of conservative Christian politics doesn’t come from the vast numbers of fundamentalists in America (who were thought to be a modest minority of 12 to 22 % when the movement started). But Christian politicians seldom denigrate their supporters. Instead they focus on making their convictions the law of the land.
Scientists may know their medical research, but conservative Christians definitely understand politics better than scientists, liberals, or Democrats — because they know what legislation they want and make it clear to their supporters. Whereas the rest of us only seem to know what we dislike — and whom.
Recently, Jim Stiles, editor of the Canyon Country Zephyr in Moab, Utah, wrote a column castigating Arnold Schwarzenegger for supporting bio-diesel fuel; Al Gore for promoting greener technology; Wal-Mart for promising to carry greener products; and John Kerry for saying he’d “grow the economy” to finance his health care bill. Stiles insisted that Schwarzenegger, Gore, and Kerry should ask us to live with less. But let’s be serious, those super-rich jetsetters are in no position to ask me to live with less. And if they did, I’d be furious.
Stiles is one of my favorite writers — pithy, irreverent, and funny — but in this case his message is contradictory. Stiles is appalled that politicians so vigorously support American consumerism. But is that a viable argument against greener technology?
As for consumerism, I agree: Too many politicians champion greed, selfishness, and outrageous extravagance as if they were cultural assets. Yet some American lifestyles defy reason: Do dogs really need diamond accessories? Is it seemly for multi-millionaires to maintain multiple unused homes so big they could serve as public schools?
As I see it, our current economy works best to assure that those who labor for a living stay poor, while those who already have plenty, get more. But in the wake of warnings about peak oil, global warming, and our country’s dangerous dependence on foreign oil, isn’t it almost as appalling that Americans are driving around cities and suburbs in giant pickups and behemoth SUVs?
In all fairness, Gore, Kerry, Schwarzenegger and Wal-Mart do not necessarily advocate the same things. In fact, Stiles greatly oversimplifies the issues involved in order to make his point. And in doing so, he implies that we have to reject green technology in order to reduce our consumption. But is that true? Or could we usher in better technology while launching a Live Better With Less campaign?
And what about the side issues inherent in this case, such as what constitutes “green” in this discussion? Or how bio-diesel fuel compares to other innovations? Or whether lessening CO2 emissions should take precedence over other environmental concerns?
Clearly, terrorists aren’t the only people reducing matters to “black-and-white terms.” We all tend to react to issues as good or bad, liberal or conservative, moral or immoral. But such adversarial stances thwart negotiation and compromise, and thus inhibit action.
MODERN LIFE IS MADDENING — for good reason. We have mercury in our fish and melamine in our wheat gluten. Today, you’ve got to guard against contaminated food, insurance fraud, mortgage fraud, telemarketing fraud, identity theft, and being cheated out of your pension. At this point, it’s not wise to trust anyone.
For those of us who live in America’s hinterlands, life seems better. We don’t seem as hurried as other Americans. People here seldom seize the right-of-way in traffic, or cut in line, or snap at strangers. The land is gorgeous, and I think we’re healthier because of it. But life in rural America is no picnic. Wages here are lower, and people have fewer benefits, fewer health care options, fewer resources, and fewer alternatives. And to make matters worse, the government keeps cutting the rural service agents who are supposed to help us with taxes, Medicare, Social Security, pension plans and prescription drug plans.
So what are we supposed to do?
Well, I guess we’re supposed to resort to our democratic political system. But at this point, many Americans are so fed up with the way things are going that they don’t believe in it.
Eras of rage and conflict may be as natural and inevitable as the tides — fueled by rapid change, cataclysmic events, dwindling resources, evolving powers, increasing competition, shifting populations and economic disparities.
Yet even so, it’s scary to note that the pace of change is increasing, antagonism is thriving, and the weaponry available to countries, terrorists, and schoolchildren just keeps getting better and better.
So clearly we’ve got to get things moving in a better direction.
But at this point, modern life seems to have unhinged us — turning everybody into total hypocrites. Although we say we believe in liberty and justice for all, we keep clamoring about other people’s values, sins, religions, political persuasions, sexual peccadillos, spending habits, extravagance, and disregard for the environment as if we had a moral obligation to repress everyone and everything — without knowing anything whatsoever about them.
Face to face, most Americans seem fine, polite — even friendly. But politically we’re obsessed. We keep trying to use the full force of the world’s greatest superpower not merely to fix the war, environment, schools, health care system, Middle East, and points beyond, but to change the very nature and fabric of our citizens and our enemies.
Yet despite our continual bi-partisan efforts to improve the entire planet’s citizenry (once and for all and forever), we merely seem to be making people mad.
YOU WOULD THINK Americans would feel a little more optimistic about things today, considering how life used to be. Surely, quelling the ravages of polio, diphtheria, and smallpox should provide some consolation. But apparently it’s not enough. In fact, there appears to be a cesspool of hopelessness lurking under the hustling, bustling, multi-tasking surface that Americans present to the world. Our distress shows up in books, newspapers, late night conversations — and startling statements.
At a Christmas party a friend commented on how many of our acquaintances were having grandchildren. “Grandchildren are nice,” she said. “But it’s sort of sad that none of them will live as long as us.”
“What?” I said.
“Well, there just isn’t enough time left.” I guess I looked confused, so she added, “You know. For America. And the planet.”
And that appears to be a growing conviction. People envision various causes for our destruction: global warming, overpopulation, terrorism, war, corruption, decadence, excess, Armageddon, or a combination of factors. Regardless of the means, however, the pessimism is pervasive. People keep telling me that it doesn’t matter who wins the next election: No matter who wins, things will only get worse. Many environmentalists seem to have given up: “Why bother,” they contend, “it’s too late.” Some tele-preachers seem almost eager for the apocalypse, but also woefully certain of our damnation.
I TEND TO THINK this is a little like Victorian melancholy, and figure we’ll get over it. Thus, for a decade now, I’ve been expecting something to rouse us: a 1960s-style youth movement, a sudden enthusiasm for middle class mediocity (and moderation), or a jolt of Dylan Thomas defiance: “Do not go gently into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” But that hasn’t happened yet.
So, Americans keep worrying that the world is getting worse, then blame others, and taunt them — no doubt hoping that we can make them fix things (or at least leave us alone). But it’s a vicious cycle, taunts beget anger begets anger begets anger. Also, (presuming those experts on terrorism know anything), people who feel reviled are more likely to turn to hostile, inflexible support groups that preach hatred and incite violence.
So what can we do?
Well, we could focus more on fixing our problems than on fixing each other.
Or failing that, we can look on the bright side: The way things are going, we may not need to worry about reducing CO2 emissions — because surely the nuclear winter will overwhelm global warming with nary an effort on our part.
