Why aren’t Americans more outraged by all that’s happening?
If you care about the direction of this country and everything it stands for, there’s plenty to be angry about right now — so much so, in fact, that if I were to try to use this post to capture it all, I’d never get to the actual point of what I’m trying to say. So I won’t try.
Nonetheless, here are more than just a few examples…
The recent viral photo of a deceased migrant father and his infant daughter from El Salvador, found face down in the muddy waters of the Rio Grande in a tragic depiction of the humanitarian crisis going on along the southern U.S. border. Reports of deplorable conditions for children and families in border detention facilities, including children in cages and detainees allegedly being forced to drink out of toilet bowls. The exposé of a private Facebook group in which Border Patrol agents were mocking migrant deaths and sharing misogynistic and racist sentiments against Latina members of Congress who recently visited such facilities in Texas.
Meanwhile, on the world stage: Donald Trump — who just had yet another sexual assault allegation leveled against him that didn’t even make front-page headlines — is still making nice with a dictator and human rights violator, joining with him for a narcissistic photo op at the Demilitarized Zone. Speaking of narcissism: News that he’s co-opting the traditionally nonpartisan Fourth of July celebration in Washington, D.C., turning it into a banana-republic-style tribute for his pathological megalomania. Speaking of violating tradition and norms: His continued refusal to release his tax returns and whatever it is he’s hiding in them, in direct defiance of a congressional subpoena and the right of the people to know. Speaking of undermining the rule of law and democracy: Republican efforts to weaponize the 2020 U.S. Census to rig voting districts in their favor, despite a Supreme Court rebuke even as that same court green-lighted the undemocratic practice of partisan gerrymandering.
Should I go on? I absolutely could, but I don’t want to.
Where is the sustained outrage? Why aren’t there constant protests all over the country with each new abomination that comes to light? In short, why aren’t we doing more about all of this?
To be clear, when I say “we,” I’m not talking about those who are unfazed by these developments or inexplicably think it’s all okay. I’m talking about the millions of Americans who find all of it abhorrent and despicable and yet just go on living their lives — people like me.
I have several theories for this, but be warned: None of them are particularly inspiring or hopeful. I’m just trying to call it as I see it.
First, I do think we’re suffering from an acute case of outrage fatigue, and that includes the media. To be sure, this is no excuse for repeatedly giving a free pass to a renegade political party or its standard-bearer who is a pathological liar, malignant narcissist, and admitted sexual predator. But it’s as though America’s collective conscience — what’s left of it — has tacitly conceded that there is no such thing as “rock bottom” anymore because there will always be some new revelation even more outrageous than what has already come to light. Our energy and capacity for righteous indignation has been exhausted. Hell, can we even remember everything we’re supposed to be pissed off about anymore? I sure can’t. It’s way too much, too frequently, and to be blunt, I’m tired.
Second, I think we’re grappling with a sense of futility and powerlessness. Following the March terrorist attacks at two mosques in New Zealand, the world observed the speed and determination with which this small Pacific Rim country took tangible legislative action in the wake of these abominable acts. “Why can’t America be more like New Zealand?” I mused in a conversation with someone, who pointed out that citizens in a country of fewer than 5 million people still have the ability to make a difference with their voices, in stark contrast to the United States, where millions can contact their lawmakers or march en masse on the National Mall and not a damn thing ever changes, no matter how untenable our circumstances may be.
It’s an understandable, if unproductive perspective: Why bother with political organizing and activism when it’s clear that we’re up against a system designed to preserve the status quo so that the monied, powerful few forever stay that way, regardless of the costs suffered by everyone else?
Third, I’m afraid that there remains an element of what I call benign indifference. Roughly a year ago I observed that life is still really good for a lot of Americans even amid clear and ugly evidence that our country and its institutions are going perhaps irreversibly down the toilet. The same is still true. I’ll use myself as an example. I lament what’s happening in the United States, but let me be clear and brutally honest: I do so from a position of incredible privilege. I write this post from a summer home on the shores of northern Lake Michigan. I have a full-time job and a comfortable, safe place to live. Through some stroke of existential luck that I’ll never be able to explain, I’ve never faced a trial remotely comparable to what migrants at our southern border are facing every day. (By the way, some must truly be coming from absolutely hellish circumstances knowing what they’ll encounter when they arrive here.)
Do I find the current situation reprehensible? Absolutely. Am I doing enough about it? Hell, am I doing anything about it? Not by a long shot, unless you count this blog post that almost no one will read.
Which leads back to my earlier point: What can be done? Do we just sit on our hands and wait until next year’s election and hope it turns out better than the one four years earlier? That’s a tall order and a long time to wait. Too long. If your house is on fire, you can’t wait for a rainstorm to come and put it out.
Unfortunately, this isn’t as simple as calling the fire department. Accordingly, I don’t have a good answer, which troubles me, because I like to end my posts on a tidy note. Instead I’ll just quote the erstwhile Republican Rep. Justin Amash, one of the only members of his now-former party with an ounce of integrity: “If we continue to take America for granted, we will lose it.”
Indeed we will. Many might argue we already have. A disconcerting yet fitting message for this Independence Day.
