Capture The Flag

I’ve been pretty bearish on the United States over the past 10 years. Between the radicalization of our political institutions, expanding culture wars, the increasing wealth divide, a staggering number of mass shootings, and flagrant racism, sexism, and homophobia on full display, there has been a lot - and I mean A LOT - not to like about America. We’ve no shortage of complex problems looming and we are staring down the barrel of one of the most consequential elections in modern history, yet we seem to have lost the capacity to communicate with one another at all, let alone effectively or democratically. Our past is littered with issues and our future is far from certain. In the face of these concerns, though, this 4th of July I couldn’t help thinking that to not feel some sense of pride and gratitude on the day of our nation’s independence would be somewhat myopic, naive, and childish.

American Malaise

I never put much stock into the saying, “eyes are the window to the soul.” Rather, our eyes and ears together make up our attention inputs, and what we see and hear on a regular basis - i.e what we pay attention to - ultimately shapes who we are and what we believe. Epictetus once said, “You become what you give your attention to…If you yourself don’t choose what thoughts and images you expose yourself to, someone else will.” We live in an era of information - to say nothing of misinformation and disinformation - overload; between mass media outlets and the rise of Podcasts and digital media platforms like TikTok and Instagram’s Reels, which algorithmically elevate content they think will keep you engaged (and enragement = engagement), there’s no shortage of anti-America rabbit holes in which to descend. I’ve been painfully aware of both the dangers and the opportunity costs posed by social media platforms since well before Francis Haugen finally blew the whistle on Facebook in 2021, and so I’ve limited the amount of content I consume on platforms for nearly a decade. As such, I credit much of my American malaise to the increasingly popular oppressor-oppressed framework that has worked its way through many progressive communities, organizations, and institutions.

It’s no secret that a) our European ancestors displaced, often through violence, cruelty, and malice, the Native Americans who originally inhabited this country and b) that race-based slavery was embraced in America at the time of its founding, all of which resulted in unspeakably horrific and inhumane treatment of people of color. Consequently, despite the fact that slavery has been outlawed in the United States for over 150 years, there are understandably scars and even open wounds lingering in some cases amongst a large percentage of the American population. And it’s easy to see why. There’s a lot of evidence to support Winston Churchill’s perception of history, which states “our understanding of history isn't complete or objective, but tends to privilege the version of events of those in power.” I was born in Washington D.C., but I was raised in Oklahoma and have lived here almost all of my life; before it was known as the Tulsa Race Massacre it was called the Tulsa Race Riots, and before that it simply was not known at all to the vast majority of Oklahomans. Despite taking numerous courses in both American and Oklahoma history throughout middle school, high school, and college, not once did this stain of an incident manifest itself in either a text book or a lesson plan. Gee, I wonder why? To the victor go the spoils, and part of the spoils is shaping the narrative by controlling information.

The sandpile model states that a single grain of sand added to a pile that’s grown too tall can destabilize the pile and result in an avalanche. There have been any number of atrocities committed against minority groups throughout our nation’s history, and with the senseless and tragic murders of so many people of color leading up to the murder of George Floyd in 2020, it’s no wonder that such a flagrantly cruel act coalesced into a fever pitch of outrage and protest. That particular sandpile was destined to fall. To deny that racism (not to mention sexism, antisemitism, islamophobia, and homophobia) is still very much alive and well in this country is willful blindness. It’s a complex problem with no easy solution, so I would be remiss not to acknowledge the merit of the oppressor-oppressed framework because oppression is, regrettably, a material part of our history and, even more regrettably, our present.

Important as it is, though, this framework captures only part of the American experience, with the key word here being experience, and isn’t particularly helpful in terms of putting forth solutions to our varied and complex problems.

Which America?

I love F. Scott Fitzgerald’s saying, “the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.” It’s entirely possible, necessary even, to hold the tension and recognize both the horrific atrocities and the unbelievable progress our nation has experienced since the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, 1776. Nowhere else in the world are the characteristics of the entrepreneurial spirit and innovation championed more than in America. We have been at the forefront of modern medicine, commercial aviation, the combustion engine, space exploration, internet connectivity, the smartphone, the app economy, artificial intelligence, and compute to name just a few innovations, and all have had a net-positive impact on our society and lead to human flourishing and reduced suffering. The problem, here, is with the word “net,” and this is where the kind of binary, black and white thinking associated with mental models like the oppressor-oppressed framework causes things to go off the rails. It’s important to keep in mind that progress is inherently innovative - it requires risk and disruption and thus often doesn’t move in a straight line, so it tends to be a messy, iterative process, especially over the short term.

There are, I believe, MANY different American experiences and thus MANY different Americas. As a white, heterosexual male born into the upper-middle class in the mid 1980’s, my experience of America is unquestionably different from my friend Joseph (not his real name), who is a black, gay man and who grew up in the lower-middle class during the end of segregation. My experience has been one of privilege, opportunity, and expansion, whereas his has been one of hardship, oppression, and contraction. My America has been kind, gentle, and generous, whereas much of his has been cruel, tough, and rapacious. Yes, I have some talent and a tremendous work ethic, but it’s not lost on me that much of my success has been a function of sheer luck - luck to have been born when and where I was to parents who made tremendous sacrifices so that I would have every reasonable opportunity for success. Joseph and I live in two very different Americas.

Consequently, I find it both telling and ironic when my white, boomer neighbors in the suburbs of Oklahoma City express their longings for the “good old days” - the good old days for who? Those days certainly weren’t so good for Joseph.

Which America are we talking about?

Are my neighbors bad people? No (at least not until you leave trash cans out for more than 24hrs after pickup - then they turn into absolute lunatics, but i digress). What their longings expose, though, is their false assumption that their America is both singular and correct.

Life is a marathon, and the ugly, uncomfortable truth of it is that while some have the good fortune to start at mile 13 and are equipped with ON Running Shoes and the wind at their backs, others have the misfortune of beginning at the starting line saddled with concrete blocks and the wind in their faces. Until we collectively understand that there are myriad variables that mold and shape our unique experiences as Americans - some positive, some negative, and nearly all outside of our control - we will continue talking over and past one another.

More Tools, Please

It’s easy to confuse the absence of perfection with a lack of progress. It’s also more comfortable to exist in the brittle safety of absolutes than in the messy, complexity of nuance. Yes, there are still inequities and systems that oppress certain individuals in this country, but the reality is that the American experiment is, relatively speaking, still in its early stages, and over the past 250 years we’ve made undeniable and tremendous progress. Is there more to do? Of course! Have we stumbled and regressed in some areas? Unfortunately, yes. But as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once famously said, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice." It’s true that America has yet to live up to its promise of freedom and justice for ALL; yet, for all of our problems and despite some significant setbacks, America continues its relentless march forward in pursuit of its lofty ideals, and we are so much closer than we were 250 years ago. We can and should feel deep shame and regret about the dark parts of our past, but we should also celebrate our many and varied accomplishments. As the saying goes, when the only tool in the toolbox is a hammer, everything becomes a nail; cynicism, outrage, and binary thinking are all blunt instruments and they simply aren’t working - frankly, we need a better, more expansive set of tools.

Professor Scott Galloway closes his 3rd book, Post Corona, with the following:

America’s sins and failures are as historic as its virtues and successes. At its best, America exemplifies generosity, grit, innovation, and a willingness to sacrifice for one another and for future generations. When we lose sight of these, we wander into exploitation and crisis. All of our history, as well as our future, is OURS. Our commonwealth didn’t just happen, it was shaped. We chose this path - no trend is permanent and can’t be made worse or corrected. America isn’t ‘what it is’, but what we make it.

In addition to this being a helpful reframe, it also serves as an empowering call to action to the American disenchanted.

We can choose to do the hard work of capturing the flag and reclaiming our tarnished and exhausted spirit of patriotism from the fringes, which seem content with their hammers and are thus consumed by an unyielding torrent of cynicism, outrage, and binary thinking. We can recognize our privilege, whatever it may be, count our blessings, and embrace our agency over that which we have control to make positive, incremental changes on our society. We can leverage our many freedoms and good fortunes to expand prosperity and reduce human suffering. We can make sacrifices and demonstrate empathy, compassion, and kindness toward the marginalized, the oppressed, and the poor, because as JFK once said, “If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.” We can discover and embrace the ideals of a comity of man and begin to see one another not as democrat or republican, liberal or conservative, with a ethos of with us or against us, but as Americans.

This is the opportunity, and now is the time.

Do I sound hopelessly idealistic? Good - what could be more American?