I thought I was acting independently when I decided I could stop drinking for a month. Sure, I was aware there were organizations and health experts that supported the idea. Sure, I had read about a dry January as a resolution. But still, I was proud of myself.
I was even prouder when I got to February and decided I would adopt, if not complete abstinence, then at least a plan for a substantial reduction in alcoholic intake. It was no news to me that alcohol affects a person’s liver. It wasn’t any news, either, that my intake of alcohol over many years might endanger my plans for future decades. Still, I felt I was making a strong personal statement. What was that saying by Helen Reddy? “I am man, hear me roar…” Maybe I don’t have that quite right, but you get the idea.
My pinnacle of proudness was reached when I decided that in the absence of alcohol, I could still get a desired bump into inebriation by using cannabis (in college we called it marijuana—I assume the drug lords hired a PR firm at some point).
In each instance, I read soon after my bold, robust, courageous decisions that I was not acting alone. Indeed, I was acting in company with millions upon millions of other citizens who were making the same decisions. It was a sobering discovery (pardon the pun).
My experience over the past couple of months is a demonstration of something we all know, but do not necessarily acknowledge: we have a lot in common with our fellow citizens. There is much focus on our differences in the press, some of which involve geography (where we grew up), education (high school or college, which college), income, race (or caste, as Isabel Wilkerson writes in her recent book), or the car we drive. We have much more in common, though, than we admit.
Some of our perception grows out of our ongoing belief in America’s western traditions: independence, willingness to fight (Keanu and John Wick), and just plain orneriness (think John Wayne). Gary Cooper didn’t take a poll to decide whether to stand up to the bad guys. He did what was right, even though he had to stand alone! Forget the reality that we live in a mass society dominated by gigantic businesses, that is trending to even more opaque control through technology. Just try, I challenge you, to comprehend artificial intelligence.
Our illusion of independence is encouraged by our political system. The United States Department of State puts it like this:
Americans value independence and self-determination, placing importance on the role of the individual in shaping his or her own identity and destiny through one’s choices, abilities, and efforts. Independence fosters one’s ability to be self-reliant and self-sufficient, to be able to do what is necessary to create a fulfilling life for oneself and one’s family. (www.state.gov/answering difficult questions)
The words and actions of our elected leaders are at the heart of this conundrum: that we believe so strongly that we are independent, but that our lives are so dominated by corporate control and mass behavior.
I am not suggesting that having an opinion is not important. It is. And even more so, I am not suggesting that voting is not critical. It is.
Indeed, my actions with regard to the intake of alcohol in January, February, and perhaps beyond, is a clear sign that my individual actions are even more important than I thought. Perhaps we could paraphrase Ms. Reddy once again: “I am voter, hear me roar!”
This all makes sense if you accept that those seeking election into positions of authority are listening. We see them talking, talking, talking, but they are listening all the while. To what? To the drumbeat of the people, to the hoi polloi, because that is what, in the end, gives them access to office and power.
One of the reasons for not voting that I’ve heard most often over the course of my life is “my vote won’t count.” The election might be local, state, or federal, but it is understandable that someone would count to one (their vote) and see it as inconsequential when the election winner receives tens of thousands, or millions, of votes.
What this person, and prospective voter, fails to see is that each of us is part of a macrocosm, a group, even though unorganized and amorphous. Are we a leader? No. Are we a follower? No. Are we important? Yes.
There are many who object to the slate of candidates running for President. It is tempting to look back at pictures of John F. Kennedy speaking in New York to a throng of young people hungering for change, demanding a new frontier, and think that this is what America wants. Or perhaps look even further back to Roosevelt’s new deal. “New” is cool, and has always held allure to Americans, just as “homestead” evokes a lonely piece of land far from neighbors.
The more likely reality is that we’re getting exactly what we think we want. There are many ways to characterize the positions of the two major parties, but let’s posit here that some want a continuation of careful policies that recognize the world’s dangers and need for communication; while some are tired of taking care of the world, and think that individual responsibility and independence should be the source of action.
In either case, much of America’s population is, apparently, satisfied with old. This isn’t surprising—much of America is old, or is rapidly becoming so. Much of voting America is also old. It is a telling statistic, reported by Axios, that only 5% of those watching the State of the Union speech were in the 18-34 age group, while 74% of the viewers were 55 or older.
Set aside a determination of who is responsible for this disparity, and the fact that young America is standing on the sidelines of our political system. Heck, they didn’t even attend the game. The fact is that the political system has generated candidates that respond to the current reality on the ground. If we wanted something new and shiny (perhaps Newsom or Britt) that is exactly what we would be getting.
I’ve accepted this. On the one hand, it is disheartening to think that my individual decisions are so consistent with millions of others that I am, in effect, being dragged along whether I like it or not. On the other hand, it is energizing to think that when I make my own individual decision I am experiencing, in real time, a major event, accompanied by millions of others.
All of this discussion of political dynamics overlooks, though, the importance of individual behavior and conscience. I can aspire to individual decision, exemplified by Henry David Thoreau’s move to Walden Pond in 1845, but I do not have to divorce myself from our society to that extent to achieve independence.
Our individual opinions and actions matter. Want to change the world? Change your mind. Change your actions. You might be surprised that you have more company than you think.