On Political Sobriety: Part III
I’m continuing my series, “On Political Sobriety.” You can read Part I in my Newsletter and Part II by following this link.
"I'm worried that with our nation so divided and election results potentially taking days or weeks to be finalized there is a risk of civil unrest."
~Mark Zuckerberg
During a break in our meeting—a liminal space generally reserved for small talk in business circles—the executive leaned in and said, “This has the potential to get ugly.” A rational woman, a business leader and thoughtful executive who’s leary of extreme rhetoric, she is not the sort to be swayed by media fear-mongering. She is a thinker, a vision caster, and her field of expertise is—in one sense or another—influencing markets. So, when these words came tumbling out as we discussed American politics, I sat up straight. And from there, the conversation devolved.
Coup (even if short-lived).
Secession (even if only attempted).
Revolution (even if only in pockets).
We discussed potentials previously thought possible only by the tinfoil-hat-wearing crowd. We found no resolution.
I’ve had more than a dozen conversations like this in the last two weeks with thoughtful, middle-of-the-road, freedom-loving Americans. The People (yes) are wearing their concern on their sleeves. Concern for the demagogues, the extremists, the broken media apparatus, the inmates who are running our two-party asylums. Concern for their families who’ve gone all-in on divisive ideologies. Concern for their businesses, their employees, their children. America—we’re beginning to boil over.
We’re in desperate need of a new imagination for American leadership. We’re not getting it from the major parties. We’re not getting it from the media (as if that’s the job of impartial journalism). We’re not getting it from the corporations who fund the status quo. And so, it must come back to the people, which is to say to you and me.
As we enter this season, commit to leading a non-violent, non-partisan, non-rhetorically-divisive resistance in your own community. Commit to gathering your neighbors, friends, and family into a more sober-minded, more unifying vision of America. How? Let’s revisit the way of political sobriety (third time’s the charm):
Turn from prayer for a political outcome and turn to prayer for something like familial healing;
Turn from monstrous language, from the sort of name-calling that leads to further division;
Pray for an understanding about how your neighbor could vote for a different political party than the one you prefer, and enter an honest dialogue about those decisions;
Impute best intent to your political opposite until you can no longer impute best intent;
When you can no longer impute best intent, address the evils of this political cycle (racism, abortion, etc.) with clear, fact-based language;
Refuse violence of any means (whether in speech or action), and if some action must be taken, prepare to act in peace.
As we enter what’s sure to be a tumultuous handful of weeks, consider how you can live politically sober in an age of ideological inebriation. Consider how you can lead those around you into a more peaceful resistance against the looming strife. Make it a way of life and invite others into it.
I want to hear from you.
What are you seeing in your own community? What kinds of political conversations are you hearing? How are you acting to lead others into a new political imagination? Email me and let me know.
DON’T GO JUST YET
If there’s one regret I have about The Book of Waking Up, it’s that I didn’t realize just how addicted we are to politics at the time of its writing. I suppose I understood it at a macro level, but this election cycle has exposed a much deeper addiction. If you haven’t picked up a copy, please do, and consider just how the framework of waking up applies to our political addictions. Then, chart a course for true political sobriety.
On Political Sobriety: Part II
We’re moving into the last week of a fraught season. Yesterday, I sent a newsletter to my Substack subscribers, in which I called for political sobriety as we draw to the close of the 2020 election. If you haven’t read the newsletter, follow this link.
In the last 48 hours, I’ve had a handful of conversations in which the person on the other side of the table invoked the very real concern that our country is headed into a season of violence. I cannot say whether this is melodrama or a legitimate possibility, but the fact my friends on both sides of the aisle are discussing it as a less than remote potential is, in a word, sobering.
Consider what’s in a word.
Sobering, adj., so·ber·ing | \ ˈsō-b(ə-)riŋ: Tending to make one thoughtful or sober.
Marx said, “Die Religion ... ist das Opium des Volkes,” often translated as “Religion is the opium of the masses.” Maybe Marx is right. Perhaps, though, in modern America, we’ve substituted identity groups, self-interest, ideological hate, and political opinion for religion. Put another way, what if we’re so drunk on politics that we cannot see past our need for our favorite fix.
I’ve learned a few things in my 43 cycles around the sun, and among them is this: Addictive behavior harms both the addict and their neighbor. And as we make our way to the rock bottom of our political addiction, I cannot help but think that harm is on the horizon.
I’m asking you to wake from your political addiction. How? Consider the steps I laid out yesterday:
Turn from prayer for a political outcome and turn to prayer for something like familial healing;
Turn from monstrous language, from the sort of name-calling that leads to further division;
Pray for an understanding about how your neighbor could vote for a different political party than the one you prefer, and enter an honest dialogue about those decisions;
Impute best intent to your political opposite until you can no longer impute best intent;
When you can no longer impute best intent, address the evils of this political cycle (racism, abortion, etc.) with clear, fact-based language;
Refuse violence of any means (whether in speech or action), and if some action must be taken, prepare to act in peace.
Use these steps to find something like sobriety. Then share them with a family member, community member, or friend. Together, forge a better, more sober way.
DON’T GO JUST YET
If there’s one regret I have about The Book of Waking Up, it’s that I didn’t realize just how addicted we are to politics at the time of its writing. I suppose I understood it at a macro level, but this election cycle has exposed a much deeper addiction. If you haven’t picked up a copy, please do, and consider just how the framework of waking up applies to our political addictions. Then, chart a course for true political sobriety.