You and I? We’re tired. Probably for different reasons — but it seems that in a post 2016 Presidential Election world, everyone is tired. With 2020’s election season in earnest bloom, it’s time to see how we can avoid succumbing to sleep in this crucial moment.
My suggested stimulant: to be metamodern about everything from here to Election Day.
Meta-what?
You’re right. Before we get into metamodernism, we should understand a little about its’ cynical parent postmodernism. Let’s begin.
Postmodernism, or: Fuck Hitler, question everything, then burn it
In the postwar pallor of the late 1940’s and early 1950’s, people around the world sought to understand why millions were dead, countries were in cinders, and what had led to this living hell. It was a moment where where the boundaries between nations and peoples were salient and hardening quickly. We sought to question not only why things had happened, but who we were as governments, citizens, and individuals.
Enter postmodernism, a school of thought popularized by Jacques Derrida (and others) that was a direct response to World War II-era totalitarianism— that which had created the modern. By the 1960’s, the core postmod values of deconstruction, irony, skepticism of power, relativism, and destruction of existing systems had made their way far beyond philosophy into social science, economics, political theory, social movements, and art. It is hard to understate the impact postmodernism had (and still has) on global culture.
To oversimplify, postmodern inquiry is: question what you are told is true or necessary, figure out why these things are neither true nor necessary, then work to destroy the facade. If it’s old, it must be thrown out — a zero sum approach to the world.
To be an artist questioning white pop artists’ appropriation of black music, or a politician questioning totalitarian governmental tendencies, is a *good thing*, but what’s hidden in those inquiries is their costs. Unpacking ‘truth’ and the systems that surround and govern us require great expenditures of time, thought, and emotion. Offsetting or sharing these costs are group phenomena — from social supports, from shared identities, and in some cases, from the very systems under scrutiny. Artists have fans; politicians have constituents. Both have access to valuable support and amplification networks, opportunities to hear and be heard. These people have clear group membership that affords them ways to not bear the costs of questioning truth fully and directly.
Most individuals do not have these resources, to say the least. For most humans, questioning and then fighting everything is exhausting at every level of being. This is especially damning today, where we have more access to information (and thus, more questions and fights) than ever before. You and I have the same amount of cognitive, temporal, and emotional resources that our parents and grandparents did in the 50’s to handle all of this information — but we have fewer of the social identities and supports that buoyed our ancestors. Our world is exponentially more complex than the 1950’s: consider advances in communication, science, society, media, and culture.
We know ourselves better than ever (again, a great thing!), but we have no sense of who *we are* together, and the world is often too loud to consider the latter.
Postmodernism’s limits have been found in our digital age. Destroy what was, give little thought to what will be only works for those with the social and individual resources to weather that storm. Many academics agree: postmodernism has been declared dead-or-dying since around 2007. Alternatives have even been proposed! But, like most missives from the ivory tower, it can take decades for these things to become accessible enough to impact we common folk.
We can’t afford decades. We don’t even have two years. It’s time to move beyond postmodernism NOW, at least politically. In its’ place? Metamodernism.
Metamodernism, or: Question everything, then burn it, then build something better
Metamodernism, or post-postmodernism, is a contemporary response to the cognitive and social burdens and deficits created by postmodernism. Metamodernism embraces hell-bent-for-leather gladitorial inquiry, but equally understands that deconstruction leaves a void which then must be filled.
If postmodernism asks us to summon thunder, metamodernism reminds us that we are equally responsible for a blue sky afterwards. It mixes a healthy skepticism of what was with an optimistic look towards what should be. As metamodernism slowly leaks into the mainstream, new genres of media like hopepunk are giving it voice. Metamodernism reduces the uncertainty of what to do after the old is purged; its sense of purpose is anchored ultimately in building, in connection, and in betterment. The power to destroy comes with the responsibility to build again.
At this point, if you’re a skeptic about what I’m saying (how postmodern of you!) I only ask that you answer the following: What have you done, as an individual, since the 2016 elections? Have your biggest victories come from settling into your sense of self, or have they come because of a group you’re part of, a movement you contributed to, a protest you went to with others? Are you as strong alone as you are in a group? Are you consistently able to pass unscathed through the bad days alone, without support? If so, I applaud you: you’ve done what countless others can’t. Bravo, seriously.
Applied Political Metamodernism
For the rest of us: I’m tired of being tired; are you? If so, we need to get metamodern in our individual approaches to political issues — we can’t just vote for someone because they’re not as bad as the other person. We can’t treat every political engagement with others as if the only thing that matters is showing how they’re wrong. We can’t create memes that only preach to our particular choir —we should focus on building bigger congregations. So how do we do this?
1. Look for and engage with people who stand for something instead of standing against everything
It’s easy to say that things shouldn’t be the way they are; it’s even easier to agree with such a sentiment. Standing against something is not a rallying call, however — it’s more of a temporary mob mentality. Individually, if you don’t have something you’re building towards, it’s easy to get caught up believing that dismantling the system is the most important item in your life.
Talking with people, candidates, and groups that are looking to build solutions lets you clarify goals, sharpen debates, and share the work of fixing things. Surround yourself with those willing to do the work of dismantling AND rebuilding.
Be metamodern: endeavor to build the future with others, not just destroy the past.
2. If you find yourself treating people as zero-sum, walk away
It is naive to think that there are not purely harmful positions that exist in the modern political landscape. I would not expect anyone who is LGBTQ+ to support anything Mike Pence touches, for example. But the reality is that many fewer politicians and political positions are as pernicious as we believe them to be — at least to us, individually.
Zero-summing others robs us of potential social support, of allies to take down what needs to be taken down, of helping hands to build what comes after, and to share the burdens of all of the above. If you find yourself dismissing a candidate who is 80 percent of what’s needed because 20 percent of their history is a problem — you’re not dismantling the past, let alone building a future.
Eventually, we all need to make choices about who we support. This decision, at least presidentially, looks binary. That doesn’t mean that everything that comes before should be binary, too. If you’re zero-summing someone, walk away from that interaction. Find someone else in your tribe who can help you assess the situation. Don’t mistake negative personal feelings or experience as a sign that no social support or utility is possible.
Be metamodern: learn to embrace potential sources of aid.
3. In the battle between you and the world, bet on the world- then join a group
There are times where individuals must exhibit uncanny valor in a pivotal moment; where they must lead by action, and thus provide succor to broken hearts and souls yearning for focus. These clips of history are often enshrined as turning points; sometimes leading to martyrdom, sticking in memory as examples to look to in dark times. These moments measure progress, if only because of the inspiriation they provide.
They are also the minority of effort when considering how to change that which needs change. Most of the work of change is not found in individuals, but in groups.
Not every coalition of people is aligned 100 percent in vision, constituency, or direction. In fact, that’s kind of the point of groups — to build sufficient-but-imperfect identities that are resilient against the CRUSHING POWER OF THE REST OF THE WORLD. Not all of us can be (insert your favorite power fantasy here), but we all can belong to a group that supports and magnifies our efforts.
In fact, you should probably broaden the groups you belong to a little bit. As a great side effect of genuine group membership, you will probably be exposed to ideas, tactics, and self-care strategies you were unaware of. You, too, will end up teaching others — and build a virtuous cycle of mutual support.
Be metamodern: learn from and support others as you support and learn from them.
We don’t have to be perfect, but we owe it to ourselves to be better.
You can do this.
Intersection 9 