Survival Guide

In the wild, when threatened, we have a few instinctive reactions. Broadly, they boil down to fight or flight. A forrest fire is cresting the hill? Time to pack up and get out of the way. A cougar comes after you on a hike in the woods or a shark in the water? You can’t outrun them, so the advice is stand and fight. Sometimes a blow to the nose is enough to turn a shark away. Not so sure about a cougar, but fight with all your might and you might get lucky. Doing nothing certainly won’t save you.

So, here we are in the political jungle. If you’re a progressive, you’re about to be under attack. Even if you’re not that liberal, if you need reproductive care, you may find yourself in a choiceless wasteland. Or any healthcare, for that matter, including vaccines. ICE might be roaming your neighborhood looking for people with brown skin to round up.

So, what will it be, fight or flight?

Running away is unpalatable. There aren’t that many good places to run to, for one thing. Roaming the world as an expat is an option only for the wealthy. And maybe you believe, as I do, until proven wrong, that the United States is, for its citizens, still overall the best place for personal freedom and economic opportunity. The powerful engine of capitalism isn’t immediately threatened by this new danger, and it is what has brought us to the pinnacle of economic strength where we now find ourselves. Capitalism needs its nurturing nanny, political stability, which is also under threat. My guess is that if despotism takes hold firmly enough in our country to threaten capitalism, the despots will be tossed out, or the capitalists will leave. If the latter happens, going with them will have to be reconsidered as the best alternative. But we’re a ways away from that outcome just now. I’m not saying it couldn’t happen, but it’s more like the cougar you see on a ridge across a valley, less like one that has its teeth in your neck.

So, I’m staying. And fighting.

I live in California, a state full of people who broadly share my values. We fight among ourselves from time to time, but mostly we look after one another and respect each other’s rights. In the United States, states have a lot of power to make their own policies, no matter what the federal government is doing. California will continue to offer affordable healthcare and (fairly) decent education. It will continue to offer abortions. It will continue to help the poor and try to help the homeless, although that last part is a challenge even for a state with a big heart and budget.

The front line in my fight, then, will be my home state. I’ll do what I can to keep it humane and progressive. There’s little I can do to change the regrettable backsliding in places like Florida, Texas and my birth state, Tennessee, but I can be vigilant and do my best to keep it from happening in my adopted home state, the place where over the course of our history people of all colors and economic circumstances have come to to pursue their dreams. Dreams that have given us movies and artificial intelligence. Dreams that have bred more dreams, in a virtuous cycle of reinvention and renewal.

And I should point out that what has happened legislatively in Tennessee, Florida and Texas is actually a playbook for what I want for California, just one that led scoring at the wrong end of the field. Those states have, in reaction to what they see as progressive socialism, godlessness and wokeness, adopted a slew of horrific policies on everything from abortion rights to education cirriculuums to who gets to go into what bathrooms. I don’t agree with their policies, but if they can do it, we can do it too, but for progressivism rather than revanchist white male chauvinism.

If we can look after ourselves here in California, maybe the parts of the country that have turned their backs on their fellow countrymen will eventually see the error of their ways. Tariffs will not make them richer, just the opposite; they’ll pay more for anything that is imported or made with imported goods. Tax cuts for the one-percent will not make them richer. Unwanted children will not make their communities stronger. Undernourished and unhealthy families will not make better neighbors. An immigrant round up will be a reign of terror reminiscent of the detention and deportation (and much worse) of Jews and others in Nazi Germany. Reigns of terror never lead to anything good, only more terror.

I have my fingers crossed that those who voted in this pack of idiots will one day wake up and see the light. In the meantime, I’ll defend my home.

The Way I Want to See the American Flag Fly

One of my sons is in Paris now, and I’m jealous. Not because he can enjoy the croissants I love, but because he can be part of the celebration in the Place de la République (pictured here) and all over the city of the national election results in which the left beat back the right. It had looked like Marine Le Pen and her neo-fascists were surging, but the people rallied and for now, Voila!

When I see the French tricolor waving over that jubilant crowd, I see more than political victory, I see national pride. It’s a feeling I don’t have at the sight of the American flag being flown from a freeway overpass by gun-toting folks in tactical gear.

I’ve never been much of a nationalist, but I have always admired our country’s ideals and its pluck. It kept us safe and offered prosperity to those who were willing to work for it. As I’ve gotten older and realized how unequal opportunity can be in our laissez faire society, I’ve also admired the way collectively, through the institutions of what Lyndon Johnson called the Great Society, we have looked after the least fortunate among us.

Lately, like Le Pen’s National Rally party in France, it feels like we have been drifting away from those ideals. Maybe it’s just a periodic pendulum swing, but it feels like more than that. It feels like the quakers want to be cowboys now, packing iron on their hips and daring anyone to challenge their right to judge others by whatever hateful standard might be in fashion for them at the moment.

France is an interesting place for me to love. It’s not as productive or inventive as America. Its current form of socialism means taxes are high. But at least in some areas, like healthcare, it delivers on the promise of socialism, the collective thinking of all pulling together for the common good.

America is all about individualism. If you’re industrious and lucky, you can make it bigger here than anywhere. And for the most part, we work hard. But we are not that great at sharing. For us, “socialist” is as dirty a word as heretic or child abuser.

Don’t get me wrong, in a pinch, I want America in my foxhole. But I’d rather not be in a foxhole at all, which is one of the reasons I’m glad France has resisted the far right. Their policies would make it easier for Putin to continue his land grabs. Europe needs to stand against him, and we need to stand with Europe. The last time we dithered Hitler took over Europe and we had to pull together to go in and clean up the mess. I don’t want to have to do that again, or run the risk that we won’t.

I want to be proud of what my country stands for. That’s not the right wing. We don’t need the Ku Klux Klan back. We can’t survive in today’s interlocked and complex world as isolationists. We can’t just mind our own business and hope the rest of the world doesn’t bother us. We have to be engaged with other nations. We have to be generous with one another. We have to lift our lamp beside the golden door. Then I’ll be proud.

Which brings me to our current distressing political moment. Our Marine Le Pen is Donald Trump. He is even more dangerous than she. He has as much as told us, in his statements about what he wants to accomplish, that it would be a grave mistake for us to elect him again. But now that Joe Biden is showing his age and incapacity, that’s what is going to happen, unless we nominate someone young and vigorous with a chance to beat Trump. 

For the good of the country and the free world, President Biden needs to step aside. If he won’t, he should be made to by any lawful, non-violent means necessary. There is a place for him on a pedestal in the garden of people who have been decent U.S. leaders, but not one as the Democratic nominee for President in 2024.

Sir, Yes Sir

It’s a dark and depressing time. I have a talented, gorgeous partner, five kids who are brilliant and happy, plenty of money. So, you can see my problem.

Ridiculous, right?

I don’t know why I cant just declare victory and enjoy life. I can’t afford a mega yacht or a private island, but I can travel, learn, grow, love. What the heck is my problem?

Maybe I’m a little depressed. Why, in view of everything I have, would that be? Could be wonky brain chemicals, I suppose, but they’ve been in there a long time without causing (too much) trouble. There’s no reason for them to be acting up now. 

I think my problem is that I can’t ignore the suffering of others. Every day I have to metaphorically step over a drug addict out cold on the sidewalk or pass by a woman begging with her child on the blanket beside her. Every day I read the news about the millions of people suffering in the most barbaric conditions. Every day I read about the god-fearing politicians who say those poor suffering souls need to work harder, or stay in their own country and not spoil the blood of ours. You want medical care, prove to us you are working or go off and die, preferably out of sight, like an animal in a dark corner under the wisteria blooming porch of a mansion.

Ukraine is losing to Russia? What do we care? Migrants are drowning and bleeding from the cuts of concertina wire laid out in the Rio Grande? We don’t want people like them in our country, even though we all are descended from people like them, people who came here to try to build better lives for themselves and their children. It’s time to pull up the ladder now. No more room in the treehouse.

But there is plenty of room. In fact, to dwell on immigration for a moment, we all are made better off by it. Economically and culturally. 

What we are doing now is selfish and mean. We have to do it, we are told. If Donald Trump, the cheerleader-in-chief for sociopathic behavior, isn’t elected, there will be a bloodbath. That’s what he tells us. That’s what his people hear.

“Sir, yes sir!” 

The Way We Were

We didn’t used to shoot each other at the slightest provocation. Or without any provocation, just because we were pissed off about something and wanted to kill someone. 

We didn’t used to tell people that they had to follow the dictates of our religion, whether or not it was what they believed. We didn’t used to refuse to follow laws we felt were at odds with what we believed our religion commanded. 

We used to be better at minding our own business.

We were both kinder to one another and at the same time more libertarian. More “Don’t tread on me,” but also more respecting of the correlative: Live and let live.

Now we’re just mad and spoiling for a fight. We’re mean drunks, and the booze we’re guzzling is self-righteous self-pity. Somebody else must be to blame. Let's kill the bastards. Or at least mock and heckle them and drive them out of our incestuous village of paranoid delusion.

I’m gettin older, so maybe I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just not with it any more. Well, if “with it” is what describes the way we are behaving today, I hope not. 

To Be, Or Not To Be...Afraid

If I get a scary medical diagnosis, I focus on dealing with the problem, but I admit it makes me nervous. Same thing if someone I love is threatened by betrayal of mind or body. Otherwise, I don’t worry much.

Lately, with society at a low boil in a shallow pan, I think I should worry more. I read the cautionary tales, I study the uncivil behavior that in another time might have been unthinkable, and I express concern, but I think it more than feel it. 

I just seem to have a hard time believing the worst is going to happen.

Why is that? Lord knows. The worst has happened plenty of times, over and over again. Wars, genocides, mass shootings—of children, for gods sake. Maybe it’s my own lack of proximity to those tragedies that has left me sanguine. No enemy has invaded my country. I missed Vietnam, without even having to go lame with a bone spur. I’ve never been close to an active shooter.

Even though I know about them, it’s hard to imagine those things happening to me. Is that a failure of imagination, or is it a form of psychological armor that keeps me going forward and not hunkering down in a defensive crouch?

If it’s the latter, as I’m sure it is, at what point will it deceive me into believing that I am safer than I am? Why would it do that, anyway? Surely that’s not evolutionarily adaptive.

Or, perhaps it is. Life can’t go on if we are cowering in fear. Chores don’t get done, food doesn’t get put on the table. Paralyzing fear is just that…paralyzing.

There is a difference between acute danger and chronic threat. We all respond pretty well, and quickly, to acute danger. Fire in the kitchen, for instance. We’re slower to deal with chronic threats. Climate change is a good example. Is it real? we ask. What could I do about it, anyway? 

That kind of thinking lets us off the hook and permits us to go back to daily life, where dishes piling up in the sink are a more acute problem than an ambiguous threat that the planet is warming. Or that Donald Trump is going to tear down our democracy. 

Weather cycles and politicians come and go, we tell ourselves. Neither has destroyed us yet, at least not our own politicians. It’s easy to become complacent.

Then one day the tornado touches down on our home and it’s gone. After the next election, the mob doesn’t just put their feet up on the Speaker’s desk, they burn down the Capitol.

What then? 

We’d likely wander around in shock that the unimaginable happened and then try to put the pieces back together and get on with life, even if that meant starting over. We’re good at starting over. That's an adaptive trait.

How much better not to have to lay a new foundation for our home. How much better not to lose all we treasure.

We know how to avoid those calamities, even though we have distracted ourselves with our infighting to the point that we seem to have forgotten what the long history of civilization has taught us.

We have to build storm cellars, and we have to pay attention to the character of the men and women to whom we entrust the sacred job of protecting us and providing for our welfare. 

That job is not about retribution. It is about sober planning and an old-fashioned sense of responsibility to one another. It is grounded in a recognition that we are all in this together, and that fighting like pit bulls who have been tormented to the point that they only experience rage is only going to leave us bloodied and weak.

People Get Ready, A Train's A'Coming

I have become a prepper. 

The disaster I’m preparing for is a natural one, a storm of human nature. I see it forming on the horizon, a black funnel cloud sucking into its vortex fences that used to give neighbors a sense of their own place and safety.

I’ve never worried much about threats I couldn’t control. Partly that was because I was too busy with work and family, partly it was because I’m an optimist. It’s hard for me to think a disaster is about to befall us, especially since in my lifetime, although we’ve had some bad storms, we’ve always come out of the storm cellar not only alive but also chastened by the savagery of the world we live in, even more wary of its dangers, even more determined no to let them destroy us.

This time, I’m less sanguine.

I now believe there is a non-trivial chance Donald Trump will be our next president.

That’s the disaster I’m prepping for.

In his first term Trump was a wanna-be-dictator who created chaos in domestic and world affairs that caused significant but not irreparable damage. This time he may well succeed in becoming an actual dictator. 

We all know the risks: martial law, jailed enemies, suspended civil rights. General Milley wont be there to stop him from using the military as his personal police force, nor will Merrick Garland be around to block his use of the Justice Department as his personal star chamber. He has grievances—he lives for grievances—and he will have the means to settle them to his liking, with little restraint. 

Could we depend on the courts to stop him? What armies do they have?

In 2015 and 2016, I enjoyed the jokes about Trump. Then suddenly, he won and they weren’t funny. Yes, Biden beat him in 2020, but Biden’s approval has sunk to the lowest of any president in the last 15 years. He’s in trouble.

And Trump just keeps getting stronger politically. I read today in the NYT that his charismatic strongman persona is appealing to many in Iowa, the first caucus state. Another NYT piece said college-educated Republicans nationally are finding their way back to him. His blue collar base, of course, never left.

The things I want to protect are the personal and economic safety of my family. Out on a farm in Iowa in the 1800s that would mean keeping my fences mended and my rifle loaded. 

But how do we keep assets safe from government appropriation in today’s world? By stuffing them under mattresses or in closet safes? By making deposits in local banks under the control of the Fed and the Treasury Department?

 

Personal safety is trickier still. Despite our lust for guns, rifles aren’t going to save us from assaults by the FBI, IRS or Justice Department, never mind the US Army.

I’m new to apocalypse planning. I’ve been like the wealthy Jews in Vienna in the late 1930s before Hitler took everything from them, including their lives. They thought that couldn’t happen to them. They were pillars of their economic community, after all. 

Of course it did happen to them. Is Trump our Hitler? I don’t know, but he says things that make me seriously concerned he would like to be.

All I’ve been able to come up with so far is to keep financial assets in liquid securitie in big national investment firms. I should be able to get at those from anywhere in the world, as long as I am not personally under attack and my assets frozen, which, since I am peaceful and law-abiding, would mean the US had devolved into a Fascist state determined to persecute anyone who might challenge it, a category I would certainly fall into. Couldn’t I just be quiet to protect myself? I don’t know. I doubt it. Honestly, I hope not.

Riding out the storm in another country is appealing as a last resort. I like it here. Specifically, I like it in California, a state that aligns with my values. I don’t want to move, but I’d like to know I had a sanctuary if worst came to dreadfully worst.

The Jews who got out of Vienna before Kristallnacht fared a lot better than those who had faith in their government, indeed in their fellow citizens, and stayed.

The risk of complacency here in the US has now become, for me, unacceptably high.