***
I
know it may be difficult to remember those now idyllic times before
the endless news cycle revolved around the tweets of a certain
horrible person turned celebrity turned president, but that world did
exist. If you happened to love obscure news, you may have noticed a
social experiment in December 2014. The City Reporter, a
Russian news website, decided to publish only good news for one day.
They teased the experiment by asking, “Do you feel like you are
surrounded by negative information? You don't want to read the news
in the morning? … Do you think good news is a myth? We'll try to
prove the opposite tomorrow!” And they did. They featured positive
headlines, like, "No disruption on the roads despite snow.”
They made announcements of mundane progress, celebrating “that an
underpass would be built in time … .”
The
result was overwhelming, but not positive. The website lost about 2/3
of its readers that day. The deputy editor reflected, “We
looked for positives in the day's news, and we think we found them, …
. But it looks like almost nobody needs them."
(https://www.bbc.com/news/blogs-news-from-elsewhere-30318261
) There’s a popular
narrative that news outlets drive negativity, that consumers are
hungry for something positive but just can’t get it. The trouble
was that, when The
City Reporter went
out of their way to report good news, the people went looking
for bad news.
Earlier
that same year, in March 2014, Marc Trussler of Vanderbilt and Stuart
Soroka of McGill universities, wrote about “Consumer Demand for
Cynical and Negative News Frames” in The International Journal
of Press/Politics. In contrast to the assumption that “news
norms” limit people’s choices by prioritizing bad news, they
explored the notion that “news may be negative and/or
strategy-focused because that is the kind of news that people are
interested in.” They began with a survey asking participants to
self-report their preferences for positive, neutral, or negative
news. They then tracked the participants’ eye movements while they
browsed news online. When they analyzed the results, they found that,
“regardless of what participants say, they exhibit a preference for
negative news content.”
(http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1940161214524832?etoc=&
) People said they wanted and preferred good news, and that
popular media overemphasized negative stories. Yet when presented
with the opportunity, they chose the negative ones.
(http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20140728-why-is-all-the-news-bad
)
This
is probably more interesting than surprising. I’m reminded of an
iconic line from that charming and problematic movie, Pretty
Woman. Vivian remarks that, "People put you down enough, you
start to believe it." Edward counters with a compliment, "I
think you are a very bright, very special woman." But Vivian
knows that it isn’t that easy, and says, "The bad stuff is
easier to believe. You ever notice that?" And all of us nod –
yes, we’ve noticed. Because psychologically, this is exactly the
case. We recognize negative events more quickly and remember them
more deeply.
From
an evolutionary standpoint, it makes sense. The human nervous system
is the product of about 600 million years of evolution, every bit of
it depending on the ability to pass genes on to the next generation.
Our ancestors needed to eat enough to stay alive, and stay alive long
enough to reproduce. So an important part of our affect system
focuses on what things we label as pleasant and desirable – the “I
like that and I want more of it” parts of our brains. We like
things that feel and taste good, or put us in a position to get more
of what we want. Yet as essential as these things are to the survival
of the species, a creature can’t do them if it is dead. So our
affect systems also let us know when we are likely to be in danger
and need to protect ourselves. When a threat arises, all the other
stuff can be put on hold. We label some aspect of our experience as
unpleasant, disgusting, or dangerous and we take action – the “I
hate that and want to get away from it” part of our brains. This
reaction needed to be strong and urgent. If we manage to survive, we
can look for more food or mates tomorrow. But if we die, that’s the
end.
This
negativity bias, as painful as it is to experience, has been very
effective at helping us survive. Rick Hanson, a psychologist
specializing in contemplative neuroscience and neuroplasticity, sums
it up -
“All
this makes human beings super-sensitive to apparent threats.
Basically, in evolution, there are two kinds of mistakes: (1) You
think there is a tiger in the bushes but there isn’t one, and (2)
You think the coast is clear, no tiger in the bushes, but there
really is one about to pounce. / These mistakes have very different
consequences. The first one will make you anxious, but the second one
will kill you. That’s why Mother Nature wants you to make the first
mistake a thousand times over in order to avoid making the second
mistake even once.”
(https://www.rickhanson.net/stephen-colbert-we-dont-need-to-keep-fear-alive/
)
Practically speaking, Rick continues, this means that,
“To
keep our ancestors alive, Mother Nature evolved a brain that
routinely tricked them into making three mistakes: overestimating
threats, underestimating opportunities, and underestimating resources
(for dealing with threats and fulfilling opportunities). This is a
great way to pass on gene copies, but a lousy way to promote quality
of life.”
(https://www.rickhanson.net/how-your-brain-makes-you-easily-intimidated/
)
This is a fantastic line: the negativity bias “is a great way to pass on gene copies, but a lousy way to promote quality of life.” And I think we all know what Rick means: constantly “overestimating threats, underestimating opportunities, and underestimating resources” is a recipe for never-ending stress, making it difficult to sustain healthy relationships and communities. But let’s acknowledge that the negativity bias would not exist if the world was not a dangerous place; sometimes there is a tiger in the bushes.
This
last week, we witnessed one of the more public demonstrations of this
fact, watching the unfolding drama surrounding the Brett Kavanaugh
hearings. There were so many difficult moments, perhaps especially
for those of us who have experienced sexual assault. Never mind that
Kavanaugh’s judicial record already indicated he was unfit to serve
as a justice on the Supreme Court. Never mind that the NAACP Legal
Defense Fund released a 94 page report that revealed that -
“Kavanaugh's record on affirmative action, voting rights, police
misconduct and other key issues in the scope of racial justice and
civil rights is ... deeply concerning … .” Never mind that
Kavanaugh’s
“jurisprudence
will solidify the civil rights retrenchment with devastating
consequences for the constitutional and legal protections of those
who are most marginalized in our society for decades to come."
(https://www.salon.com/2018/09/10/naacp-legal-defense-fund-lays-out-kavanaughs-extensive-and-troubling-record-on-civil-rights/
)
It
is terrifying to me that none of these issues were sufficient to
cause the Senate to reject Kavanaugh’s nomination. It is more
terrifying still that a public display of classic abuser behavior –
denying, attacking, and reversing victim and offender roles – was
not sufficient to immediately end his nomination.
(https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2018/9/27/1799292/-Kavanaugh-s-opening-remarks-are-a-masterclass-in-a-common-sexual-abuser-defense-tactic
) These are moments when we understand clearly that powerful
people do not have the well-being of most us in mind.
I
stress this point because working with the negativity bias should not
be confused with avoidance or denial. We are not trying to pretend
that injustice and oppression don’t exist, or that we don’t
experience loss and grief. An unwillingness to work honestly with
suffering is unhealthy and counterproductive. We all need breaks, to
step away and rest. But avoidance and denial is something different,
transforming compassion into indifference. So here we are, in a
dangerous and desperate world, full of suffering. We have to deal
with our long histories of discrimination, exploitation, and
oppression. None of us is untouched, and most of us are tired.
Compassionate action, for ourselves and others, is both beautiful and
excruciatingly difficult. We have a negativity bias, and we want to
also have open, loving hearts. How?
Let’s
begin by cultivating gratitude for our negativity bias. For all of
us, especially for those of us that belong to marginalized
communities, we can be grateful that this bias has helped keep us
alive. It is healthy to have healthy boundaries and wise to have
functional mistrust. There are plenty of people who don’t care
about our well-being, or who have their own ideas and agendas for
what is good for our well-being. There are plenty of people willing
to sacrifice our well-being for what they think is politically
expedient, economically advantageous, or religiously comforting for
them. It is healthy to have healthy boundaries; it is wise to have
functional mistrust.
This
might be one of the hardest lessons for folks who want to be in
solidarity to learn, but it must be learned. We must honor the
suffering in one another, and respect the lived realities of folk who
are oppressed, without taking it personally. White folk, it is 100%
legitimate for people of color to not trust us. Men, it is 100%
legitimate for women and nonbinary folk to not trust you. Cisgender
people, it is 100% legitimate for transgender folk to not trust you.
Wealthy people, it is 100% legitimate for the poor to not trust you.
Temporarily-able-bodied folk, it is 100% legitimate for disabled folk
to not trust us. That trust may grow within mutual and equitable
relationships, but no one in a position of privilege should assume it
of a person in a marginalized community. When we expect it, and have
our feelings hurt when we don’t receive it, that is a function of
domination. When we act like we are entitled to the goodwill of any
person from a marginalized community, we are only proving the
necessity of the negativity bias. When the late and great Muhammed
Ali was asked about the “good white people” involved in
anti-racism and civil rights work, he replied:
“There
are many white people who mean right and in their hearts wanna do
right. [But they’re so few.] If 10,000 snakes were coming down that
aisle now, and I had a door that I could shut, and in that 10,000,
1,000 meant right, 1,000 rattlesnakes didn’t want to bite me, I
knew they were good... Should I let all these rattlesnakes come down,
hoping that that thousand get together and form a shield? Or should I
just close the door and stay safe?”
(https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/muhammad-ali-on-not-all-white-people_us_563a5e9ee4b0307f2cabb2e6
)
So
we begin by
honoring the wisdom of the negativity bias: this world is
dangerous, and we have
to be wise to survive. But this
bias does have
repercussions on our well-being. We have generally evolved to deal
with acute, not chronic, stress. After
all, the
safest assumption for most
of evolutionary history is that
a creature
will have an early death. If
we live a long time with this kind of suffering, with no relief, it
takes a toll. So
we need tools for healing our bodies and
minds. This is where
discussions about universal health care, basic income, affordable
housing, accessibility, and
equity in education
intersect. Eliminating
poverty, racism, sexism, disablism, and gender and sexuality antagonisms would also
reduce the negative experiences in our lives. All of it is connected
and all
of it is necessary.
But it is a long road to
travel.
In
the meanwhile, grieving is
one of the most important and often overlooked aspects of social
justice movements. We need to have spaces, places, and practices
available that help us process and move through the grief. Otherwise,
we can easily get stuck. Hanson’s
description of the negativity bias as a tendency for “overestimating
threats, underestimating opportunities, and underestimating
resources,” is one that I
think most organizers, activists, and social workers
would recognize. We
need robust networks where we can
process the injustices we experience or
witness.
There’s
a story in the Mahayana
Buddhist traditions of the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, who
takes a vow to not enter
nirvana until all beings are freed from suffering. For ages, he works
tirelessly, until the ocean of suffering is emptied. Triumphant, he
returns to the Buddha-of-Infinite-Light, Amitabha,
who says, “Look again.”
Avalokiteshvara turns and, to his dismay, sees the realms of
existence already
overflowing with miserable
beings. Overwhelmed by the idea
of working with such anguish for untold ages yet
again, he doubts himself. “I cannot keep my vow,” he thinks, and
with the thought, splits into a thousand pieces. But
Amitabha gathers the broken
pieces together and recreates Avalokiteshvara with a thousand arms
and eyes. With this renewal, the bodhisattva is empowered
to return to his work.
That
image resonates with many of us. Even when we experience success,
even when things go well, we look back at the world and see an ocean
of suffering. We despair. How can we go on? Our hearts break. We
break into a thousand pieces. But
Avalokiteshvara’s story reminds us that this shattering may not be
the end. If we are able to integrate those
experiences,
to grieve and heal, we may find an even deeper ability to bear with
suffering and work for liberation.
This
re-integration is possible because we have also inherited another set
of tools, which let us enjoy well-being within ourselves and with
others. When we feel safe and can trust that our needs are being met,
contentment can arise – the “I can relax and enjoy this” part
of our brains. Many creatures, including and perhaps especially
humans, are able to nurture, care for, and connect with themselves
and one another. But, living in an unjust and consumer-based society,
this third part is often woefully under-developed. We usually bounce
back and forth between the “I hate that and want to get away from
it” and the “I like that and I want more of it” parts of our
brains, leaving little time and energy to strengthen the “I can
relax and enjoy this” part. Is it any wonder that activists suffer
from burn-out and compassion fatigue, and activist communities are
rife with conflict? We don’t just burn the candle at both ends, we
throw the candle into the fire.
My
request this morning is that we not only honor our negativity bias,
but that we also become increasingly intentional about cultivating
the calming and connecting parts of our brains. Because self and
community care can also be activism. Building trust in community can
be activism. Understanding and supporting each of our strengths and
limitations can be activism. Treating each other, including children,
with kindness and respect can be activism. Making art can be
activism. Planting flowers can be activism. Creating resilient and
sustainable communities can be activism. Honoring and celebrating all
types of activism and activists can be solidarity.
The
Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh and his community faced the terrible
suffering of the Vietnam War firsthand. Like Avalokiteshvara, I am
sure his heart broke a thousand times. But what emerged from that
honest engagement with suffering was a community of service during
the war, and a lifetime of building communities of peace and justice
after the war. One of his teachings, forged in the flames of that
terrible conflict, was simply this: “Life is filled with suffering,
but it is also filled with many wonders, like the blue sky, the
sunshine, the eyes of a baby. To suffer is not enough. We must also
be in touch with the wonders of life.”
(http://www.awakin.org/read/view.php?tid=168
)
It
has been another rough week, and we know there will be rough weeks
ahead. Our negativity bias will have plenty of fresh material. And we
will need to find ways to keep going and not give up and never stand
idly by. Because the work we are doing, the anger we feel, the hope
we muster - all of this is directed toward living into a future where
our activism is unnecessary, because we’ve finally come to know
community that is truly just and equitable and full of love. The
negativity bias can also remind us of just how crucial it is to keep
recognizing, appreciating, strengthening, and enjoying the healthy
connections we have right now. “To suffer is not enough.” The
negativity bias is only meant to help us survive. But to live, we
learn to cherish the ordinary. To live, we learn to cherish the mundane. To live, we learn to
love, to celebrate love. To live, we learn to create, and to support creativity. Because our suffering "is not enough. We must also … touch the wonders of life.”
