PODCAST:Jumping on the bandwagon
These are difficult times. Many of us, for many reasons, are angry, fed up or dispirited. As a result, we become marks for those who know how to exploit the human creature’s antagonistic impulse.
Frustrated human beings are easily drawn onto cliché-defined, fear-mongering bandwagons which, upon scrutiny, have no corrective depth. What we may not recognize, though, when we jump on a bandwagon is this: We are surrendering to anger and pessimism instead of taking up inventive creativity.
Though jumping on a bandwagon may provide a temporary feeling of solidarity, the irritability and frustration return because the bandwagon doesn’t deal with a crucial underlying issue. What’s this issue? The general discontents that accompany the civilizing process—rivalrous instincts that loom remarkably large when the times are tough.
Certainly, the anger, agitation and angst we feel are immediate and compelling, but their settlement awaits the inventive creativity of autonomy, not another bandwagon. Let me tell you what I mean.
We humans weren’t keen on living like savage beasts. We don’t miss the dirt, the dark, the cold, the danger. But we’re also not always too fond of the peaceful means to resolving differences in the modern world.
The comfort and convenience of a civilized life come with an emotional price—especially if our mental and material resources have already been stretched thin. The price? We are expected to get over our bred-in-the-bone antagonistic and rivalrous feelings, keep a civil tongue and settle, reconcile or tolerate the pain that accompanies social conflict.
But a whole lot of us won’t. And a whole lot of us actually CAN’T summon these resources. We haven’t yet acquired the substance or guts of autonomy that would address the displeasure and aggravation.
So, when it comes to dealing with the inevitable and ceaseless discontents that accompany the civilizing process, what’s the alternative to the angry bandwagon voice? The steady and steadfast autonomous voice.
The autonomous voice is a powerful one, requiring effort with persuasion, generosity, flexibility, give and take and, of course, creativity. It recognizes the assumptions, weaknesses and deadening protocols inherent in the prevailing conceptual reality, and it creates new space-shaping forms or reaches of expression and habitation. It believes that courageous acts inspired by this generous spirit are the solution to the crippling confines of inflamed rivalry and antagonism.
Even more poignant, perhaps, is this: We grow older feeling we’ve lived little lives when we don’t create a voice of our own, when we haven’t clearly sorted out what matters and spent ourselves accordingly. No bandwagon can do it for us.
Here’s an example of what I mean by the efficacy of the autonomous voice. We have goals and objectives like everyone does, and many of them require the cooperation of others. Since we don’t use cudgels or coercion or fear-mongering to get them to go along with us, we use persuasion. And we use it artfully.
We make use of persuasion to support and encourage, to suggest and influence, to foster responsibility and obligation, to make viable and compelling promises, to negotiate contracts and exchange equivalent value, to motivate with appeals to reason and heart and to communicate convincingly with partner, child, parent, neighbor, bank, associate, etc.
Our autonomous voice is not a submissive go-along-to-get-along voice. It handles our discontents and disagreements artfully. It engages truthfulness, candor and relevance; confidence and self-control; and it attends to vocabulary and narrative and to reconciliation and consolation. It is intelligent, privileged, and much is expected of it. It takes a stand. It bears witness. It gives notice.