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The Politics of Fear Jaron Pearlman In his second release, ‘The Politics of Fear’, Jaron Pearlman explores the effects that fear has upon both modern politics and sociology. His first book ‘Iconoclasm: Political Empowerment for the New Millennium’ (2018) illustrated the various frameworks needed for social interaction and civics through a series of short essays. ‘The Politics of Fear’ builds upon this, aiming to shed light onto the inner workings of how fear is used to manipulate and subjugate the will of constituents. Fear is not just a survival mechanism, it is also an inexorable facet of our pride, our identities, and our national histories. Pearlman powerfully and unapologetically conveys how the removal of our unwarranted fears is key to the successful evolution of individualism, liberal democracy, and sustainable economics. We are reminded once more through Pearlman’s candid outlook that we all share the same hopes and hindrances, the same futures and fears. The Politics of Fear By Jaron D. Pearlman Man is not afraid of things, but of how they view them. —Epictetus 1 Prologue The Origins of Enlightenment Throughout the civilized world, there are notions that man, a mortal being, was fashioned in the image of gods. To be godlike, ultimately, is to be a creator and destroyer, a source of novelty that defies natural convention and arranges the world by specific design. Regardless of religious belief or doctrine, this idea describes humanity very well. To be human is to create and to destroy, to defy the ultimatums set forth by the natural world and arrange it in ways that supersede earthly dogmas. Humankind has tailored the earth to its own convenience, utilizing agriculture, motor vehicles, vaccines, computers, electricity, art, and much more to mold our surroundings to taste. This desire and ​need​ to create is, in no small terms, godlike. No other creature on the planet has this creative capacity, or ability to translate abstract thought into tangible reality. It may be fair to assume that just as religious individuals perceive their god as an omnipotent and supernaturally powerful being, many animals would believe humans to be the same if they are capable of such thoughts. Surely the inventions and power displayed by humanity are a sight to behold if a creature does not understand them. One could imagine how animals view humanity, a complex mix of admiration and fear. This creative and abstract enlightenment is the source of a recurring question for humankind. Why are we so different from other life forms we see on earth? 2 It is said in ancient Greek mythology that Prometheus, a titan that preceded the gods of Olympus, was commissioned to create mankind out of water and clay. His brother, Epimetheus, toiled over the beasts of the forests and water, creating them to excel in the natural world. While Epimetheus designed his creatures for flight, speed, strength, and swimming, Prometheus obsessed over creating a single being with abstract thought and complex emotion. This would be his opus: a being that not only lived in the present and for survival, but also that could remember the distant past and see into the distant future, one that cognitively rivaled the Olympians themselves. When his creation was complete, Prometheus then gave humans the gift of fire, a privilege that had previously been reserved only for the gods. This gift of “fire” is likely symbolic, describing what was perhaps a gift of godly knowledge rather than literal flames. The altruism Prometheus had shown humanity was met with anger by the gods of Olympus; they found his gift to be blasphemous and believed that mortal beings should not be trusted with the knowledge of the gods. But it was far too late, as the gift of fire spread across the ancient world and humans began to flourish in their godlike abilities. Mankind would now be able to stave off wild animals of the forests and water, building sprawling cities, forging strong weapons, and living without implicit dependence on the gods. Prometheus would be severely punished for his sins against Olympus, chained to a boulder as an eagle ate at his liver for all of eternity. 3 A similar tale is found in ancient Sumer, modern-day Iraq. In this story a god named Enki was one of many giants that worked the earth for resources. His race had become tired of their perpetual labor, and Enki was tasked with the creation of a slave race to work for the gods. He went to work, crafting his humans from clay and blood. The god-giants were pleased with Enki’s work initially, as human beings began to bear the brunt of earthly work for their creators. They toiled with well-honed efficiency, but Enki had become very attached to his creations, eventually giving them the ability to reproduce autonomously. Once more, this idea of “reproduction” could be taken as a metaphor; not just meaning literal procreation, but also the acquisition of godly knowledge to create and invent. It was one thing for Enki to possess the gift of creation, but another altogether for the humans to have it themselves. Humanity grew and grew, becoming very vocal and possessed of their own self-determination. This offset their initial purpose of being slaves, as human beings began to focus more and more upon the future of their species, their creativity, and their livelihoods. It is at this juncture that another god, Enlil, became tired of Enki’s humans and began to plan a great flood to annihilate them. Enki learned of this plan and told the humans to build a great boat that could house all earthly animals within it, saving them from Enlil’s wrath. This is the origin of the great flood myth that morphed into Noah’s Ark in the Old and New Testaments. These tales can be even further translated into the religions of Abraham: Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. 4 According to the Christian bible, god made Adam from dust. The Jewish Torah and Muslim Quran say Adam was made from clay. Each of these variants offers the idea that humankind was molded from an earthly medium, similar to the stories of Prometheus and Enki. God placed his first humans in the garden of Eden, with clear definition that they were different from his other creations. Humans were “made in his image” and undoubtedly possessed his ability to create. Adam and his wife, Eve, were told to wander the garden and multiply. They were, however, explicitly told by god to avoid the tree of knowledge which bore the forbidden fruit containing a godlike wisdom of both good and evil. A serpent, representative of either satan or some other sort of demigod, beguiled Eve into eating from the forbidden tree. He said to Eve, “You surely will not die from eating this fruit! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:4-5). In the traditional narrative, the serpent seeks to betray humanity and cause a fall from god’s grace. The serpent is said to be jealous of god’s favor to humans. Though when contrasted with the stories of Prometheus and Enki, the serpent is perhaps trying to help humanity obtain greater enlightenment, against the wishes of other supernatural beings. Adam and Eve are cast out of the garden and resigned by god to observe short and harsh lives, where the visceral actualities of death, invention, emotion, greed, loss, and self-sufficiency become their reality. 5 In each of these stories, there are gods that wish to deny humanity of their autonomy, using fire, reproduction, and fruit as metaphors for the forbidden. The parallels are truly astounding. This illustrates a keen self-awareness of ancient cultures, namely that human beings have long known that our enlightenment comes at a heavy cost. Though we are able to create in the way of the gods, we are subject to our own imperfections and our own fears. Though we may be able to create vaccines and agriculture, we are also able to create atom bombs and firearms. Though we can imagine detailed worlds of fantasy and beauty, we can also imagine realities of endless terror and our own mortal coil. The ability to create and manifest abstract thought is far from pure or neutral, jumping erratically from altruistic to destructive. The demigods that sought to give humans free will were players in a game that had little recourse. Humans would either become slaves to a regimented and dogmatic force or would be free to become our own agents of creation and destruction. By reimagining origin stories in this way, there is significant moral ambiguity. Is it more moral for gods to guide humans and protect us from ourselves? Or is it more moral for humans to have their freedom, even if it means self-destruction? There is a certain fear of enlightenment that is noteworthy throughout human history. As it will be examined in this book, literacy and knowledge are suppressed historically, not by gods, but by human beings, governments, and classist hierarchies. There is an innate fear that if humanity were wholly enlightened, that power could be usurped, overthrown, and replaced easily. 6 In my mind this is why stories of the serpent and his contemporaries are often demonized, while controlling and dogmatic gods are revered. It instills the idea that knowledge is less important than faith, authority is more important than equality, and adherence is more valuable than accountability. Mind you, when I say this, it is not meant to degrade the religious beliefs of you or anyone else. It is a simple observation of metaphors and their context, based in history and sociology. It is well warranted to consider that ancient stories may likely tell us more about our own anthropological history than the conjecture of gods or belief. But fear, and the repercussions of it, is undoubtedly what perverts enlightenment. The brilliance of the human mind is harnessed through understanding. Its destructive capacity is released through fear. It follows that fear is used to justify destruction and to permit corruption. This is what ​The Politics of Fear ​catalogs. What is fear? How does it shape who we are? What am I being told to fear? While we know what fear is emotionally, we rarely think about how it shapes our world and our individual personalities. Yet even ancient texts beg these questions. Could it be that these stories, regardless of their basis in reality, were warnings? Could they have been meant to stir our thoughts and perceptions in order to make us question our own potential for good and evil? What if the powers of gods and demons were not of some other world, but contained fully in the potentials of humankind? 7 I invite you to explore these ideas with me. ​The Politics of Fear ​is about our pasts, our presents, and our futures. It is about how we may harness enlightenment while staving off the potential we have for self-destruction. There have been countless human versions of Prometheus, Enki, and the serpent; men and women who have tirelessly sought to give humankind freedom and self-determination. There have also been countless human versions of the Olympians, Enlil, and Abraham’s god, those who seek to undermine free will and individualism. Some seek to break our chains, and others seek to reforge them. The only real question is this: What would we do with our freedom should we attain it? 8 Homogenization 119 Table of Contents Binaries 125 Notes 130 Who Are You? 11 The Pride of Origin 136 What We Are, What We Are Not 18 The Pride of Understanding 142 I Am a Nation 24 The Pride of War 148 Survival 31 The Pride of Nostalgia 154 Notes 35 The Pride of False Prophets 161 Notes 168 Corruption 41 Cultural Relevance 48 Nuclear War 174 Dogma and Meaninglessness 53 Malthusian Catastrophe 179 What We Don’t Understand 59 Terrorism 187 Notes 65 Manifest Destiny 195 Economic Unrest 200 Notes 206 Moral Debt 71 Confirmation Bias 78 Bailouts 83 Personal Experience 212 Xenophobia 89 Embracing Anarchy 220 Nationalism 95 America As A Leader 229 Notes 101 The New Fascism 236 Notes 242 Loyalty 107 Double Standards 112 9 10 Who Are You? There are so many answers to this question. Are you your occupation? Some people would respond by listing their religion, their morals, or their political affiliation. Some answers would include a person’s hobbies, dislikes, or ethnicities. But is that truly who you are? Is it a culmination of these answers that reflect our individualism, or are these only superficial labels? As we grow older we develop deeper senses of identity, adding new perspectives daily to “who we are.” If we identify as a banker, carpenter, or entrepreneur, a Christian, a Muslim, or an Atheist, we are using words that culturally compartmentalize us for easy social identification. When we attain these new words to define the self, could such labels actually be simple means of marginalizing our attributes to illustrate a social value? Identity is a difficult thing to define. Yet there are common threads for each characterization of “self.” One of the most prominent of these threads is that identity thrives upon task-related action. To embrace concepts of identity we complete tasks, or work toward their completion. In the act of writing this book I am cementing a part of my identity as an author, a social commentator, and an activist. The reinforcement of these terms feels good to me. It validates the perception I have of my own identity, committing a new addendum to the story of “me.” Task completion and creation are necessary for a sense of identity, usefulness, and mental health. These feats can be as grandiose as building a skyscraper or as cathartic as simply beating a video game, 11 but it is clear in either case that creation and completion are hallmarks of value that humans need in their lives. This positive feeling of personal growth can be related to a Freudian concept called the ​psychic apparatus​. In this theoretical construct, there are three mediating forces in our psychology: the ​id​,​ ego​, and super-ego​. The id exists on one side of the spectrum, dealing with survival instinct. This is our base level of consciousness. It tells us to eat, drink, reproduce, and avoid danger. Self-preservation is paramount to the survival of conscious organisms. Creatures like fish and reptiles exist primarily upon the function of their id; there is likely little concern to a lizard about its personality or morals. A lizard is more likely focused upon its next meal, finding a mate, or avoiding predators that would consider it a nice lunch. The benefit of the id is obvious: Without it prolonged survival of a species would be unlikely. Darwinistic success implies a functioning id and a strong basic survival instinct. On the other side of the spectrum exists the super-ego. The super-ego deals with complex social and personal concepts such as morality, identity, role identification, social decorum, and interpersonal value. These things all result from social interaction. Species that interact socially often need a better psychological frame of reference for themselves and their contemporaries. By defining attributes like those listed above, social interaction can become organized into functional templates: alphas and omegas, castes, familial bonds, and individualized strengths. By defining the self and others through the super-ego, role delegation becomes possible, as does psycho-social evolution. What this can ultimately amount to is the organization of civics and collective action. 12 An excellent example of the super-ego fine-tuning social interaction exists within lion prides. While male lions are physically more powerful than their female counterparts, female lionesses do nearly 90 percent of the hunting for their pride. This is due to several factors, namely that the role of a male lion is to fight and deter rival males from killing their pride’s offspring. A male’s mane helps in scaring off younger and less mature rivals but is not so effective in camouflaging them from potential prey, whereas the females have a sleek and minimal coat. A lion’s super-ego has helped in defining gender roles based upon practicality. Though these roles assist in long-term survival, they do not assist in immediate survival like the id. Fight-or-flight reactions are indicative of id-related responses, while planned and socially conscious actions are the result of the super-ego. It can also be phrased that the super-ego is capable of using knowledge from the past or predictions about the future to make informed decisions about the present. Mediating between the id and super-ego is the ego. The ego pulls information from each side of the psychic apparatus and assists in decision-making. Based on reactions from the id and super-ego, the ego invokes action. Assume you have to jump from one building top to another. If you make it, you get a million dollars. An internal dialogue may go as follows: Id: You can’t make it. The gap is too far and you may fall and die. Super-ego: Go for it! You are strong enough, and there’s a million dollars on the other side! It is at this juncture that the ego must mediate each opposing viewpoint, weighing factors for the jump and allowing you to make a decision. The ego is an arbiter between base-level survival and 13 higher-level social thinking. The million dollars is valuable socially, and the super-ego recognizes its value. But the id knows the potential fall is immediately dangerous. What is interesting is that the id and super-ego also deal heavily in what we fear. These are not just means of psychological compartmentalization; they help in determining what we find displeasing or scary. Our fears are an intangible component of who we are, often defining more about us than even our hopes or dreams. Fears of failure, pain, loss, hopelessness, or helplessness accompany even the greatest dream or achievement. Therefore it can be reasoned that “we” are no more our names or occupations than “we” are our own fears. The id deals with intrinsic fears that aid in survival. Unconscious or uncontrollable fears are often very primal, and these phobias have their foundation in the id. Many fears can even be irrational, like arachnophobia (the fear of spiders), which is rooted in concerns of being poisoned by venomous arachnids. However, this id-based response likely served our ancestors well, allowing survival for those who successfully avoided venomous spiders. Many of us have a fear of heights, snakes, small spaces, or storms. But as human beings, we are subject to perceptions far beyond just that of just our immediate survival. Our super-ego deals with a catalog of fears that are far too numerous to name. We fear for our professional success, relationships, future, pets, and governments, how we are perceived by others, and how we perceive others. We fear whether or not we are perceived to have social value; many of us also fear if we are somehow prejudiced. We are afraid of hypothetical situations where we run out of money, run 14 out of creativity, develop health issues, or become socially irrelevant. The empathetic and predictive ability of the super-ego is a blessing and a curse. Through it we are able to associate emotional attachment to memory, guiding the hand of human evolution across the generations. The happiness experienced by early humans after creating fire likely helped in remembering those skills, giving the ability to pass this gift to their children. At the same time, this emotional response is easily manipulated and staked in personal biases. This is largely what ​The Politics of Fear​ deals with. Because the super-ego is so valuable to our sense of “self,” it can feel as though our identity is lost when it is threatened. If the super-ego is threatened, that feeling can very easily pass through the filter of ego and into the id, where it is then processed as an immediate threat to survival itself. Intense emotional reactions to superficial stimuli are clear examples of this phenomenon, wherein a non-threatening action invokes a fight-or-flight reaction. Threats to the super-ego are often not true threats to survival, but our psyche can interpret them as such. This is perhaps best shown in a quote attributed to Mark Twain (though there is no specific record of his actually saying this): “It is easier to fool people than to convince them they have been fooled.” What this quote means is that once information is accepted as being true, the super-ego must be challenged in order to change said acceptance. Doing so is no easy task; people often prefer to continue believing they are correct even when confronted with information to the contrary. When this occurs, the super-ego is attempting to 15 preserve itself and its identity. If the ego fails to mediate appropriately, an attack on the super-ego can infiltrate the id, where an intense survival response is initiated. This describes why people can become irate or even violent when their preconceived beliefs are challenged. It truly is an easier task to get someone to accept completely new information than to change old information. These ideas may seem far-fetched, even hyperbolic, but they reflect very real paradigms regarding the psyche and sociology. It would be silly to imagine that large governing forces are unaware of such concepts, even if they aren’t phrased in Freudian dialect. The truth is that for all of our creativity and resourcefulness, human beings are sensitive creatures. We rely deeply upon the state of our psyche and sense of self, each of these being easily used as back doors to the manipulation of our actions. By altering or patronizing our senses of self, our innate fears, and our psychic apparatuses, there is the potential for massive groups of people to be misled. Individuality can be sterilized, and progressivism can be substituted for stagnant or corrupt political policy. Placation of the super-ego is an unfortunate means by which identity and individuality can be used against a populace, ironically making them feel freer as they are more easily misled. By gaslighting and provoking negative responses from the super-ego, it can be very simple to undermine the will of the people. Once the super-ego has triggered the id, there is little consideration for the past or future, severely stunting any potential for collective political action. It is because of this that our senses of self must rely on something deeper than affiliative labels. Simply being our occupation, religion, or political party depreciates the true content of individualism. It also 16 leaves open the back doors of our psyche to manipulation, preventing growth on both the personal and national levels. Given the superficial nature of such labels, we are now tasked with a much more difficult question: How do we define who we are? 17 What We Are, What We Are Not The first thing most of us learn as children is the concept of binaries. Black and white, good and bad, heaven and hell, fire and water. Concepts that are diametrically opposed offer easy identification. For a toddler, this is perfect. At a young age, distinct definitions are helpful in learning about the world around us, but as we grow we begin to see fewer and fewer of these ultimatums. We begin to understand alternate perspectives, exaggeration, allegory, and critical thought. However, for many adults there is still a deeply ingrained binary, one that relates directly to our sense of self. When we assume a political affiliation, we institute means of personal identification. These qualities are related to the super-ego and are subtextually motivated by fear. When labeling ourselves as a member of a political party, we give defined parameters about what we are and what we are not. By endorsing a political candidate or ideology, we are affirming something (or someone) we deem to be morally or practically just. In doing so we also affirm our own opinions by validating them through well-known public representation. This alone can lead to troublesome biases. Take, for example, the following: A political representative that promotes anti-war rhetoric but engages in acts of war regardless. It is likely that a supporter of this representative will embolden that individual’s anti-war rhetoric while ignoring their war-like actions. In this case ignoring the action isn’t due to ignorance, but rather a survival mechanism: the super-ego transferring stress to the id. Rather than addressing the disparity between our representative’s words and actions, we will often affirm our own identity through rose-tinted lenses. If we lose the perceived 18 identity of those we support, we lose our own identity in the process. A loss of identity is a terrible threat to the super-ego. Elaborating, our morals and sense of practicality are means by which we inflate the super-ego. “Right,” “wrong,” “smart,” or “stupid” are qualities we use to determine personal identity. When we say, “So-and-so is a great president,” what we are really saying is, “I am a good judge of what is great.” Giving characterization to this feeling is even more gratifying: Applying words like “Democrat” or “Republican.” These terms help to compartmentalize our identities, compressing them into digestible snippets that fuel the super-ego. Such terms of identification mean that we have more allies in our definition of “what is great,” further affirming that we have made good choices for our identity. By having social contemporaries that also identify as our chosen political label we excuse ourselves from the marginalization of true independence, which can feel extremely isolating. What the concept of political parties inherently limits is the ability to second-guess our choices, see alternate perspectives, or analyze hypocritical actions. We fear losing the sense of “what we are,” and in doing so miss out on the ability to truly grow as individuals. Just as influential as “who we are,” is “who we are not.” When we oppose political actions or individuals, this aversion has the same impact on critical thought as shown above. Let us consider a few past US presidents as examples. During Barack Obama’s term he was labeled by dissidents as a “Muslim” and a “socialist.” By being gregarious in these beliefs, Obama’s critics were actually saying: “I am not a Muslim,” and, “I am not a socialist.” The super-ego is aggrandized by these actions. On the other side of US party lines, George W. Bush was called “stupid” and a 19 “war-monger.” The subtext here is: “I am not stupid,” and, “I am not a war-monger.” In cementing “what we are not,” we have the same capacity for missing out on personal growth. Efforts to create identity in this fashion are based in extremely negative sentiment and therefore have an even more enhanced possibility for selective reasoning. In these senses, political orientation is reduced to a simple means of embellishing the super-ego. Critical thought is limited, being replaced by social cliques that are superficial. Rather than embracing open analysis and dialogue, a public that embraces party line binaries accepts verbal patronage as a substitute for actual politics. The underlying issue here is that binaries are easy to manufacture and even easier for the public to accept. They are amazingly effective in dividing a population against itself, while overall political policy may remain unchanged. By offering the “fast-food option” of politics, an average constituent need not concern themselves with economics, due process, geography, or history. They can simply allow a herd mentality to distill these concepts for them, reducing complex subjects into non-threatening and repeatable sound bites. The two concepts described above are the “thesis” and “antithesis” of you. Binary lines assist in cementing the concepts of self, even if this is an idea that we are meant to transcend after childhood. Political realities can be terrifying and convoluted, making an acceptance of binaries an easy way to get some sense of traction in global affairs. It is indeed scary to feel a sense of disconnection to anything concrete in politics, and it is due to this fear that the super-ego can feel threatened easily by contrarian dialogue. The “fast-food option” of politics offers a quick way to satiate the needs of the self, but at the expense of long-term growth. 20 The anger we feel toward those with opposing views is, in actuality, fear of losing our own sense of self. While an opposing party may indeed be incorrect, the zeal felt against these individuals often results from a sense of validation we receive personally and not larger humanitarian goals. Relating this back to Barack Obama and George W. Bush, two deeply polarized figures of American politics, we can see such disparity at work. The campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan under President Bush were no doubt egregious tragedies. His critics were adamantly against these wars, the effects of which are painfully obvious to this day. Yet some of the parties in opposition to Bush continually endorse the former presidency of Barack Obama: an official that presided over wars not only in Iraq and Afghanistan but also in Syria, Yemen, Pakistan, Ukraine, and Somalia. The anger felt by those who opposed Bush was not so absolute in their convictions to oppose Obama, likely due to the inability to confront their own super-egos. Confronting one’s own sense of self is an arduous and difficult thing. This is precisely why conveniently labeled party lines exist. By establishing nearly meaningless words to divide the populace, corruption can flourish. A brief quote from George Washington in his 1796 Farewell Address: However [political parties] may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely in the course of time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people and to 21 usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion. What Washington warned against in the above quotation is the potential for political parties to augment herd mentality. Overpowering notions such as these sequester their victims in a rhetorical echo chamber, where beliefs are reinforced regardless of their basis in reality or usefulness. A lie or misunderstanding becomes much more difficult to confront as more and more people repeat it. By finding political validation through such means, actual political reform becomes a distant prospect. Another quote adds to this sentiment, this time attributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald (though the origin is unconfirmed): “​The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.” Politics are deeply tied to psychology and the human condition. While an elevated id may seek to unify civil and social works for the betterment of survival, the super-ego often only serves itself, reducing the content of political or social information to serve preconceived biases. The two most defining aspects of “you” are your thesis and antithesis. Contradictorily, the strongest true incarnation of thesis and antithesis can be obtained through a constant challenging of these identities. Hardline beliefs and convictions are often not as honorable as they may seem. To truly strengthen the self, we must regularly challenge our own convictions, even changing them if need be. We learn as children that it is okay to be wrong, yet as adults we struggle intensely with being fallible. In the realm of politics, we must keep in mind that each incarnation of government is an experiment. Experiments often fail but yield desirable results for the next 22 succession of testing. There is nothing more valuable than being wrong, because it gives each one of us a better direction toward what is right. I have experienced this myself on many occasions, and I am sure I will continue to experience it in the future. Perhaps the most valuable thing we can do from a psycho-social perspective is to understand that we do not have the capacity to understand the struggle of someone else. In doing so, we give each unique personal experience the respect it deserves. Operating in this manner allows for personal growth that can change your perspective, or offer the space and civility needed to change the perspective of someone else. Social, cultural, and political subjects are too dense for you or me to be correct all the time. Accepting the ability to be fallible is the only way to overcome the binaries of super-ego, allowing our thesis and antithesis to become constructive rather than destructive. The best form of these concepts allows for reformation rather than stagnation, a dismissal of long-term political loyalties or alignments. 23 I Am a Nation Humankind is tethered to the need for identity. However, this requirement pervades far more than just individual needs; a nation also needs an identity. Large groups of human beings are just as susceptible to the need for identity as a single person is. Therefore a successful nation must have a successful identity. Hallmarks of national identity are solidified by their national histories, demographics, moral rhetoric, thesis or antithesis, and more. Without national identity a country will find itself splintered, a mass of non-unified individuals that lack social narrative. While political parties serve as the “fast-food option” of politics for constituents, trigger words do the same for national identity. Such words are part of an indoctrinating vocabulary used to instill a default mentality for a population, sterilizing critical thought even from a young age. One such word in the United States is freedom​. One of the first things children learn in the US is that their nation is comprised of free people. The presiding narrative taught spins a tale of repression by the United Kingdom, forcing early colonists to revolt in an effort for inalienable rights. The noble sentiment of this story is glorious indeed and provides a sense of pride to the youth of the USA, which can then be carried well into adulthood. But the issues surrounding this narrative are extremely troubling. While the US may have been founded on freedom from the United Kingdom, the practice of slavery, the breaking of native treaties, westward expansion, and gender-related oppression did not allow for true liberty for all people. As well as this oversight, children are taught this romantic tale of freedom before being taught that critical thought is integral to remaining free. If citizens are taught that they 24 are implicitly “free” at a young age, it may be very difficult later in life to recognize when freedoms are at stake. A sensationalized and romanticized version of freedom is indoctrinated to the youth, rather than teaching the reality that freedom is under constant threat from various factions of entrenched power. Additionally, the noble nature of this origin story is meant to provide a moral high ground for the United States government to act with impunity abroad. No matter the actual reality behind wars spearheaded by the US, there is nearly always a substantial advertisement of “freedom” for the affected nations. The US government therefore uses this trigger word to help justify interventionism on a global level, unilaterally assuming the role of the “freedom giver.” ​Democracy​ is nearly interchangeable with freedom​ in this context, glossing over representational discrepancies in the US for blacks, natives, women, and ex-convicts. This applies equally in terms of domestic policy, where somehow the US is still a global beacon of “freedom” despite its grossly overpopulated prisons, pay-to-play judicial system, or overuse of domestic force as seen in places like Standing Rock, North Dakota, or Ferguson, Missouri. While these actions don’t reflect “freedom,” the US is still seen by many of its citizens as being “free.” Other trigger words assist in defining the antithesis of a nation. Three that invoke an immediate response are ​Nazi​, communist​, and ​terrorist​. Each is associated with its own boogeyman of US history, deeply ingrained in an indoctrinating status-quo education. ​Nazi​ brings up our knowledge of World War II and the Holocaust, ​communism​ brings up the Red Scare and Cold War, and terrorism​ brings up the World Trade Center attacks and wars in the Middle East. In the US these immense events are taught in a way that is categorically simple, not for the purpose of truly informing 25 the populace, but for the purpose of wrapping history up in a manageable package—with a red, white, and blue bow. The statist caricatures of these boogeymen remove the context of their character. In doing this, the human condition is removed from the story of our enemies, emboldening the US as a champion for “freedom” and “democracy.” Important factors contributing to the inception of our enemies are overlooked, which allows for the same mistakes to be repeated. By failing to see the humanity of our enemies, we become unable to see when, or if, the same capacities exist within ourselves. For the Nazis, these may include destructive post World War I legislations like the Treaty of Versailles. This treaty was signed by Germany after war’s end, putting the whole of Europe’s reconstruction on Germany’s back. While this was sound in sentiment, it was not at all realistic. The repercussions of such a decision would shape the rise of the Third Reich. Pressed for money, the German government sold all national assets and industries to other nations, hyper-inflated their currency, and were forced into poverty. The German population sought revolution and a purging of non-German residents, sadly at the expense of innocent people. The established narrative seen today also removes any considerations regarding how Wall Street invested in many German companies during the rise of the Third Reich—and that the United States recruited Nazi scientists after the end of the Second World War. Communism​ became a trigger word after the end of World War II. Even though the Soviets had previously been US allies, they were destined to become the next great boogeyman in opposition to “freedom.” What would follow would be an American reduction of the Soviet role in World War II: A Western system of education that 26 omitted Russia’s decisive victory over the Nazi regime and securing of the Eastern front. Accompanying this would be a revival of American theocracy, emboldening expressions like “In God We Trust,” which also serve as trigger phrases. Rallying behind the nationalist notions of “freedom” and “God,” the United States was able to paint the Soviet Union as a massive threat to US stability. The Soviet government did the same in turn, painting the American public as their mortal enemies. The escalation of these mindsets permitted a proliferation of global pollution, weapons sales, nuclear arsenals, and covert military operations like the world had never seen—completely reshaping the earth into an adversarial dystopian vision. The irony behind this is that both the Soviet and United States governments shared more rhetoric than they cared to acknowledge. For all the disparaging of words like ​communism​ and capitalism​, each government displayed hidden attributes of both. To elaborate on this point, the United States has a publicly funded military with annual expenditures that dwarf any social or economic stimulus programs. By virtue of the military being publicly funded, it is, by definition, somewhat socialist in practice. This is similar to communism, if only in terms of it being a non-democratic state-funded program. The use of US tax dollars for the military is not voluntary in the least, which is the same way the Soviets funded their military. The Soviet Union, by contrast, became extremely classist after World War II, with bureaucrats being treated with an aristocratic pedigree that far exceeded that of the average Russian citizen. These ruling circles were kept small and were, for all intents and purposes, privatized to a specific class of elite—a practice inherently similar to capitalism. Regardless, each respective government used these two trigger words—​capitalism​ and communism​—to garner support from their citizens to distrust a national enemy. Resulting from this would be an average Russian or 27 American individual that would live in fear of a distant boogeyman while paying no mind to the corrupt and often hypocritical conduct of their own governments. Terrorism​ was destined to replace the Red Scare as the primary source of American fear. After the fall of the Twin Towers an endless war against all nations became the accepted mode of operation in US politics, for the supposed purpose of snuffing out terrorists worldwide. What this really meant is that due process would be fully removed from Congress to authorize war, stripping the American people of their representative voice in such affairs. Executive decisions would allow worldwide engagements without congressional oversight, drone strikes with questionable accuracy, and the toppling of regimes that had nothing to do with the 9/11 attacks. The obvious repercussions of such actions would actually end up fueling anti-American sentiment around the world as victims of collateral damage became radicalized. The War on Terror became an engine that manufactured terrorism rather than quelling it, ironically lending credit to its supposed purpose as it made its own enemies. Soon ​terrorism​ became a phrase that could be equally applied to dissident opinion. By immediately drawing forward memories of 9/11, the use of the word ​terrorism​ became an instant way to trigger the national id. In using this word liberally, there is a constant and clear sense of perpetual fear for survival, both personally and nationally. However, the powers that be never examine how to actually stop terrorism, as they ignore the external factors that create radicalized insurgencies. (These will be examined later.) Reducing nuanced subject matter to trigger words is a means of creating popular support for the state. Even critics of government 28 policy play into overall statist goals by simply using these words without proper context. Quite simply, they are meant to control intellectual discourse and assign acceptable margins of dialogue. The language of the system is not designed to dismantle the system; it is designed to strengthen it. Have you ever experienced an individual that intentionally tries to manipulate your emotions? Perhaps they bring up painful memories of yours for the purpose of blinding you with rage. Maybe they flatter you and speak your praises in order to get something they want. Many of us understand manipulative tactics on a personal level, ignoring the same tactics used en masse by entrenched power. These methods are the same in execution, the only difference being that in order to trigger a large group of people, there must be blanket terminology that is widely understood. Words like ​terrorist​, communist​, and​ freedom​ are all applicable to this idea. Political parties serve the exact same notions. ​Democrat ​and ​Republican ​gloss over personal qualifications for government, replacing them with the fast-food option of politics: a streamlined team mentality with little substantive content. Suppose you have two friends that dated one another. (I am certain I am not the only one who has experienced this.) You already know it’s probably a bad idea, but you can’t really stop them. So the relationship blossoms, ages, and eventually becomes toxic. After many painful months for your friends, they finally break up. You still see each of them, but now they can’t be around each other. You have to see them separately. When they speak of each other now it is very negative, even though they used to like or even love one another. You likely ignore negative comments said separately because you know that individually they are both great people. 29 Imagine, though, if you only spoke with one of these friends after the breakup. There is a strong possibility that you would develop biases toward the friend you no longer see, regardless of their actual character. Soon even the mention of their name would begin to trigger negative feelings from you. Party-line politics blind people in the same way, dismissing meaningful conversation or growth from a national perspective. A good legislative policy may be introduced by a party you are opposed to, and you may never realize you actually agree with the platform. Trigger words effectively derail analytical thought, giving precedence to super-egoic emotion. While a nation requires identity to thrive, false identity can be the harbinger of a nation’s destruction. If words are embraced more so than action or analysis, an identity becomes hollow, destined to crack and implode from within. 30 Survival A social species is dependent upon role recognition for survival, and therefore is dependent upon identity. In insect colonies, it is understood amongst the workers that they are meant to gather food, soldier ants fight enemies or pillage rival clans, the queen bee exists to reproduce. Even though these identities are not as developed as what is seen in human cognition, they are relevant all the same. To control a society, one must control the senses of identity applicable to others. This explains easily why things like politics, entertainment, gender identity, race, and religion are controlled so tightly by governing trigger words and categories. Actual individuality is a threat to entrenched power. It is not only pleasing to individuals to categorize themselves, but it also serves to perpetuate both civility and entrenched power. The individual requires a definite identity for psychological survival, and the state requires its constituents to remain within specified margins for their identities. The survival component of the human psyche is inseparable from politics. Attacks on the super-ego can easily translate to the id, where they can influence aggressive behavior from an individual. Emotions associated with the super-ego are quick to activate, often overriding critical thought. It takes time for the brain to methodically gather information and translate it into a complex and realistic view of an event, rather than jumping to immediate and emotional conclusions. It comes as no surprise that political media outlets posture themselves in dramatic environments. Everything from the choice of wording in a headline, the hardline pundits chosen to debate, the adventuresome music, and the alarmist content are designed to invoke immediate emotional responses. The fast-paced, 31 often adversarial setting of media coverage supplements party-line trigger words, relying on knee-jerk emotional reactions to undermine informative research. The same can be said for many politicians who lean upon campaign slogans, boogeymen, or dramatic portrayals of their opponents. Emotions take shape very quickly, and that is why they are used in mass political manipulation. Offering easy forms of identification allows the state to patronize constituents with definitions of self that are superficial. It is intimidating to learn the intricacies of politics. It is also easy to be ignorant regarding current events. The average citizen wishes to be informed, but not so informed as to shake their definition of self. Out of this reality, the state is able to place margins upon dialogue, affiliation, and political evolution. Binaries such as “conservative” and “liberal” lose their meaning, disrupting important etymologies that help to articulate social issues. As an example: If someone says they are a “conservative” regarding gun ownership in the US, it is implied that they want less government regulation of firearms. A “liberal” counterpoint would be the stance that firearms should be more regulated. Yet these words have become empty and betray their own meaning. By definition, conservative gun rhetoric would imply that there should be ​more​ laws that regulate firearm ownership. Liberal gun rhetoric would suggest that regulations should be removed or lessened. In the etymological sense, the word ​conservative​ means to initiate more control, while ​liberal​ means to relinquish control. The glossing over of these terms in lieu of sensationalized party-line politics allows for quick emotional responses to complex social issues. Quick emotional identifiers like this are menial ways for a government to assure the presence of identity margins amongst its 32 citizens. If one can quickly identify as a conservative or liberal, they can bypass the time needed to look into or explain larger concepts. An identity like this is cosmetic at best, a castrated version of true civic understanding and self. Citizens soon lose the powers of language, critical thought, upward mobility, education, and revolution. Ironically, these lost powers are the true prerequisites for long-term national survival. The great climb to the top of the food chain was no easy task for humanity. I often think how humbling it is to live right now—after thousands and thousands of years of the short and perilous lives my ancestors led. In developed nations we have easy access to food, water, hygienic needs, and entertainment; not to mention a life span that is twice as long as in the nineteenth century. But what is truly astonishing is how this reality came to be. Revolution has been the key to our success as the dominant species of earth—not only political revolutions, but agricultural revolutions, technological revolutions, and philosophical revolutions. Every modern amenity and necessity has been created by the human ability to revolt against prior systems and power. The transition from hunter-gatherer lifestyles into stable agriculture was, at the time, countercultural. Though this is conjectural, it is entirely likely that during this transition there may have been opposition from those in charge of hunting parties who knew that their roles were in jeopardy. Yet without this massive shift in social conduct, there would’ve been no way for humanity to grow. For many societies, improving literacy amongst the commoners was a revolution. Countless civilizations kept their constituents in the dark by keeping them illiterate, thereby consolidating state power for long durations. The idea of educating more people to read and write 33 was a revolution of gigantic proportions, opposed by an endless list of autocratic governments. Everything from the typewriter to the internet, the transition from horses to automobiles, the study of anatomy to complex surgeries, have all been revolutions. Each of these was countercultural upon their inception, opposed and mocked before they changed the entire world. In this way, it can be surmised that revolution is the only true key to prolonged survival. The psyche can be easily manipulated, but there is a way to prevent it. Tradition embellishes the super-ego, while revolution challenges it. To prevent manipulation of the psyche, one must abandon tradition and embrace revolution. Mind you, this doesn’t mean you can’t celebrate your favorite holiday or family event. It simply means that the world you were born into is meant to change, nostalgia isn’t always as great as we remember it, and we must never accept our current setting as the best it could be. What has been described above shows two important concepts regarding survival. We are programmed with the urge to survive. Because of this, emotions regarding survival are easily hijacked and used to subjugate the masses. Realistically this urge to survive has, at its worst, allowed for long-standing political corruption. At its best it has permitted countless revolutions, elevating humankind to unprecedented global dominance. The survival urge is motivated by fear—fear of death, fear for the safety of one’s family, fear for one’s job, or home, or country. It is how this fear is dealt with that determines if it will end in corruption or revolution. If we trust in tradition to protect us from our fears, it ends with corruption. If we trust in revolution to protect us from our fears, it ends with solutions. 34 Notes I would like to take this time to articulate further the concepts of identity. Without a doubt, these intangible ideas about “who we are” have literally shaped the world around us. But as exclaimed in this chapter, identity is not a simple concept to describe. It is flexible, various, and dependent on an array of external factors. There are three additional variations on identity that should be noted, each capable of shifting their surrounding styles of governance and status quo. The first is the idea of collective identity. While this has been explained in terms of political parties, it also exists in the post-European enlightenment concepts of worker’s unions and classism. A collective identity assists in the mobilization of its constituents, for the purpose of obtaining justice and collective rights. This is a very important idea that was needed to remove top-down authoritative systems like monarchies or feudal systems. In top-down authoritative systems like these, the land and its people were owned by the lords and royals that presided over said lands. The acquisition of property and the wealth reaped from said property were not retained by its discoverers or its workers, but instead considered an asset belonging to the regional magistrate or monarch. As a result, citizens were not very free to discuss common desires or needs. Their collective identity was cut and dry, each individual a simple working extension of their governing powers. The idea that workers and collective groups should be able to own property and retain wealth was a revolutionary concept, and one that demanded an understanding throughout large groups of individuals. This understanding is the formative concept behind the political 35 power of the working class, economic mobility, liberal democracy, and representative politics. Through the recognition of common identities, the workers and classes of the world were able to set forth needs and demands that had to be met by their employers and governments, balancing the scales of power between themselves and their superiors. Collective identity in this form is progressive and still very much needed. The second form of identity is that of social stature. Because of our social nature, human beings desire the feeling of being useful or needed. This is applicable in many different ways. We may find validation through being a parent or teacher, through making the money to support our families, or through superficial items that celebrate our status. When we label ourselves by occupation, familial surroundings, accomplishments, or possessions, we are often satiating our needs for identity. Parents often take pride in their ability to nurture, jobs can make us feel as though we are included or needed in society, and expensive items are frequently used to illustrate social value visibly. What is interesting about this concept is how it functions along with classism and entertainment culture. In terms of classism, the lower and middle classes may find their needs for social stature satisfied by providing for their families and enabling survival. But for the more affluent members of society, day-to-day or year-to-year survival is not of primary concern. Their quest for social stature may become more superficial. As such we see the upper class flaunting large homes, designer handbags, expensive cars, or fine jewelry. Many also seek rare experiences or showcases—a vacation to the most remote place on earth or the world’s largest coin collection—to make themselves stand out socially. These templates have been the traditional idea behind social identification. However, entertainment culture has influenced these 36 models in a profound way. In developed nations there is a significant desire by the lower and middle classes to appear as though they have higher social stature, by leasing or buying material goods on credit to ​ ore upper class. This illustrates how incredibly important feel m social identity is. Finally, identity rests in the form of true individuality. In formative cultures throughout history, there has been limited room for true individuality. In tribal societies, egalitarian societies, or communist societies, the success of the individual is tied to the success of all. To depart to find one’s own true meaning would be selfish in these terms, and often such a foreign concept that it was not even considered. (Mind you this is a very wide generalization; many indigenous cultures have had their own concepts of true individuality and self.) For other societies, feudal, monarchic, or dynastic, the success of the individual was tied to the success of the ruling class. This has also stunted the abilities and desires for true individuality. Taking the time to consider, “Who am I?” “How am I different?” or “What do I believe?” took the proverbial backseat to serving one’s society. The European Enlightenment and French Revolution would ultimately dispose of these shackles, principally replacing them with ideas that each individual has an entitlement to self-discovery and identification. There are several important precedents that laid the foundation for these concepts. After the conclusion of the French Revolution, the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen would begin to shape the new world of liberal democracy. This document was created by Emmanuel Joseph Sieyès, Marquis de Lafayette, and Thomas Jefferson, solidifying the natural rights of 37