Hope and Courage in Tough Times

Fresno Bee, October 13, 2024

In these tumultuous times, it is easy to become fearful and lose hope. Wars are spreading. Hurricanes and heat waves show that climate change is happening. The vitriol of the fall election season portends an ugly winter to come. People seem angry, grumpy and mean.

In dark times, it is tempting to abandon hope and retreat in fear to a bunker. But if we do that, things will surely get worse. When the world turns nasty, good people need to remain engaged, hopeful and courageous.

Hope alone is not sufficient. In a recent column in the LA Times, Anna Jane Joyner pointed out that hope is not a strategy for dealing with climate change — hope won’t reduce emissions or heal the atmosphere, nor will it bring back lives lost in wars and hurricanes. Joyner concluded her piece with a quote from climate scientist Kate Marvel: “We need courage, not hope, to face climate change.”

But rather than saying we need courage instead of hope, we should emphasize their interconnection. Courageous people hope that their bravery will pay off. And hope can help us discover the courage to struggle on.

This point is well known. In the 19th century, the British critic Matthew Arnold said: “Wise men everywhere know that we must keep up our courage and our hope.” And Martin Luther King, Jr. explained: “If you lose hope, you lose that vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of all.”

Without courage and other virtues, hope is feckless and naïve — it can imply a kind of passivity. An optimist who relies entirely on hope may do nothing to make the world better. Too much hope can undermine agency and responsible action.

But if an overabundance of hope is problematic, so, too, is hopelessness. Hopeless people also fail to work responsibly for the future. Gloomy pessimists mope about expecting things to fall apart. And since the pessimist does nothing to make things better, the world usually does end up worse.

Virtuous hope lies somewhere in the middle, occurring at the right time, and in the right amount. Some of this depends on the world. Virtuous hope should respond to the facts. False hope denies the facts. False hope can be dangerously disconnected from reality. But the same is true of false despair, which fails to see opportunities for change in the world of facts.

Rather than letting the facts be a drag on the spirit, virtuous and hopeful people imagine what is possible.

Virtues do not occur in isolation. Rather, they are part of a complex web of habits, attitudes and values. In an emergency you need courage, strength and quick wit in addition to hope. In life as a whole, you also need honesty, moderation, compassion, good humor and a sense of justice.

The virtuous duo of courage and hope are essential in business, sports and education. They are crucial for social movements and important for human health and well-being.

In his book, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” Viktor Frankl recounted how, after losing hope, his fellow concentration camp inmates fell sick and died. Frankl explained that “those who know how close the connection is between the state of mind of a man — his courage and hope, or lack of them — and the state of immunity of his body will understand that the sudden loss of hope and courage can have a deadly effect.”

Hope and courage don’t come easy in trying times. To develop them is a lifelong task. It helps to learn from role models like King and Frankl, and it to surround yourself with courageous and hopeful people. Remember that, ultimately, your virtue is up to you. The world is responsive to hopeful, courageous and creative energy. This does not mean that hope magically makes things better, but reality can be changed by intelligent and responsible people who apply their agency with courage and hope.

Retreating to the bunker won’t make things better. For things to improve, we must confront the facts courageously, and get to work creating the kind of world we hope for.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article293773979.html#storylink=cpy

Finding Hope Beyond the Political

Or Why We Need Philosophy, Religion, and Art

Political life is limited and ultimately unsatisfying.  When we focus on the external and horizontal dimension of political life, we are bound to be frustrated.  But there are other dimensions and sources of meaning, beyond the political.

The despair of the political

The world is unjust.  Good people often suffer in misery and obscurity.  And bad folks become rich and powerful.  The social and political world is messy and frustrating.  Our imagined ideals fail to become real.  And although progress can be made, there is backlash and unfulfilled expectations. 

We inherit a broken world that conflicts with our idealism.  The dream of justice runs aground on the shards of these fragments.  The more we want to repair these ruins, the more hopeless things appear.  We also disagree about who ruined this world, why it is broken, and how it ought to be fixed. 

This sense of grievance and longing explains why the passion of the political can become shrill, dogmatic, and polarizing.  Political intensity feeds off dissatisfaction.  And when these deep emotions are frustrated long enough, there is the risk of despair.  The passion of the political dwells in the thought that if these ruins cannot be repaired, all is lost. 

Clinging to hope

To fight the despair that haunts politics, political rhetoric is often infused with what Barack Obama called “the audacity of hope.”  The best and most inspiring political speech reminds us of an imagined future in which the ideal will be actualized.

Martin Luther King, Jr. provides a well-known example.  He was aware of the problem of political despair.  In response to the disappointments of the civil rights movement, King said, , “The only healthy answer lies in one’s honest recognition of disappointment even as he still clings to hope, one’s acceptance of finite disappointment even while clinging to infinite hope.”  And: “Our most fruitful course is to stand firm, move forward nonviolently, accept disappointments and cling to hope.”

King warned that disappointment in the face of injustice can lead to bitterness, self-pity, cynicism, nihilism, and other “poisons” of the soul.  His remedy was to “cling to hope.”  This phrase is interesting.  To cling is to hold on, to try to remain committed, even as the storm rages.

Thinking in more than one dimension

As a Christian, King found a source of hope beyond the storm.  King’s hope was oriented toward another dimension, a source of meaning that exists in a realm beyond the political.  This is what Rev. Jeremiah Wright (who inspired Obama’s idea of the audacity of hope) called “the vertical dimension.”

Politics is one dimensional.  It views the self and the other on a merely horizontal dimension, failing to take into account other dimensions of life and experience.   This is bound to be dissatisfying because human beings live in more than one dimension. 

The vertical dimension is often understood in religious terms, as an axis oriented toward the divine.  But secular folks can also discover an inner dimension connected with love, beauty, or other sources of meaning found in the human experience.  The most important of these non-political axes are called art, religion, and philosophy (borrowing a set of concepts from Hegel). 

Now there is a tendency among some thoroughly political (or politicized) folks to reduce art, religion, and philosophy to politics.  Marxists explain the “ideological” in terms of material and economic conditions.  Feminists and race-conscious theorists also sometimes interpret art, religion, and philosophy from a liberatory framework.  Conservatives do this as well, when they think that art, religion, and philosophy ought to support some preferred nationalistic ideal. 

But the wonder of art, religion, and philosophy is that they burst the bounds of any politicized and reductive account of human reality.  The artist, the mystic, and the sage exist in a different dimension, oriented toward values and ideas that are not reducible to questions of justice or power. 

The example of comedy and tragedy

This may sound abstract.  So let’s consider two familiar artforms: the comedic and the tragic.  Comedy can be political.  It can be used both to liberate and to oppress.  But sometimes the comedic reveals the absurdity of existence.  And laughter can be an end-in-itself. 

Tragedy can also be employed for political purposes: to tell a story about oppression or the “triumph of the will.”  But tragedy also transcends the political.  It makes us shudder to wonder about death, evil, pride, murder, and betrayal.  Sophocles has the chorus say in Antigone (line 332): There are terrors and wonders on earth, and none is more terrible or wonderful than we humans. 

When a comedic artist reveals absurdity, we are directed beyond the political dimension toward broader reflection on the human condition.  When we laugh, and play along, we are engaged in a world of imagination, on a dimension apart from the political. The same is true, when we are moved by tragedy to see the terror and the wonder of human existence.  This act of imagination gives us a glimpse of a dimension of experience that is beyond the political. 

This act of imagination can be a source of hope, repair, and reconciliation.  It can also renew the spirit and gives us the energy to return to our struggles with better perspective, and a clearer sense of self. 

Hope beyond politics

Now a critic may suggest that this experience of transcendence comes from a position of “privilege” that is conveniently able to ignore the challenges of political reality.  But the move beyond the political is not an excuse for political indifference.  We are political animals, as Aristotle said.  And we cannot simply ignore injustice and the struggles of political life. 

But we all possess the power of human imagination.  And we can all find consolation and hope when we open our minds to those other dimensions of human experience that transcend the political.

The crisis of hopelessness and the hope mindset

Fresno Bee, April 2, 2023

A recent report from the Centers for Disease Control indicates that 42% of high school students report persistent feelings of sadness and hopelessness. April is a month of hope. So let’s think carefully about this crisis of hopelessness.

Hope is essential for human agency. Creative, energetic people live in a space of imagination oriented toward future goods. The philosopher Gabriel Marcel linked hope to his idea of “man, the voyager.” Life is an adventure, driven by hope. Marcel says that hope is for the soul what breathing is for the body.

Hope sees life from a larger perspective that extends beyond the present. Hope is supported by communities that remind us of this larger sense of self. One practical solution is to look up and look around. The cramped and narrow world of small screens and instant gratification is destructive of hope. We are part of a larger process. We can each contribute in our own way to the development of that larger story.

It helps to know that hopefulness can be cultivated. Hopefulness is not merely an emotional state, beyond our control. Hopefulness is, rather, a virtue that controls our emotions. And we can learn to be hopeful.

It is possible to develop a “hopeful mindset” that is similar to “the growth mindset” popularized by psychologist Carol Dweck. Human beings are not born with fixed personalities, virtues and habits. Rather, we develop over time. And believing you can grow helps you grow.

A hopeful orientation motivates you to get actively involved in the adventure of life. The American philosopher William James gave practical advice in his short book, “Is Life Worth Living?” He said, “Be not afraid of life. Believe that life is worth living, and your belief will help create the fact.”

James illustrated this idea with a story. Imagine that you are climbing a mountain and must jump across a chasm. If you believe you can make the leap, you’ll be more likely to succeed. The hopeless person will give a half-hearted and timid effort, and “roll into the abyss.” The hopeful person will leap with all their being. There are no guarantees, of course. But without hope, you are more likely to fail.

In response, some religious folks will object that something is missing if we only talk about human power and creative energy. Without hope as a “theological virtue,” religious people worry that hope will be weak, fickle, and selfish. Others will object to the idea that we can “bootstrap” our way into hopefulness. The critics of bootstrapping claim that hope is insufficient in the face of a world that involves oppression, violence, and other social ills.

These kinds of criticism link hope to a religious revival or to a political revolution. But if you expect a revival or a revolution, you will likely be disappointed. The pragmatic idea is more modest. We evolve incrementally. Revolutions and revivals are rare and unpredictable. But human beings are always growing at the edges. Seeing life as a process of growth, as a journey and adventure, can help support the growth of hopefulness.

A key part of this process is to train your “hope muscle.” A hope journal can clarify what you hope for, and what you have achieved. It also helps to see role models of hopefulness. The journey of hope starts small. But over time hope grows. The example of the mountain climber comes to mind again. It is unrealistic to hope that you can leap over Mount Everest tomorrow. But you can make smaller gains and test your bootstraps until you really learn how to fly.

Another practical suggestion is to develop other virtues associated with hope. These virtues include courage, persistence and resourcefulness. We might also add gratitude and compassion. Hopefulness grows from tenacious and courageous activity. It also emerges from a sense of self that is enlarged by love.

We are not born knowing how to hope. We learn to be hopeful with support and education. We can help the hopeless by reminding them that hopelessness is not a fixed anchor. We can develop hope. And we can orient ourselves toward a future that is, in part, our own creation.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article273804330.html#storylink=cpy

Living In the Shadow of Doomsday

Fresno Bee, September 11, 2022

Down in Antarctica, a massive glacier is rapidly melting. The media have dubbed this 80-mile-wide ice sheet “the doomsday glacier.” Reporters warn that when the glacier collapses, it could raise global sea level by 2 feet. The collapse could happen as soon as 2031.

We are a long way from Antarctica. But it’s easy to picture the ice melting during our roasting September heat wave. My car thermometer hit 117 the other day.

It does seem like our “house is on fire,” as Greta Thunberg put it in a speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland a couple of years ago. Thunberg said, “I want you to panic.” She continued, “And then I want you to act. I want you to act as you would in a crisis. I want you to act as if our house is on fire. Because it is.”

When speaking to the elites at Davos it might help to ring the alarm bells loudly. Our leaders are currently throwing a few buckets of water at an advancing wildfire. They need some political heat to get them moving.

But what about the rest of us? Should we panic? Eco-anxiety is a serious problem, as I discussed in a previous column. Nihilism and despair are as deadly as the rising heat. If doomsday really is right around the corner, we might be inclined to crank up the AC, pull down the blinds and abandon hope.

Doomsday is pretty depressing, after all. But let’s think critically about our language for a moment. Words like “doomsday” cause panic and despair. Two feet of sea level rise is bad. But the world won’t end. Media literacy can help prevent overreaction. Doomsday is just a word. It was chosen by the headline writers to capture your attention.

It also helps to recall that human beings are adaptable and inventive. We likely won’t prevent climate change from re-shaping civilization. But human beings change and adapt. The history of civilization is a story of our adaptability and inventiveness. The future won’t be easy. And there will be pain. But it’s better to embrace the inevitability of change than to hide in the closet.

We had some practice in dealing with radical change during the COVID-19 pandemic. Things fell apart for a time. Remember the fear? The uncertainty? The toilet paper shortages? But we adapted. The response wasn’t perfect. Many people died. Political life became polarized. And we’re still recovering. But here we are. Life goes on. It’s different today than it was a few years ago. But each dawn is different.

We need to develop a kind of Stoic resolve, leavened with creativity, humor, love, and joy. One of my mentors, the philosopher John Lachs, described this as “Stoic pragmatism.” He encourages us to confront tragedy with “equanimity born of joy.”

We need endurance and acceptance but also good humor and energy. When things get rough, as they always do, it helps to smile into the pain. Shake off the suffering and keep going. That’s what marathon runners do. It’s what inventors, entrepreneurs, and artists do when they hit a roadblock. Make a joke, suck it up, and get back to work.

We have strayed pretty far from the doomsday glacier. But the end is never really far away. On any given day, millions of people experience their own private doomsdays. Loss is inevitable. Everyone you know and love eventually ends up dead. And no civilization lasts forever.

In admitting our mortality, there is the risk of despair. But it is better to look into the abyss with open eyes than to live in denial. And once you accept the inevitable, you can discover acceptance and even joy. John Lachs put it this way in a book he wrote about death and dying: “Of course we die, but why should that spoil breakfast?”

That cheerful nugget of wisdom is helpful. This doesn’t mean that we should just smile and wave without taking action. The house is on fire. There’s work to be done. And we’re going to have to adapt. But freaking out doesn’t help. When doomsday arrives, it’s better to greet it with creative good humor than with anxiety and despair.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article265519076.html#storylink=cpy

Covid Karma: The Mask Debate Evolves

Fresno Bee, July 25, 2021

Masks are back, along with protests against them. Fresno County public health officials recommend that everyone wear masks again in public. This includes kids in schools, which prompted parents in Clovis to protest the need for kids to wear masks.

The resurgence of COVID is the vexing result of vaccine skepticism. Experts have explained that this is now a pandemic of the unvaccinated. This is frustrating for vaccinated people. We hoped the vaccine would get us back to normal. But that only works if everyone gets vaccinated.

Unvaccinated people are still supposed to wear masks. But anti-vaxxers are also likely to be anti-maskers. Unvaccinated and unmasked people are at risk. And it is through them that the virus spreads and mutates.

Political polarization is part of the problem. A report from the Kaiser Family Foundation shows that Republicans are less likely to get vaccinated than Democrats. But not every vaccine-skeptic is Republican. And some Republicans believe in vaccines and masks. Ignorance, fear, and selfishness are non-partisan problems.

Vaccine skepticism is more complicated than political ideology. Some religious people refuse vaccines on dogmatic grounds. Some people are allergic or have other health conditions that rule out vaccination. And vaccinations for children remain problematic.

This subtlety is ignored when people start casting blame upon the unmasked and unvaccinated. Some go so far as to invoke a kind of karmic comeuppance for the unvaccinated. I have heard more than one person say something like, “Well, it’s those unvaccinated folks own fault. They deserve what they get. I hope they hurry up and die so we can get back to normal.”

The people who say this usually say it with a wink and a whisper. They take it back quickly, claiming it is a joke or that they don’t really mean it. But it’s an awful thing to say.

This cringe-worthy blame game is a symptom of a profound social malfunction. The anti-vaxxers don’t trust the public health system. The pro-vaxxers don’t have any sympathy for the anti-vaxxers. As the pandemic continues, anger and exasperation are more common than kindness and compassion.

This dysfunction is similar to other rips in our unraveling social fabric.

Productive social life requires thick webs of cooperation. In a well-functioning society, cooperation is contagious. Successful cooperation makes people more cooperative. Cooperators are rewarded. As we share the goods of social life, we become even more cooperative.

But when cooperation breaks down, there is a vicious cycle fueled by distrust and animosity. This has been described by psychologists and philosophers in terms of “the prisoner’s dilemma” and “the tragedy of the commons.” The basic problem is that when we fail to cooperate, we end up with worse outcomes.

This helps explain a number of political and moral problems. Consider climate change. If other people are consuming mass quantities of fossil fuels, why should I cut back? As the climate heats up and the other guy is guzzling gas, I may lose the motivation to regulate my own consumption.

Or consider the controversy about the integrity of the 2020 election. If the other party is stealing elections or undermining confidence in democratic elections, then why should I cooperate? When trust erodes, democracy collapses.

Similar worries hold for COVID restrictions. Those who cooperated for the past year did so with the expectation that if everyone cooperated, things would get better. But the non-cooperators have undermined that hope.

This is a dangerous moment. We risk losing the buy-in of the folks who cooperated in the first place. Their virtuous behavior has not been rewarded. So, the motivation to cooperate fades.

One solution to this problem is moral. If the minor inconvenience of covering my mouth in public can save people’s lives, then I should mask up. Blame and karma ought to play no part in this moral calculation.

But moral concern is not the only thing that motivates us. Our emotions are also involved. That’s why we also need inspiration and hope. More people need to be inspired to get vaccinated. Those who wear masks need to be praised for their virtue. And those who are vaccinated need to be reassured that their cooperation was not in vain