The Politics of 'Outrage'

In 1993, while still living in Belfast, I received a phone call from a Member of the UK Parliament, offering to help me with the fact that I was not being offered a student grant as I began my time as an undergraduate.  The MP was gracious and helpful, and although he was unable to do anything that changed my financial circumstances, I was grateful for the personal attention he had given my case.  I had no further dealings with him, but he was always a highly visible presence in the constituency, frequently seen in town, and in the media.

Two years later, the London-based Gay Rights activist group Outrage!, led by Peter Tatchell, announced that it had written to 20 MPs whom it believed to be closeted gay men, and who also had supported anti-gay political measures.  Outrage! threatened the MPs with being publicly outed if they did not acknowledge their sexuality, and, presumably disavow their public homophobia.

Shortly after this announcement, the main local newspaper in Northern Ireland printed a front page story to the effect that they knew that one of the MPs who received Outrage's letter was a local man.  On that day, the MP who had tried to help with my student funding case died of a heart attack on board a train in England.  Outrage! never carried out its plan to name the other 19, and I have always assumed that this was a direct result of my MP's death, although some have suggested that the letters were always an empty threat to gain publicity.

Peter Tatchell has been a human rights activist since he was a teenager, fighting for justice for Aboriginal peoples, and more recently being beaten to the point of brain damage by Robert Mugabe's bodyguards as he tried to address the horror of that man's legacy in Zimbabwe.  He has opinions with which I strongly disagree, but the personal courage and commitment he has brought to a range of issues has to be acknowledged.

Last week, Kirby Dick's new polemic film, also called 'Outrage', opened in limited release in the US.  I haven't seen it yet, but it is being marketed as the DC version of the 1995 letter campaign - I imagine it may be more nuanced than that, but for the next few days, in hopes of having a discussion here, I'll post some questions that might be relevant.  I'll see the film as soon as I can.

So, first questions: Is it ever right to expose someone's consensual private life?  What should the public response be to political representatives who endorse homophobic legislation or refuse to challenge homophobia, but who are later found to be involved in same-sex activity?  Is this simply hypocrisy, worthy only of condemnation and public ridicule, or could it be more complicated than that?

'Star Trek' Haiku

Now Spock cries. Kirk flirts.

Time loops create new options.

Movie's pretty good.

It really is, actually.  JJ Abrams knows how to keep an audience's attention, the black hole/time warp device is a stroke of genius, allowing the story to start from scratch while also making space for old Spock to make a return visit, the design (sound, image, costumes, everything) is as well-crafted as an IM Pei building, the performances feel like real acting rather than camp, and there's real pleasure in seeing what you thought you knew being genuinely re-invented.

Sure, the narrative hangs on a superficial revenge thread (one of these days we're going to see a Romulan/Klingon deal with grief by reaching out to their friends rather than committing genocide), and the need to establish the characters means there's less room for mystery.  But that's what sequels are for.  I didn't expect to be saying this, but 'Star Trek' is one of the best mainstream large-scale adventure films I've seen in ages.

Thank you, Fox News

Yesterday, under the headline 'Obama's Apology Tour', FoxNews.com, in typical sneering style, published the following story [alas, they did not opt to print my not always entirely serious commentary alongside, which I have included below in parentheses]:

“During the 2008 presidential race, then-President George W. Bush took heat for seeming to criticize Barack Obama as an appeaser during an address to Israel's parliament. [He didn't just seem to criticize.  It was an outrageous, dishonest, and inaccurate speech.]

It was considered poor form to take shots, direct or indirect, at a U.S. dignitary while overseas.  [I posted it about this at the time here]

But since taking office, Obama has made a habit of using overseas podiums to delicately jab at his predecessor by apologizing and expressing regret for American behavior in recent years.  [Can we allow for the possibility that he is apologising because he believes in the apology.]

While the move could yield diplomatic fruit by easing tensions between the U.S. and nations that felt sidelined during the Bush administration, Republicans have also criticized the president for using the world stage to scold his own country.  [The deniers within the Roman Empire had a similar problem.  Just before it collapsed.]

The following is a list, in reverse chronological order, of the Obama administration's overseas apologies and clarifications to date:

April 18: "We have at times been disengaged, and at times we sought to dictate our terms. But I pledge to you that we seek an equal partnership. There is no senior partner and junior partner in our relations." [Thank God]

April 16: "Too often, the United States has not pursued and sustained engagement with our neighbors. We have been too easily distracted by other priorities and have failed to see that our own progress is tied directly to progress throughout the Americas. My administration is committed to renewing and sustaining a broader partnership between the United States and the hemisphere on behalf of our common prosperity and our common security."  [Perhaps we'll get some common security then.]

April 6: "I know there have been difficulties these last few years. I know that the trust that binds us has been strained, and I know that strain is shared in many places where the Muslim faith is practiced. Let me say this as clearly as I can: the United States is not at war with Islam." [Why Fox News would consider this a troubling statement is troubling itself.]

April 3: "In America, there's a failure to appreciate Europe's leading role in the world. Instead of celebrating your dynamic union and seeking to partner with you to meet common challenges, there have been times where America has shown arrogance and been dismissive, even derisive. But in Europe, there is an anti-Americanism that is at once casual but can also be insidious. Instead of recognizing the good that America so often does in the world, there have been times where Europeans choose to blame America for much of what's bad. On both sides of the Atlantic, these attitudes have become all too common. They are not wise. ... They threaten to widen the divide across the Atlantic and leave us both more isolated." [Mercy.  I'm beginning to see a theme here.]

April 2: "It is true, as my Italian friend has said, that the (economic) crisis began in the U.S. I take responsibility, even if I wasn't even president at the time." [What are we to do?  A President who takes credit where it's really due?  Soon we'll have bank CEOs who screwed up actually resigning...]

April 2: "I would like to think that with my election and the early decisions that we've made, that you're starting to see some restoration of America's standing in the world." [You'll get no arguments from me here - but let's take it one step at a time.]

April 1: "If you look at the sources of this crisis, the United States certainly has some accounting to do with respect to a regulatory system that was inadequate." [This is getting repetitive.]

March 25: "I feel very strongly we have a co-responsibility (for drug-fueled violence in Mexico). ... Our insatiable demand for illegal drugs fuels the drug trade. Our inability to prevent weapons from being illegally smuggled across the border to arm these criminals causes the deaths of police officers, soldiers and civilians."- Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, en route to Mexico City [If we're not careful what might be about to happen could look something like an honest assessment of the interdependency of the post-globalised world.  Maybe even a recognition that human beings need each other, whatever their national identity.]

Jan. 26: "All too often the United States starts by dictating ... and we don't always know all the factors that are involved. So let's listen. And I think if we do that, then there's a possibility at least of achieving some breakthroughs. ... My job to the Muslim world is to communicate that the Americans are not your enemy. We sometimes make mistakes. We have not been perfect." [I hope that this self-evaluation includes adequate provision of free crisis therapy for people whose sense of identity depends on threatening others.  If they can get over the initial shock that their President doesn't sound like a schoolground bully, you never know.  We might find ourselves with a measurable reduction in real world violence.  What on earth would we do with that?]

The Obama administration has also expressed plenty of regret stateside as it rolls back some of Bush's counter-terrorism policies. The president, for instance, acknowledged potential "mistakes" as he addressed CIA employees April 20 and discussed his ban of enhanced interrogation techniques.

"Don't be discouraged that we have to acknowledge potentially we've made some mistakes. That's how we learn," Obama said.”

That's where the Fox News story ended; and from my perspective, it was a childish, analysis-free attempt at making the President look weak, not credible journalism but instead a slightly softened Sean Hannity version of a Letterman Top Ten List.  It would be far better if Fox News (or in fact, any of the large MSM websites) could evaluate the history of attempts at reducing tension through expressing regret.  President Kennedy's speech at the end of the Cuban Missile Crisis is perhaps the best example of US diplomacy taking the moral high ground of humility, asking what the country could learn from its enemies, rather than merely threatening attack, and quite possibly saving the world from nuclear war as a result.  This story needs to be told and re-told, I believe, if the new times we're living in are to be understood.  At the risk of sounding arrogant, there's much that hasn't impressed me about the new administration - quick to launch air strikes, not exactly the most radical choices for the Cabinet, and, frankly, the Rahm Emmanuel swears-a-lot jokes are getting a bit tired, Mr President.  But letting the rest of the world know that the US wants to be friendly again, and that it understands both that friendship is  a two way street, and that two wrongs don't make a right, may just be the most we could ask for right now.

And in that regard, perhaps Fox News has done us a service, as I’m reminded that, a couple of thousand years ago, someone else uttered the following statement:

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

So, thank you, Fox News, for reminding us of the vital role of humility in the process of earning credibility in the eyes of the world.  You've done a great service to diplomacy.

More on Tabloid Forgiveness

(For the first part of this thought, click here.)

At this point in our history, a serious conversation about the meaning of forgiveness would be welcome.  I suspect that what Mrs Carroll may mean when she says she can't forgive is that she is not ready to embrace the people who have taken her life partner away.  Yet the most mature academic and psychological work on forgiveness suggests that it is a continuum rather than an act, and that popular perceptions of forgiveness are profoundly superficial.  As with the fight or flight syndrome, the widely accepted notion is that a person victimised through violence or other oppression has two choices: forceful revenge or sentimental embrace.  Some of the print and broadcast media appear to like both: total war for the tabloids, and tearful sentiment for the talk shows.  They want people to express outrage, threaten retribution, and be hugging Oprah by sundown.

But I think it has to be said that embracing the person responsible for murder or grievous injury is not just too much to ask, especially in the early stages of grief, it's actually psychologically damaging.  A person needs to be able to grieve and begin to accept the loss or the wound before confronting the power that caused it - otherwise the danger of re-victimisation is all too real. On the other hand, revenge is supposed to be channeled or at least limited by an accountable criminal justice system.

Neither of these ideas accurately represents what happens in practice.  For one thing, the public justice system often includes some form of retribution, and victims are invited - by the media, and other communal mavens - to seek vengeance. The idea of  a system that allows for the possibility of rehabilitation, reducing repeat offences, and at the risk of sounding sentimental, restoration - what some people might call, with highly accurate simplicity 'good coming out of a bad situation' - is not exactly high on the list of political priorities.

There's an obvious question at the heart of all of this: What is really going on when a tabloid-style newspaper asks a grieving widow, less than a month after her husband's murder, whether not she forgives the people who killed him, when the tabloid vision of forgiveness is ultimately impossible?

Can't we do better than this?  How could we begin to have a public conversation that does all three of the following: humanises the parties involved, takes violence seriously, and doesn't re-victimise people who are already suffering?  How can a print and broadcast media obsessed with the idea that conflict pays be weaned toward writing front page articles that enhance the dignity of both the victim and the reader?

Roger Ebert's Death. Mine, too...And, if you don't want to feel left out: Yours as well.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUZ1hjn_9Ds]

Watch this before you read this post. Trust me - it will make you feel better.

Roger Ebert is more than a writer about film - a good critic realises that understanding any art form requires more than a technical proficiency in explaining cinematography or editing or acting.  The best critics know a little bit about everything - or those of us trying to be good critics tell ourselves that we do, and if we're lucky or humble we don't sound like idiots when we do it.  We write about movies (which for people who care about cinema is really the same thing as writing about life) as human beings; we watch as human beings; we hope to have our experience of being human explained to us, or made easier when we watch.  Ebert is not only the best-known contemporary film critic; he's also one of the most humane.  This makes him, for me at least, a whole critic; skeptical but not cynical; wondering, but not naive.  His recent illness, leaving him unable to speak, seems to have led to a massive creative outpouring - thousands and thousands of words on current releases, books on Scorsese and Great Movies, and a web journal that has inspired the post that you're reading now.

Earlier this week he wrote:

I know it is coming, and I do not fear it, because I believe there is nothing on the other side of death to fear. I hope to be spared as much pain as possible on the approach path. I was perfectly content before I was born, and I think of death as the same state. What I am grateful for is the gift of intelligence, and for life, love, wonder, and laughter. You can't say it wasn't interesting. My lifetime's memories are what I have brought home from the trip. I will require them for eternity no more than that little souvenir of the Eiffel Tower I brought home from Paris.

He doesn't think he's going to die any time soon, but at 66 he knows that soon is relative.  He illustrates his post with images of van Gogh's paintings, extracts from Whitman's poetry, a couple of squares from a Tin Tin comic.  He quotes Vincent:

Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map. Why? I ask myself, shouldn't the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France? Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star. We cannot get to a star while we are alive any more than we can take the train when we are dead. So to me it seems possible that cholera, tuberculosis and cancer are the celestial means of locomotion. Just as steamboats, buses and railways are the terrestrial means. To die quietly of old age, would be to go there on foot.

I'm 34 years old, and so I know far less about both life and movies than Mr Ebert; I don't particularly fear death, although I do think about it a lot.  You can't be fully in this world and not be confronted by it daily.  The earthquake or the suicide bomb or the flu pandemic (or the pandemic of mass hysteria-induced flu pandemic stories) mingle with the individual examples of friends struggling with illness, of elderly people going to what we call 'a good death', aged and content, or younger friends fighting whatever steamboat, bus or railway threatens to take them earlier than we feel is just.  We're surrounded by death; or at least our popular culture appears wedded to it as the most important fact of life - partly because it seems measurable, and partly because the commercial media has learned that people will pay to see it.  We're surrounded by death, and it can become overwhelming.  The trick, as Lawrence of Arabia would say, is not minding.

I'm more and more convinced that a whole life requires us to finding ways of offering something that transcends the fear of death that drives so much of our culture.  My friend John O'Donohue, who died last year, was forever talking about how we need to learn to help people die when their time has come; he saw it as a sacred privilege to be there when a person is dying, to hold their hand, to assure them that nothing frightening is waiting for them.  And so, in the last moments of their lives, some people perhaps capture something that we could do with more of right now: getting over the fear of death.  One of the things that helps me is the fact that I can't deny the fact that John has felt present to me after his death.  He's gone, of course, in one very real sense.  But part of me thinks he might even be reading this post.  Like I said, when it comes to the fear of death, the trick is not minding.

My friend John, who keeps teaching me not to fear death.

Mr Ebert doesn't seem to mind.  I think I mind - or have minded - too much.  I've allowed the social necrophilia of a death-obsessed culture to give me my cues for life.  I've been, at times, the philosophical version of Woody Allen's character in 'Hannah and her Sisters' - so afraid of what's going to kill me that I forget that I'm alive.  Movies and other art lost their power to lift me up some time ago; or perhaps I just mislaid the ability to let them do their work.  Mr Ebert's post seems like an antidote.  His words always seem to occupy a third way between ignorance and cynicism: on this occasion he's saying that he knows he's going to die, but he won't let a little thing like that get in the way of happiness.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFyl4GxBzEw]

A Good Death

It leaves me wanting to acknowledge that one day, my body will slow right down, it will get lighter, and stop working.  One day, I will see a film for the last time.  One day, I will experience, for the last time, mowing the lawn, or drinking coffee, or feeling the warmth of the sun.  And then it will be gone.  A lot of people, some of them very smart people, think that I will live on, consciously, not just the same Gareth but even more Gareth than I've ever been, throughout eternity.  On the other hand, of course, a lot of people, some of them very smart people too, think that I will exist only in the memories of people who knew me.  Maybe we'll talk about those arguments another day.  For now, I don't feel morbid writing these words.  In fact, I'm smiling.  Because even though I used to be certain of an afterlife, and now am unsure; even though I used to believe as deeply  as I could be that there is an utterly good ground of all being that we call 'God' undergirding everything in the universe, I'm no longer sure that such an idea belongs in the category of belief; even though I am still convinced of the consolations of good religion for life on earth, I think Roger Ebert, a whole critic, may have named for me what we are all approaching, whether on foot or by train:

I know it is coming, and I do not fear it, because I believe there is nothing on the other side of death to fear.

Some music to play when thinking about death with a smile on your face:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FniHgiyaTY]

And some more.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZJxL3PrrLM]