“We have met the enemy, and he is us.”
This line, from the comic strip, Pogo, by Walt Kelly, signaled the stark realization that we are responsible for the condition of the Earth. While it may be tempting to blame multinational corporations or “big government” for any damage, we accept it as the price we must pay for the goods we want. We tend to support politicians who help us get things faster and cheaper, regardless of future generations. We are the only species that can lay waste to huge tracts of land, spoiling not only the view, but the environment, for possibly centuries to come. We can’t expect to generate waste, deforest, over-fish, mine, or drill with no consequences.
I wrote this to make a larger point. The responsibility for making our country great ultimately rests with us, not those we elect to office. People who know a lot more than I do have already begun investing in green energy and better supply chains. They know that more efficient production and transportation are crucial. And it is prudent to protect public health and safety, no matter who lives in the White House. When we act like these are ideological or partisan issues, we become our own enemy. But we can choose not to participate in things we know are wrong. We can also choose to participate in things that build and not destroy.
On the morning of November 6, I realized practically everything I had been told about being a good person was considered wrong by at least half the country. I learned that the ability to attract attention, exaggerate one’s accomplishments, misrepresent others, and denigrate anyone who gets in your way might now be more important than trying to do the right thing. For a moment, I thought about giving up my ideals and acting like the winner so many people idolized.
However, my mentors were strong. They taught me to admire people who get the job done without fanfare. No need to brag. “Your good work will speak for itself.” “The people in charge will notice and reward you.” “Ask good questions and offer good ideas.” “Be a person of good character.” So I was told when I was growing up.
That was before the internet. That was back when there was still a company picnic, and well before my time that company tried to keep people employed during the Great Depression. Even in the 1980’s, the college where I worked would lend us money at zero interest for emergency expenses or personal computers. Matching contributions to the retirement program were generous then. Maintenance staff could earn overtime pay instead of comp time hours. In short, the college tried to live up to being the “family” it claimed to be.
As time has passed, life has become less familial and more transactional. The trouble is, becoming more transactional is like crossing a burning bridge. It takes a lot of effort to go back, if that’s even possible. Clicks and reviews have become the price of being influential. Loyalty can bring big rewards. Hard work may or may not be rewarded; more likely not, if someone else can claim credit for it. And every day, good people are laid off just to make the quarterly report look better.
I shouldn’t get started on the importance of thought. Apparently, many of my fellow Americans can’t read above a sixth-grade level, and most don’t like to read. No wonder simple slogans and talking points take hold. Like the thorns in the Parable of the Sower, these pre-digested bits of information choke out deeper reflection. I tried to teach my students to ask, “what are they not telling us?” But we all tend to accept claims at face value whenever they confirm our biases. Enough said.
We all want to “corner the market” on truth. Maybe that’s the problem. The truth never was and never will be decided by the market. Just because most people buy a product doesn’t mean it’s good. And just because most people vote for a certain candidate doesn’t mean he’s right. It just means he’s popular. His ability to transact support – to get attention, to say and do things that keep people engaged with his version of the story – may be unparalleled. Yet, this doesn’t necessarily mean he can do the job.
Like Esau, we can trade our birthright for a bowl of stew. While the transaction may be temporarily satisfying, in the long run what will we have? If everything comes down to making a deal, what will happen to the old virtues – prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude? Will we all just do things for prestige, money, and power? To become rich and famous and therefore able to say and do anything we want to anyone we want?
Good news. It’s not about how other people vote or what they believe. It’s about how we choose to live. I’m encouraged by a poem popularized by Mother Teresa. It was written by Dr. Kent M. Keith as “The Paradoxical Commandments.”
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
