“Optimism is a cruel philosophy
hiding under a reassuring name.” Voltaire
Optimism is not the point-of-view that will see us through
during these trying times. There is no reason to believe that things will
suddenly get better. Not when the Trump administration seeks to alter or
terminate many of our most revered institutions and traditional American values.
In a few brief months, the unimaginable has happened. However, things are never
so bad that they cannot get worse.
Barrack Obama was defined in part by his 2008 campaign
slogan of “Hope.” It uplifted many voters and helped him win his presidential
election. Unfortunately, the slogan contained no realistic understanding of the
nation’s challenges or how to solve them.
Sixteen years later, being optimistic that Trump could never
again run for office did not work. Hoping that voters would see through the
Trump propaganda and not elect him to a second term got us nowhere. Convincing
ourselves that Trump did not mean what he said during his rowdy rallies was a
pipe dream. Having faith that the Democratic party could mount a last-minute
national campaign and defeat Trump was unrealistic. Hope that the “better
angels of our nature” would rise and regain the upper hand has not materialized.
On the other
hand, despair and fatalism are also not the answer. While there is no guarantee that things will
get better, there is every reason not to give in. As stated by Timonthy Snyder
in his landmark book On Tyranny, “We must take responsibility for the
face of the world. Our words and gestures or their absence count very much.”
Snyder points out that throughout history apathetic resignation to an authoritarian regime only results in more of the
same.
Perhaps in a
world that promises us nothing, there is a better way than unrealistic optimism
or total despair to approach life – a way of thinking to do the right thing
despite the chance that little good will come of our efforts.
A philosopher from
the University of St. Andrews, Mara Van Der Lugt, believes that there is an
answer and wrote a stimulating book, Hopeful Pessimism, to prove her
point. Her thesis is that crude optimism can no longer be a virtue in a
breaking world. It may well prove to be our downfall. In an age of climate
change, chronic regional warfare, and Donald Trump, the virtue we need is “hopeful
pessimism.”
Van Der Lugt
explains that when events give us little to be optimistic about, the tendency
is to resist pessimism. Things must improve. They will get better. They have
to. However, all too often—they get worse.
Conversely,
hopeful pessimists do not assume the ultimate arrival of a positive change that
will fix the problem. Instead, while they believe that individuals have no
control over the direction of the world, with hopeful pessimism the only
logical choice is to take action. Sitting on the side lines and waiting for a
miracle is not an option.
In support of
her thesis, Van Der Lugt touches on a wide range of philosophers from the Greek
Stoics to Arthur Schopenhauer. Literary
references include The Lord of the Rings and Camus’s The Plague. The
young environmental activist, Greta Thunberg, was further inspiration. From all
these sources the author concludes that it is possible to be pessimistic about
the future without being fatalistic. One can be a forceful activist for social
change without any certainty of success. Van Der Lugt concludes that history
has shown that “despair of a better future may be the precise point at which
resistance takes place.”
Where does the
concept of “hopeful” fit in, given the title of the book, Hopeful Pessimism?
To find out, a journalist for the Atlantic, Gal Beckerman, interviewed
the author. Van Der Lugt told him that “a certain kind of hope is compatible
with pessimism.” She insisted it must
obey two ground rules. First, hope should be built on the uncertainty that “We
just don’t know how things will turn out. Things might get pretty bad but there
is no telling if things could get better again. It’s never a closed story.”
In the event an
individual cannot form any concrete belief in a good ending, the second
condition applies. “The individual must ask whether the cause you are fighting
for would still be worth the effort if you knew you would never see it
realized. The hope is value-oriented. It is driven by principles such as
justice, duty, solidarity with your fellow humans, and just your sense of
goodness. You act because you feel you must.”
The ability to
work for something because it is the right thing to do, not because it stands a
chance of success, has inspired political activists throughout history.
Beckerman concludes in his Atlantic book review, of Hopeful Pessimism,
“hopeful pessimism demands action, because there are no promises; it
banishes wishful thinking."
The notion of
hopeful pessimism struck a chord with me in connection with my thirty-five-year
journey as a recovering alcoholic. The 12-step program of Alcoholics Anonymous has
some similarities. Alcoholics are never guaranteed a better life because they
stop drinking and work a recovery program. When sober, many recovering people
face worse health, family, employment, and financial problems than when
drinking. AA only promises the ability to face an uncertain future without
alcohol, a noble goal in itself.