Steve Almond covers varied ground throughout Bad Stories but at its core the book is a reckoning with how storytelling plays a decisive role in shaping the world. It isn’t as simple as telling the truth for just as an untrue story can produce a good outcome, a true story can lead to bad consequences. The important task he points out is to recognize that people in pain create the stories they need to help their inner panic settle into a functional calm. How can we acknowledge this reality to shape our stories in ways that produce good outcomes for all?
Literature is one way to help those in need. As Almond notes, literature is how we affirm the importance of other people and their struggles. The understanding granted by an empathic work helps tame their turmoil. Good literature is the opposite of propaganda, the dismissal of our shared humanity through simplification. Modern movements toward totalitarianism are powered by the angry and dislocated who’ve bought into the message that their loneliness and isolation can be blamed on a modern society that has left them behind.
Propaganda doesn’t need to support a repressive regime or dictator. It can simply prop up a status quo by diverting our attention away from the matter. In an era where public buildings are being renamed due merely to the namesake’s association with slavery, the Electoral College remains untouched despite its significant influence in helping slave states account for otherwise uncounted ‘property’ in determining their political influence. It might not be a clear-cut example of Almond’s point that trauma victims sometimes protect rather than acknowledge the abuser but it did make me think about why in a country where so many are horrified by national history there is little interest in correct this particular misstep. I suppose it is like Bad Stories reminds us – the more we hear something, the more we accept it as true, even if it does seem dubious that the system exists merely to ensure Wyoming doesn’t feel left out.
Showing posts with label books - bad stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books - bad stories. Show all posts
Monday, October 28, 2019
Thursday, October 24, 2019
reading review - bad stories (politics)
Politics is the primary application of the main ideas in Bad Stories. Through this lens – and especially in the context of the 2016 election and its aftermath – Steve Almond carefully weighs his thoughts and considers their application in both wide and narrow contexts.
One comment I thought a lot about was Almond’s point that Putin sees America as a country defined by greed rather than our stated virtues. I see this idea play out in the way many voters weigh candidates strictly by how a vote will lead to direct personal benefit. This thinking on a mass scale means democracy loses its power to bring wrongdoers to account and instead shifts its emphasis to a contest where the suffering battle for the limited pain relief on offer. It’s no wonder that many use political identity as a fair reason to hate others. The voluntary nature of party affiliation means anyone voting against you is someone choosing to take away access to what you value.
Tribalism grows out of a society that can easily divide the world into good and bad. Almond points out that the competitive mindset works in the same way – the world becomes a series of transactions and in such an environment everything becomes zero-sum. In such a world, a winning immigrant means a losing native, an ascending China means a descending America, and so on. I imagine someone who feels this way lives under tremendous pressure, real or imagined, and it suggests to me that votes from such people will reflect this pressure.
I suspect one possible response invokes voters to demonstrate what Almond describes as ‘the totalitarian mindset’. This refers to seeking leaders with strong, simple solutions to threats or problems. Illegal immigrants? Build a wall. Jobs going to Brussels? Leave the EU. The government can’t pay debts? Send refugees to Germany. Almonds notes that this mental model of leadership was the best predictor of Trump support – it fared far better than income or economics, even more reliable than racial resentment. What's really interesting to me is how although most people I interact with regularly do not support Trump, many respect leadership styles that align with the way Almond describes the totalitarian mindset.
One way I think about overcoming this problem is rejecting what I’ve referred to in the past as the scarcity mentality. The people who feel they have enough seem to be a different breed of human. They grow to believe that others can and should have what they always have – enough. They sow stitches where others see battle lines and couldn’t tell you where the scoreboard is or how the points are tallied. I have different conversations with these people than I do with those who are drowning in scarcity. My hope for the future is that we find politicians who reflect this thinking. Rather than playing on shared fears and stoking concerns about governmental weakness, corruption, or failure, our aspiring leaders will reject the extreme manifestations of their philosophies and instead find a middle ground where empathy, understanding, and shared effort can start the process of moving our most pressing problems toward permanent solutions.
One comment I thought a lot about was Almond’s point that Putin sees America as a country defined by greed rather than our stated virtues. I see this idea play out in the way many voters weigh candidates strictly by how a vote will lead to direct personal benefit. This thinking on a mass scale means democracy loses its power to bring wrongdoers to account and instead shifts its emphasis to a contest where the suffering battle for the limited pain relief on offer. It’s no wonder that many use political identity as a fair reason to hate others. The voluntary nature of party affiliation means anyone voting against you is someone choosing to take away access to what you value.
Tribalism grows out of a society that can easily divide the world into good and bad. Almond points out that the competitive mindset works in the same way – the world becomes a series of transactions and in such an environment everything becomes zero-sum. In such a world, a winning immigrant means a losing native, an ascending China means a descending America, and so on. I imagine someone who feels this way lives under tremendous pressure, real or imagined, and it suggests to me that votes from such people will reflect this pressure.
I suspect one possible response invokes voters to demonstrate what Almond describes as ‘the totalitarian mindset’. This refers to seeking leaders with strong, simple solutions to threats or problems. Illegal immigrants? Build a wall. Jobs going to Brussels? Leave the EU. The government can’t pay debts? Send refugees to Germany. Almonds notes that this mental model of leadership was the best predictor of Trump support – it fared far better than income or economics, even more reliable than racial resentment. What's really interesting to me is how although most people I interact with regularly do not support Trump, many respect leadership styles that align with the way Almond describes the totalitarian mindset.
One way I think about overcoming this problem is rejecting what I’ve referred to in the past as the scarcity mentality. The people who feel they have enough seem to be a different breed of human. They grow to believe that others can and should have what they always have – enough. They sow stitches where others see battle lines and couldn’t tell you where the scoreboard is or how the points are tallied. I have different conversations with these people than I do with those who are drowning in scarcity. My hope for the future is that we find politicians who reflect this thinking. Rather than playing on shared fears and stoking concerns about governmental weakness, corruption, or failure, our aspiring leaders will reject the extreme manifestations of their philosophies and instead find a middle ground where empathy, understanding, and shared effort can start the process of moving our most pressing problems toward permanent solutions.
Saturday, October 19, 2019
reading review - bad stories (the media)
In my first post about Bad Stories, I briefly mentioned Steve Almond’s thoughts about the role the media plays in bringing bad stories to our eyes and ears. Today I’ll take a very quick look at some more of what he wrote about this topic.
I agree with Almond’s fundamental belief that good journalism can – and should – hold wrongdoers accountable. What I remain unclear about is the methods employed by the media to accomplish this task. The final two weeks of the campaign are a good example. The coverage from the media about Clinton’s emails surely put enough doubt in voters’ minds and possibly influenced their decisions at the polls. In itself, this type of focused coverage isn’t a problem, but without balanced coverage regarding questions about Trump’s candidacy the media becomes a participant rather than a spectator in the election.
Another angle to the point regarding accountability is that its power only extends so far – a longform ‘think’ piece interrupted by ads, photos, and tangentially related hyperlinks is very unlikely to awaken a conscious or prompt a wrongdoer to start making amends. There’s a reason Scrooge was visited by three ghosts rather than a magazine subscription. This fact doesn’t excuse the way the media will play up the theater, drama, or pageantry of a national election at the expense of policy coverage. Almond makes a comment that I think fit well here – he notes that the role of good journalism is to see beyond the theatrics. This didn’t really happen in 2016, or at least it’s so suggested by some studies that estimate as little as ten percent of national election coverage focused on policy.
I agree with Almond’s fundamental belief that good journalism can – and should – hold wrongdoers accountable. What I remain unclear about is the methods employed by the media to accomplish this task. The final two weeks of the campaign are a good example. The coverage from the media about Clinton’s emails surely put enough doubt in voters’ minds and possibly influenced their decisions at the polls. In itself, this type of focused coverage isn’t a problem, but without balanced coverage regarding questions about Trump’s candidacy the media becomes a participant rather than a spectator in the election.
Another angle to the point regarding accountability is that its power only extends so far – a longform ‘think’ piece interrupted by ads, photos, and tangentially related hyperlinks is very unlikely to awaken a conscious or prompt a wrongdoer to start making amends. There’s a reason Scrooge was visited by three ghosts rather than a magazine subscription. This fact doesn’t excuse the way the media will play up the theater, drama, or pageantry of a national election at the expense of policy coverage. Almond makes a comment that I think fit well here – he notes that the role of good journalism is to see beyond the theatrics. This didn’t really happen in 2016, or at least it’s so suggested by some studies that estimate as little as ten percent of national election coverage focused on policy.
Sunday, October 13, 2019
reading review - bad stories
Bad Stories by Steve Almond (February 2019)
I almost always travel with a book or two just in case I end up having a few free moments. Like with any great rule I eagerly make exceptions. A common case stems from when I have so much confidence in my schedule that I cannot foresee any possibility of needing to kill time. When do things ever turn out differently than we expect, right?
I suppose Bad Stories is a good example of how the unexpected is often the first hint of an opportunity. I had left home one day with no expectation of needing a book but plans broke down and I was suddenly facing an hour on the train. With only a few spare minutes, I made an emergency stop in the library to find a book for the train. I settled quickly on Bad Stories because of its obvious positive qualities – new, short, and written by a familiar name. (The last point was the least important as I knew nothing about Steve Almond’s writing – I was familiar with him for his role as co-host of the Dear Sugar Radio podcast. It all worked out well – or maybe new and short are the only important qualities. Anyway, moving on.)
It didn’t take more than a couple of stops before I understood that this would become one of my favorite reads of the year. This collection fits into a genre that has only briefly existed (and might not survive for much longer) – books that might have been called What Happened? had Hillary Clinton not beaten everyone to the punch. Almond’s mystified contribution to this growing field of research argues that bad storytelling was a primary culprit for creating the conditions required for the Trump Presidency and he goes on to consider the role of storytelling in our ongoing quest to build a different future. There is a lot I’d like to cover about this book and we’ll work through the details over a handful of upcoming posts.
The main idea of this book, however, is firmly focused on the role stories play in distorting, diminishing, and deleting the truth of our experiences. Almond points out, for example, that America’s origin story ignores how many of our founders were aristocrats who owned people. In today’s country, the race story encourages poor white Americans to blame those of different races for their circumstances. I especially liked the point that a bad story’s biggest problem is the way it prevents better stories from being told. There are so many important stories being forced into darkness by lesser tales that it’s worth considering how the world might change if the untapped power of these stories could be brought into the light of day.
One place Almond looks for these untold stories is in the news media. The reality he describes is that the media rarely seems to consider their role in creating and encouraging its many circuses, preferring instead to claim ‘objectivity’ by only covering the story. I agree in that it’s objective to cover a story using particular principles or methods as guidelines but doing so with a self-generated story is a lot like a scientist eagerly scribbling out the results after an hour spent meddling with the test tubes. Almond also brings up a general point about journalism, noting a tendency to settle by presenting two sides of a story rather than digging deep to determine the truth of the various underlying facts. Again, there is a clear case of objectivity in giving all parties a fair share of the stage. But if the media is merely presenting stories rather than working out their validity, it seems like they are giving in to the constant pressure of reporting more interesting stories at the expense of more important work.
One up: I thought Almond had some sharp insights into human nature. One common refrain was that we tend to take our grievances seriously while dismissing our vulnerabilities. Another suggested that people who work well with differing views have a humble curiosity about the outside world. Perhaps those seeking to make progress in this area should consider whether the internet’s tendency toward shallowness and meanness is playing any role in making the adoption of this humble curiosity a challenging endeavor.
One down: The most memorable section of this book presented the following hypothetical. Suppose two candidates apply for the same job. The male candidate has no industry experience but has led several businesses into bankruptcy. He is known to make bigoted statements – including one astonishing video where he bragged about sexually assaulting women. The female candidate has significant and recent experience. She’s been repeatedly accused of corruption despite the lack of evidence. In 2016, America confirmed that they were equally qualified for our most important job.
Just saying: I’m almost certain that I liked this book because I agreed with many of Almond’s subtler points. One example was the importance of television in increasing Trump’s plausibility as a candidate. Almond suggested that Trump’s role in The Apprentice (a show I didn’t watch) portrayed him as a reasonable and compassionate boss yet one capable of maintaining authority and command over his businesses. Another point criticized the role of comedy for how it inappropriately insulated people from their most distressing reactions and reduced the sense of urgency about the election. The most significant criticisms were about general media coverage – I’ll cover those in an upcoming post.
I almost always travel with a book or two just in case I end up having a few free moments. Like with any great rule I eagerly make exceptions. A common case stems from when I have so much confidence in my schedule that I cannot foresee any possibility of needing to kill time. When do things ever turn out differently than we expect, right?
I suppose Bad Stories is a good example of how the unexpected is often the first hint of an opportunity. I had left home one day with no expectation of needing a book but plans broke down and I was suddenly facing an hour on the train. With only a few spare minutes, I made an emergency stop in the library to find a book for the train. I settled quickly on Bad Stories because of its obvious positive qualities – new, short, and written by a familiar name. (The last point was the least important as I knew nothing about Steve Almond’s writing – I was familiar with him for his role as co-host of the Dear Sugar Radio podcast. It all worked out well – or maybe new and short are the only important qualities. Anyway, moving on.)
It didn’t take more than a couple of stops before I understood that this would become one of my favorite reads of the year. This collection fits into a genre that has only briefly existed (and might not survive for much longer) – books that might have been called What Happened? had Hillary Clinton not beaten everyone to the punch. Almond’s mystified contribution to this growing field of research argues that bad storytelling was a primary culprit for creating the conditions required for the Trump Presidency and he goes on to consider the role of storytelling in our ongoing quest to build a different future. There is a lot I’d like to cover about this book and we’ll work through the details over a handful of upcoming posts.
The main idea of this book, however, is firmly focused on the role stories play in distorting, diminishing, and deleting the truth of our experiences. Almond points out, for example, that America’s origin story ignores how many of our founders were aristocrats who owned people. In today’s country, the race story encourages poor white Americans to blame those of different races for their circumstances. I especially liked the point that a bad story’s biggest problem is the way it prevents better stories from being told. There are so many important stories being forced into darkness by lesser tales that it’s worth considering how the world might change if the untapped power of these stories could be brought into the light of day.
One place Almond looks for these untold stories is in the news media. The reality he describes is that the media rarely seems to consider their role in creating and encouraging its many circuses, preferring instead to claim ‘objectivity’ by only covering the story. I agree in that it’s objective to cover a story using particular principles or methods as guidelines but doing so with a self-generated story is a lot like a scientist eagerly scribbling out the results after an hour spent meddling with the test tubes. Almond also brings up a general point about journalism, noting a tendency to settle by presenting two sides of a story rather than digging deep to determine the truth of the various underlying facts. Again, there is a clear case of objectivity in giving all parties a fair share of the stage. But if the media is merely presenting stories rather than working out their validity, it seems like they are giving in to the constant pressure of reporting more interesting stories at the expense of more important work.
One up: I thought Almond had some sharp insights into human nature. One common refrain was that we tend to take our grievances seriously while dismissing our vulnerabilities. Another suggested that people who work well with differing views have a humble curiosity about the outside world. Perhaps those seeking to make progress in this area should consider whether the internet’s tendency toward shallowness and meanness is playing any role in making the adoption of this humble curiosity a challenging endeavor.
One down: The most memorable section of this book presented the following hypothetical. Suppose two candidates apply for the same job. The male candidate has no industry experience but has led several businesses into bankruptcy. He is known to make bigoted statements – including one astonishing video where he bragged about sexually assaulting women. The female candidate has significant and recent experience. She’s been repeatedly accused of corruption despite the lack of evidence. In 2016, America confirmed that they were equally qualified for our most important job.
Just saying: I’m almost certain that I liked this book because I agreed with many of Almond’s subtler points. One example was the importance of television in increasing Trump’s plausibility as a candidate. Almond suggested that Trump’s role in The Apprentice (a show I didn’t watch) portrayed him as a reasonable and compassionate boss yet one capable of maintaining authority and command over his businesses. Another point criticized the role of comedy for how it inappropriately insulated people from their most distressing reactions and reduced the sense of urgency about the election. The most significant criticisms were about general media coverage – I’ll cover those in an upcoming post.
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