How to change society without changing people
My first blog post of the year shared how the new year marked a transition from my long held belief that the way of having a positive impact on society was to change the minds of people who were (in my view) behaving badly. Having abandoned the strategy that was the driving force for the past decade of my life, I entered 2023 in a bit of a haze trying to figure out what to do now that this belief had been put to rest. I still wanted to change society, but I wasn’t sure how.
The two cliché approaches I tried first were to a) change myself and b) change public policy. Neither of which are bad ideas, but neither of which left me feeling fulfilled. I still plan to pursue both, primarily the former. It was a third approach, counter-intuitive but also obvious that has stuck: Help others.
There is a massive difference between helping people and changing them, one comes from an attitude of service and the other from condescension. The part that has tripped me up is that in my view the people who need help are not the ones causing society’s problems. They’re not the people in power, they are usually the people oppressed by the ones in power. So instead of going to those in power and using every varying ways of saying ‘stop it,’ I am going to those who are struggling and asking ‘how can I help?’
The foolish thing, which I have done without giving it much thought for the past decade, is thinking there is a third group, the so-called ‘middle class.’ Thinking that I somehow stand outside of the problem, looking in on those in power hurting those without, but not being directly involved in the matter. This can be described as the luxury of privilege, but it is not real. As Howard Zinn put it, “You can’t be neutral on a moving train.”
I’m not alone in this uncomfortable middle class misconception, thinking I’m far from those in power, far from the wealthy and also far from the poor and powerless. Now that I’ve seen the fault in my prior approach, I’m wondering if these labels are even useful.
In one way or another to one person or another in one situation or another, we are at times both the oppressed and the oppressor, the powerful and the powerless. In reality, there is just us. As much as I have been tempted to put overpaid CEOs, corrupt politicians, campaign financiers, corporate lobbyists and just about everyone with a net worth above $1,000,000 in the ‘oppressor’ group and everyone who’s means are insufficient to meet their basic needs in the ‘oppressed’ camp, it’s not that simple. Worse, it implies that the vast majority of Americans are bystanders. Society is not a spectacle with most of us sitting on the sidelines.
Going down this road opens a can of interesting philosophical discussions that I am not inclined to explore with this blog post. My point is that this is a complicated issue and most simplifications don’t hold true for long. Rather than diving into the depths of theory, the practical conclusion is to avoid generalizations and the false us/them divide.
I wish all forms of oppression would stop, but I think stopping it is not something any individual or even a group of people are capable of. Having spent most of my life in giant corporations and universities who preach about individual capacity to ‘change the world,’ this is a tough pill to swallow. There is not a slick invention or well-written policy that will make everything better. Instead, I’m left with the humble option of trying to help, or perhaps just accompany, a handful of people while the overall picture doesn’t change or possibly gets worse.
For me, it’s most helpful to let go of the view that the world is so broken and people can be so awful - regardless of any truth it may hold. Letting go of this giant rock on my shoulders and realizing I’m just one of billions of drops living on the rock’s surface is a big dose of humility.
The beauty is in the small things, starting with what I choose to notice and think about - can I focus on the fact I am writing this post while sitting outside on a sunny spring day surrounded by lush green trees, or should I focus on the traffic noise and neighbor’s disruptive chainsaw? If I can draw my attention to the positive, can I then speak and act in a similar way, choosing to say nice things and help my friends and neighbors? Or should I grumble about the debt ceiling and war in Ukraine? I don’t mean to minimize the travesty of war, it is truly awful. The difference, as best stated in the Serenity Prayer, is to know the difference between what I can and cannot change. My task is not to end the war myself or somehow persuade those waging it to stop, but to at least offer support to my refugee neighbors.
I’ve started helping others over the past few months, volunteering with some local organizations, and it has been incredibly fulfilling. At the same time, I have to find the humility to accept that the difference I can make will not change society on its own. I’m grateful to have a newfound sense of purpose and do the best I can to be there for those around me. How things play out on a societal scale is not up to me, but if I can have a positive impact on my small scope of influence, then what more could I ask for? And if we all pull together, anything is possible.