As summer approaches, I found myself reflecting on last winter. Seasons have changed, but it seems it all stays the same.
As I have an internal conflict on whether I should write this, I have an internal conflict about whether I should post it too. I have watched people fighting on social media over different political views for years, and I've seen many close relationships get permanently fractured. While I struggle to join the loud and dissonant voices, I think of the value of my very own and very singular opinion.
Those who are more familiar with my background know I was born under a dictatorial military regime, and it deeply affected my family's life. And it is that experience that tells me that I should feel right to say my piece.
I refuse to accept that in the 21st century, we still believe in a binary world where there are only two options available: left or right. Being left or right is the same as good or evil, depending on where you and others stand on the political spectrum.
It all started with left or right, then it became far-right against far-left. Pushed so far on the polar opposites, what to say about everything in between?
I can't agree with people who say that they stand against intolerance while at the same time they dismiss people's different points of view by simply calling them ignorant. You can't fight discrimination with prejudice, and every time you push someone into a corner, remember that you are pushing yourself into the opposite corner as well. And more polarized and dangerous the world becomes.
I can't stand the patronizing and self-righteous attitude of educated people who don't understand where the discontent of others come from and believe they can solve the world's problem by lecturing others on what's right or wrong. All of a sudden, we all became experts in politics. And we see enemies everywhere.
I can't stop thinking to myself: What have we done? How did we get here?
That reminded me of John Steinbeck's book, The Winter Of Our Discontent. The novel wrote it in the '60s in America, and the last that Steinbeck completed before his death in 1968, is a study on American moral degeneration and a deeply penetrating look into the American condition. It is a story of greed, delusion, and dishonesty in Eisenhower's America, and it is a brutally pessimistic commentary on the American Dream. The book follows the main character's story, Ethan Hawley, who succumbs to the pressures around him, his subsequent moral corruption, and the lengths to which one must attain success.
Steinbeck's novel finds many parallels with current issues. But it isn't happening in America only. We might have been too busy looking at our digital screens for the last decades, but one of the thing Covid brought out into the open is that the world has lost its compass.
I'm not talking about "moral compass," at least not from a conservative perspective. The compass I'm talking about is the truth and the principles. When the truth isn't the truth anymore, principles lose relevance, and we lose direction.
One can say that truth is relative, and it depends on each one's perspective. I would say yes! And that's the challenge and the beauty of it. When looking for the truth, one can't ignore or dismiss, other's perspective.
Education or resentment shouldn't be overlooked, but one isn't more real than the other. Algorithms filter and select content for us, or we block people on social media with different options– we have been hunkered down long before Covid. Locked in our own bubbles, we seek a truth that fits us only. One-sided, flat and single truth.
A misinformed and ignorant comment on social media can be infuriating. But what to say about patronizing replies from alleged educated people? Actually, if anything, I think the intellectual elite has the moral responsibility to elevate the conversation instead of shutting people down.
Is it always going to work? Probably not, but where do we go if we stay away from principles? Just like the truth, principles are a life's compass. I know how outdated this might sound, and yet…
We are all disillusioned and discontent. The world isn't what we thought it could be, and once we had to stop, we had to face it. We haven't thought about “we” in a long time – maybe ever – and now we blame others for the mess we all made together.
We can blame anything we want. The economy, Trump, Obama, America, Brexit, Bolsonaro, Lula, Putin, social media. Greed. And then we can look for someone to save us because we think it isn't our responsibility. To me, the unquestionable truth is that it's only our fault.
In Shakespeare’s Richard III, from where Steinbeck took the Winter Of Our Discontent title, the character talks about a promising future, a glorious summer that is about to begin.
As summer approaches, I find myself wondering if, at last, is this the winter of our discontent?