My wife and I recently watched a segment of the CNN series "The Nineties" and were reminded of just how violent a decade the 1990s was. The segment spotlighted the Waco, Texas, gunfight with the Branch Davidians cult; the Unabomber ,whose mailed bombs killed several and worried thousands; the Oklahoma City bombing; and the initial attempt by Al-Quaida to topple the Twin Towers. We breathed a sigh of relief that the 1990s were two decades behind us.
Days later we read the reports of pipe bombs that had been mailed to public officials in Washington, New York and other locations. It seemed like we were back in the worrisome days of the 1990s or the aftermath of 9/11.
What was most troubling about this week's spate of attempted bombings was that the target list seems to have been taken from President Trump's speeches and tweets. Bombs were sent to Hillary Clinton, former President Obama, former CIA director John Brennan, U.S. Rep. Maxine Waters, former Attorney General Eric Holder, and U.S. Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz, and liberal activist/donor George Soros. The link between all these targets is that they are Democrats and have been criticized viciously by President Trump.
To his credit, Trump issued a carefully worded statement calling for national unity and conversation, not violence. But this same president has called some of these targets "crooked," "dumb," and other ambiguous but mean-spirited adjectives. He enjoys leading chants of "Lock her up" at his rallies, calls news reporters "enemies of the people" and praises a congressman who body slammed a reporter who had the temerity to ask him a simple question about a national issue.
Trump supporters deny that his venomous criticisms had anything to do with the pipe bombs. Some even claim that the mailed packages were a Democratic plot to cast blame on Trump. But words matter. A kind word turns away wrath. An angry, hateful word promotes violence. Regardless of whether the person or persons responsible for these attempted bombings took their cues from the president's words, those words have debased our society and ruined political debate.
Throughout history, words have mattered. Thomas Jefferson's words helped launch a new republic. Adolf Hitler's words led to World War II and 20 million deaths. John Kennedy's words challenged Americans to put men on the moon. Franklin Roosevelt's words helped reassure Americans despondent because of the Great Depression. Abraham Lincoln's words redefined the Union's war goals and defined the principles of American democracy.
Because words matter, they should be chosen carefully.
Thursday, October 25, 2018
Thursday, October 18, 2018
What has happened is not amusing
One of the transformative books I've read and frequently recommended to others is Neil Postman's "Amusing Ourselves to Death." It is an indictment of television programming and the American public's complicit debasing of American culture and politics through mass media.
Writing in the early 1980s, Postman was disturbed with what was passing as entertainment on the pervasive, ubiquitous television set, which was replacing cogent conversation, reading, and personal relationships. Postman warned of this in an age before cable services offered hundreds of "entertainment" options that had Americans hypnotized by such choices as "Survivor," "The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette," "Naked and Afraid," "The Apprentice," and so forth.
I was wondering what Postman might think of the 2016 presidential election and television's impact on the most important office in the nation. The selection of a television "reality show" star to run this nation of 300 million is in line with Postman's apocalyptic view of the future for an American populace entranced by the ridiculousness of watching people savagely compete for a job, a romantic date, a cash prize, or a chance to survive. When more Americans know the names of the "Friends" stars than know the names of their senators, governors and congressmen, society has gone wrong.
I recently found that my concern about Postman's view of 21st century American politics has already been noted by Postman's son. A 2017 article in The Guardian reveals that Postman's son had the same concerns I did about television culture's influence in the 2016 election.
It didn't have to be this way. A utopian novel of the 19th century, "Looking Backward" by Edward Bellamy, predicted a much more favorable (and even less realistic?) view of the future. In Bellamy's 19th century view of the future, automation would give Americans nearly unlimited leisure time, which the public would use to read, study, learn and uplift themselves and their communities. Although Bellamy could not predict the advent of cable television or the internet, he did foresee a means of connecting American homes to quality programming via a kind of audio tube that would pipe concerts and great lectures into every home.
That's a far cry from what free enterprise, democratic government and public choices actually gave us. I read "Looking Backward" as background for an editorial writer's conference in the early 1980s. I read "Amusing Ourselves to Death" at the suggestion of a newspaper contact a few years later. Their views of the future could not have been more different. We are living with a world that is amusing itself to death.
Writing in the early 1980s, Postman was disturbed with what was passing as entertainment on the pervasive, ubiquitous television set, which was replacing cogent conversation, reading, and personal relationships. Postman warned of this in an age before cable services offered hundreds of "entertainment" options that had Americans hypnotized by such choices as "Survivor," "The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette," "Naked and Afraid," "The Apprentice," and so forth.
I was wondering what Postman might think of the 2016 presidential election and television's impact on the most important office in the nation. The selection of a television "reality show" star to run this nation of 300 million is in line with Postman's apocalyptic view of the future for an American populace entranced by the ridiculousness of watching people savagely compete for a job, a romantic date, a cash prize, or a chance to survive. When more Americans know the names of the "Friends" stars than know the names of their senators, governors and congressmen, society has gone wrong.
I recently found that my concern about Postman's view of 21st century American politics has already been noted by Postman's son. A 2017 article in The Guardian reveals that Postman's son had the same concerns I did about television culture's influence in the 2016 election.
It didn't have to be this way. A utopian novel of the 19th century, "Looking Backward" by Edward Bellamy, predicted a much more favorable (and even less realistic?) view of the future. In Bellamy's 19th century view of the future, automation would give Americans nearly unlimited leisure time, which the public would use to read, study, learn and uplift themselves and their communities. Although Bellamy could not predict the advent of cable television or the internet, he did foresee a means of connecting American homes to quality programming via a kind of audio tube that would pipe concerts and great lectures into every home.
That's a far cry from what free enterprise, democratic government and public choices actually gave us. I read "Looking Backward" as background for an editorial writer's conference in the early 1980s. I read "Amusing Ourselves to Death" at the suggestion of a newspaper contact a few years later. Their views of the future could not have been more different. We are living with a world that is amusing itself to death.
Monday, October 8, 2018
Ten years after being laid off
Ten years ago this week, my three-decade career as a newspaper editor came to an abrupt halt. My boss, the publisher, came into my office and told me he had to "let you go." My layoff was one of dozens at that newspaper and one of many thousands nationwide as newspapers across the country, shaken by steep drops in advertising revenue and falling circulation, shed workers en masse.
My immediate reaction was, "I'll lose my house," which we had moved into just five years before. I had been determined to pay off the 15-year mortgage in 12 years so that I could plan to retire debt-free. That now seemed impossible.
My second thought was, "I will not be bitter." It was a financial decision — one that could have been handled differently but it was out of my control. Getting angry or holding a grudge would only hurt me, not those who were casting me adrift after 29 years at the paper.
My immediate concern was surviving until I could find another job. It was obvious that I would need to change careers or move to another city — or both. My wife and I quickly decided that it made no sense for both of us to seek new jobs in an unfamiliar city. She had a good job that she enjoyed with a company that treated her well. It would be unfair to make her change jobs because I was laid off. I searched for jobs related to journalism — teaching, public relations, writing/editing services — as well as jobs unrelated to the work I had done before. I considered commuting to jobs in Raleigh and Clayton. I was flexible in my goals. I searched diligently for work while collecting a few months' severance pay followed by unemployment insurance. But finding a new job when you're 59 years old is nearly impossible. Age discrimination in hiring is illegal, but try to prove you were discriminated against. I was told that I had a good claim that my layoff resulted from age discrimination (I was replaced by a younger man), but I was also advised to be prepared for devoting my life to the discrimination lawsuit for at least 10 years.
No thanks. I kept job hunting. I remained unemployed for a year and became deeply depressed at times and frustrated. I finally landed a job managing a nonprofit's Wilson office, at about half my newspaper salary.
In the past 10 years, I have settled into a new career, changed jobs to manage a second nonprofit and quit thinking about ideas for news stories, how to cover public issues and how to redesign newspapers' business strategy to make newspapers profitable again. I am still a voracious reader of news and follower of political issues. I'm only a spectator now, and that is fine. I rarely see or think about the friends I knew in newspapers across the state. I've closed that door behind me. A year ago, I retired, began collecting Social Security and signed up for Medicare.
I read; I write a little; I work at maintaining our house, which we didn't lose after all (the state's unemployment insurance provided just enough to pay the mortgage, and my wife's salary covered our other expenses). I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to close out my newspaper career on my own terms, but nothing in life is guaranteed. I'm happy where I am now, and I am grateful every day for the way things have turned out.
My immediate reaction was, "I'll lose my house," which we had moved into just five years before. I had been determined to pay off the 15-year mortgage in 12 years so that I could plan to retire debt-free. That now seemed impossible.
My second thought was, "I will not be bitter." It was a financial decision — one that could have been handled differently but it was out of my control. Getting angry or holding a grudge would only hurt me, not those who were casting me adrift after 29 years at the paper.
My immediate concern was surviving until I could find another job. It was obvious that I would need to change careers or move to another city — or both. My wife and I quickly decided that it made no sense for both of us to seek new jobs in an unfamiliar city. She had a good job that she enjoyed with a company that treated her well. It would be unfair to make her change jobs because I was laid off. I searched for jobs related to journalism — teaching, public relations, writing/editing services — as well as jobs unrelated to the work I had done before. I considered commuting to jobs in Raleigh and Clayton. I was flexible in my goals. I searched diligently for work while collecting a few months' severance pay followed by unemployment insurance. But finding a new job when you're 59 years old is nearly impossible. Age discrimination in hiring is illegal, but try to prove you were discriminated against. I was told that I had a good claim that my layoff resulted from age discrimination (I was replaced by a younger man), but I was also advised to be prepared for devoting my life to the discrimination lawsuit for at least 10 years.
No thanks. I kept job hunting. I remained unemployed for a year and became deeply depressed at times and frustrated. I finally landed a job managing a nonprofit's Wilson office, at about half my newspaper salary.
In the past 10 years, I have settled into a new career, changed jobs to manage a second nonprofit and quit thinking about ideas for news stories, how to cover public issues and how to redesign newspapers' business strategy to make newspapers profitable again. I am still a voracious reader of news and follower of political issues. I'm only a spectator now, and that is fine. I rarely see or think about the friends I knew in newspapers across the state. I've closed that door behind me. A year ago, I retired, began collecting Social Security and signed up for Medicare.
I read; I write a little; I work at maintaining our house, which we didn't lose after all (the state's unemployment insurance provided just enough to pay the mortgage, and my wife's salary covered our other expenses). I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to close out my newspaper career on my own terms, but nothing in life is guaranteed. I'm happy where I am now, and I am grateful every day for the way things have turned out.
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