Dignifying Loss
How do we dignify loss even if we do not wish to dignify the thing we are losing?
I've been thinking a lot about political polarisation and the now well-established sense of disdain that has cemented itself along party lines. This has obviously been ignited by my interest in American politics recently but the Australian elections this year didn't seem to be much of an exception to these thoughts. I'll spare the political details because it's dry at best and infuriating at worst but I do want to contextualise how I understand world politics with how I understand loss.
Before I focus on exclusively the bad stuff, some minor wins include:
Democrats greatly outperformed expectations during the American mid-term elections suggesting bipartisan outrage at the Roe v Wade outcome and the refusal to tolerate election-deniers.
Lula (left-wing climate change supporter) defeats Bolsonaro (right-wing election denier with the same populist beliefs as Donald Trump) in the Brazilian Presidential election
The Greens outperformed expectations at both the state and federal elections in Australia. Similarly, Labour party wins at both the state and national level see Dan Andrews remaining as Premier and Anthony Albanese take the Prime Ministership
But the general political tone of the world can be broadly summarised as global right-wing sweep. These movements include:
'Make America Great Again' and Donald Trump's presidency
Pre-migrant Britain (Brexit)
Golden age of Islam
Hindu Paradise
Glory Days of Russian Might that Putin is pursuing
Rise of fascism in Italy
(Not particularly modern but also Hitler's rise to power)
These movements all possess a sort of political nostalgia that yearns for a time that has seemingly passed. It's the acknowledgment that, for example, America was great and it is no longer, therefore we should "make America great again." Trump used his populist rhetoric to champion and give voice to those who felt misplaced, rejected, and alienated by the modern milieu characterised by what they saw as "wokism" and "weak lefties". It clearly worked because it started a global movement. To me, this sort of pessimism about the future and our current state is fundamentally conservative and reactionary; it is the type of position that tends towards deference, as it does the strong and powerful whilst simultaneously representing a kind-of surrender to the tragedies of our past. Steven Pinker goes even further and implores that we ought to be optimistic because violence is down and people are happier (I'm being very crude). Whilst I certainly would not go that far, it's undoubtedly true that the lives of a lot of people, particularly minorities, are better now than they have ever been.
When my parents were younger, they felt often optimistic about the future even in times of political turmoil. Everyone was pretty much guaranteed to live a better and healthier life than that of their parents. Despite Pinker's optimism, for the first time in history, people may have a lower life expectancy than their parents, they are less able to afford housing, build wealth, and by most other metrics, are struggling a little more than the previous generation. Born out of such inevitably dire an outlook as well as a social climate that seems to evade comprehension, is a tendency to look towards the past for direction. It is entirely understandable that such a harsh reality can lend itself to the rise of such pessimistic, populist right-wing movements. However, it is precisely because such pessimism is nostalgic that it is even more deplorable. Because if we don't choose hope, we leave the world to those who pedal pessimism and that is not a better world to live in. (1)
I'm not trying to suggest that the sole reason for the rise of these movements is a bunch of boomers who won't stop lamenting about times past because real wars, tensions, economic crises, and suffering have all contributed to a social-cultural tightening. This is all the more paradoxical in the context of an increasingly liberal movement toward acceptance.
But that I want to do is to validate these feelings of rapid change, and cultural shift and unhappiness. I want to validate, most importantly, the feeling that the life you had when you were younger was a better one. As your woke liberal child will tell you, your feelings are fair and valid. The truth that hits much harder for older generations than younger ones is that change is accelerating. Humanity went from having no ability to fly overseas to facetiming our family in different countries very quickly and this is astounding. The internet, AI, cryptocurrency, nuclear war and GLOBALISATION - all in one lifetime!!!! This is all coupled with the fact that traditional ways of dealing with rapid change have been completely broken. Family networks are dispersed over distance and worsened by COVID, folk stories are lost or endlessly satirised and religion has defaulted into an in-out mechanism that is less concerned with faith than group dynamics. The world is secularised, rules and norms are flaunted with the blase attitude of the naive and identities are being displaced. It is becoming harder and harder to perform the self. All of this is true and ok.
So then this leads to the fundamental question that I still don't have a good answer for:
How do we dignify loss even if we do not wish to dignify the thing we are losing?
How do we acknowledge that things have changed with empathy and kindness without regression? I liken it to leaving an abusive relationship or the death of an estranged parent. Despite the toxic and painful partner or parent, the loss of the relationship or the life of the parent is still a painful experience. We want to dignify, accept and empathise with those experiencing the loss; but, that doesn't mean we have to celebrate, glorify or return to these people who have hurt us.
So we ought to acknowledge that this world is different and that that is scary. However, I know, with resounding certainty, that these right-wing populist movements calling for a return to historical greatness (aka a world that is always worse off for minorities in every way) is NOT the appropriate response to feelings of alienation in an increasingly globalised, fundamentally modernised, and densely urbanised world.
If we can create a world for those feeling the full force of the rapid world change that allows them to dignify their emotional losses (alienation, loneliness, and identity crises) WITHOUT dignifying the thing they are losing (a time of historical unrest, world wars, racism, sexism, and poverty), then we open the world up to a much more productive way forward.
I will not leave this world to leaders who pedal pessimism because a peaceful coexistence is a goal worth striving for.
(1) I should note that nostalgic pessimism is less prevalent amongst policy makers, cultural critics and academics (at least they certainly don't think they are nostalgic). It may be more accurately characterised as pessimistic realism which is always at risk of becoming an essentialising world view. Because of climate change and other deep institutional issues, this may be a more convincing position to take. I think this is quite a convincing argument that I more broadly prescribe to. However, in the specific context that I'm addressing, I wish to explore the cultural romanticism of the past.
