7.1 Protect the hope continuum from tribal division
In my first years as an activist, I preached a gospel of hope, big hope, capital-H Hope.
I believed that we could save ourselves. I was convinced we could fix whatever was wrong with our society and our environment. And we could fix whatever was wrong with us humans, too.
If someone didn’t believe in my kind of salvation hope, I didn’t want to know them…
The person I was back then would definitely not want to know the person I am now.
Why did I keep myself at a distance from nonbelievers? Because…
I was scared.
What if they’re contagious?
What if my belief is not as strong as I think it is?
What happens to me if I lose hope?
Will my friends turn their backs on me?
Will I be alone?
When I lost hope, I did in fact lose people. I haven’t ended up alone, but I have lost people. And I miss them, but I get it.
Hope is such a powerful force. Such a sweet force. It lifts our spirits. It keeps us going against the odds. So why would we ever want to give it up? Well, we wouldn’t.
But as the crises we’re facing multiply and deepen, it seems to me it’s getting harder and harder to hold onto hope. Even some people who have loved hope are going to lose it.
Which brings us to this problem. We humans are compulsively divisive. We make divisions between us and them over politics, race, religion, sports, so many things. We can do that, too, with the issue of hope, and I do not want to see that happen…
I do not want to see long-term friendships fail.
And…
I do not want to see once-solid working relationships fracture.
And, most especially…
I do not want to see intimate partners break up because they have different views about the future.
It seems to me, there are five segments on the hope continuum:
1. Steadfast believers.
They have a deeply rooted sense of hope that sustains them day by day, rain or shine.
2. Sometimes believers.
There are days when they believe and days when they don’t.
3. Agnostics.
They focus on their work to make the world a better place and don’t think about whether hope is true or not.
4. Half-and-half folks.
They believe that major societal collapse is coming, but have small-h hope that some reduced version of humanity might survive and even thrive.
5. Steadfast non-believers.
People like me who believe we’re going to crash through collapse into extinction.
Activist work is so hard and the issues we confront are so overwhelming that we can get loaded up with distress. And what do we do with that distress? We can deal with it directly ourselves, by doing our own inner work, especially doing that with the support of fellow activists.
But it’s also possible, and very human of us, to take out our distress on other people. Especially those close at hand. It’s possible for us to give ourselves permission to complain about someone or attack them just because they’re on the other side of a boundary, for example just because they’re in a different segment on the hope continuum.
And that is not okay. Because, in this dark moment in human history, it’s just simply a fact that…
We need each other like never before.
Now let me do some fine tuning. Here’s a perspective for bridging divisions that I find helpful. It’s based on four categories…
1. Passive believers.
These are people who believe in hope but do no activist work. A guy I know told me he’s sure technological innovation will put a stop to climate change and save us. Since he’s not a techie, he feels fine about not engaging in any activism at all.
2. Proactive believers.
These are people who passionately believe in hope, but the way they see it, there’s no free lunch. If you want hope to come true you have to put in the work. You have to incarnate it through your daily labor. It’s a sweat-equity kind of thing. So these folks are engaged activists.
3. Passive nonbelievers.
A woman I know told me, “I agree it’s over for us, so I just focus on having whatever fun I can have in the time I have left.” A former activist I once admired thinks we’re doomed, but he’s slipped so far into depression that he has no fun at all, and really no life.
3. Proactive nonbelievers.
These are people like me. I believe we don’t have a prayer, and yet I find activism to be a good way to live. The best. I’m passionate about making things better. I’m not an activist in the way I used to be when I believed in hope, but I am a dedicated post-hope activist. And I’m a much fiercer advocate for humanity now than I used to be when I was working so hard to save us.
What matters to me isn’t whether a person believes in hope or not, but whether someone is proactive. I understand those who have given up on fighting for a future, but…
I have a special place in my heart for those who fight.
I have more in common with a proactive person who champions hope, than a passive drop-out who’s a nonbeliever. It’s in our commitment to activism that we can find common ground across a boundary.
And if we do what it takes to dissolve the boundaries between the five segments, that means…
We’ll all get to have more allies and more friends.
PS:
In case you’re interested, here’s a dialogue between Noah and Abby, one a believer in hope and the other not, as they decide to work together.
