Peace Hacks

I’m not much qualified for political prognostication, and not too fond of posting my potentially wayward reflections in somewhat permanent ink. But big things are afoot in our leaky ship.

I have no idea who will be our president Wednesday morning, but I’m relatively sure of what Coronavirus is going to do to their administration. Before I get into that, I’d like to share some data that has driven me to the point of fortune telling this morning. A quick word about data by the way – it’s all we have. Someone turned up the emotional heat on our political sensibilites, warping our capacity for truth detection. Now, CNN says Coronavirus will kill us all while Fox News tells me that it’s going to tank the economy and make us all homeless. The only thing insulated from the emotion of our predicament is the information that’s being professionaly collected and, in some instances, disseminated publicly.

Everyone knows that cases have spiked far beyond anyone thought imaginable. But, as Trump has asked, why focus so much on cases? Most people who get infected will be completely asymptomatic, never knowing that they’ve been infected. In addition, the death rate hasn’t seen nearly the spike we saw in the beginning, so why make such a fuss that we have to potentially shut down the economy?

I don’t know anybody who’s died from Coronavirus.

But the most important metric in all of this is hospitalization rates. These give us a very clear picture of how many people are symptomatic, and offer an early warning system for potentially rising death counts. If you’re wondering why you haven’t heard much about this metric, consider the following story from NPR.

Initially, the CDC was collecting and disseminating this information, but was stripped of that duty in July. Now, the department of Health and Human Services, for whatever reason, has taken up that mantle, but they don’t want to publicy share their data. According to an HHS spokesperson, transparency is important, but they also want to respect privacy.

I’m still working through what hospital rates have to do with individual privacy.

Either way, NPR pestered HHS for their most salient data points. Here they are in brief:

The orange line represents the percentage of reporting facilites currently operating over 80% of their ICU capacity, a rise of nearly 3 points since the end of June. If hospitalizations rise another 3 points in the next quarter, we’ll be adding another 150 ICU facilities nearing capacity, and a higher death rate to follow. Unfortunately, given the correlation between rising case numbers and hospitalization rates, the next 4 months will see a sharper increase than 3%.

 

The HHS data confirms that we can trust Coronavirus case counts for a sound picture of this pandemic’s severity. As we approach winter (more people congregating inside), and as we mount a spike in cases that eclipses Coronavirus’ initial attack by a factor of 3, it’s safe to say that we have a problem – a big one.

With that, my prediction: because of our collective unwillingness to follow simple guidelines, Coronavirus will grow to a point where this already shaky economy won’t be able to handle it. The $$$ meltdown that we’re trying to avoid is coming, regardless of who’s president. If Biden is elected, he’ll be much more intense about masks, social distancing, avoiding indoors, etc., all of which will cause the economic meltdown that’s coming either way. But, because the correlation between Coronavirus and the economy won’t be nearly as apparent as it would if we let the body count triple, and because the anti-maskers will still be Trump supporters, Biden will be blamed for the economic carnage.

If Trump is elected, he’ll continue on his current course, which will also end with economy shutting down. But, as we all know at this point, someone else will be blamed for it. Nobody’s bothered by the fact that He’s still calling it the flu, and, as he promised in his first campaign, he could be directly responsible for someone else’s death and none of his followers would bat an eye.

Hopefully my prediction is bunk and we find a different way to deal with the severity of things, or we get irrefutable evidence that our data is bunk, and we can all get back to livin’. But given a death rate that rivals the third highest cause of death in the US + traffic fatalities + flu deaths, I’m confident that our data is accurate, and that we’re in dire need of a 180.

Fauci himself said that we’re going in the wrong direction:

“We’re going in the wrong direction.” ~ Anthony Fauci

Wrong directions are a funny thing. In most regards, going the wrong way isn’t so bad if you catch it early. But the longer one goes down the wrong road, the longer it takes to get back on the right one, and we’ve been on this road for nearly a year. Fauci also reflected, recently, “If things do not change, if they continue on the course we’re on, there’s gonna be a whole lot of pain in this country with regard to additional cases and hospitalizations, and deaths.”

Again, our economy can’t handle that. If he’s right, the pain will extend far beyond the lives of those infected with COVID-19.

A few days ago, I took a walk with an MD friend who had just come off an ER rotation. “Covid is real,” he said, reflecting on the increasing number of hospitalizations in Denver. My wife says the same, as do all my other MD friends.

Please accept my yuge apology for the doom and gloom. I know it’s the last thing we want to hear. But, unfortunately, this is us. Whoever’s elected, we’re in for more physical hurt, as well as the economic trouble that will come with it. And, of course, there will be plenty of blaming and finger pointing to follow since we’re the most un-united United States since the Civil War.

That might be coming too.

On the upside, as Christians, we don’t have to saddle ourselves with the burden of fixing all of this. That’s God’s job – He’s the only one big enough to handle it. Our job is to lash ourselves to the mast and resist the siren call of self-righteousness, judgmentalism, disunity, finger pointing, ignorance, political segregation, and all the other unGodly BS that’s ripping this country apart. We can be devout, upstanding Christians and, at the same time, submit to whatever personal sacrifices are required by this pandemic and the majority of world scientific opinion that’s on the same page about masks, distancing, and the outdoors.

Sadly, at this point in the game, due mainly to our refusal to follow simple rules, things have gotten much worse, and the road home, much longer. There’s no way to stem the tide here without significant damage to the economy. In the early days, we could have taken decisive action, maybe even overkilled it a little, and been in a better spot. Neither Taiwan nor New Zealand are in quite the leaky boat that we find ourselves in, but they’re much more united than we are, with regards to Coronavirus at least.

When the economy does tank, it won’t be Trump’s fault, or Biden’s, or the liberal’s, or the conservative’s. It’ll be ours. We’re the idiots who said “no” to science. We’re the sheep who took a stand against being sheep, sometimes violently so, flocking to indoor worship services in defiance of “socialism.” We’re the last group of people who should place our trust in politics, while bending our soul to a guy who, I’m convinced, has intimate knowledge of Coronavirus’ severity, but who also sees it as a threat to his success.

There are consequences to all of this, and I’m ever more convinced that they’re on their way, hoping that I’m wrong, happy to eat crow for all that’s permanently recorded above.

Shortly after Donald Trump was elected, I listened patiently as a friend explained why he voted for one of the independent candidates instead of Hilary Clinton. He wasn’t a Trump supporter by any stretch, but not a Clinton fan, either. “You voted for Donald Trump,” I said, pointing out that his third party, non-Clinton vote amounted to little more than a higher percentage of votes for Trump. “No I didn’t,” he fired back, a little pissed. “I voted my conscious, for the person I believe is best suited for the job.”

I appreciated his response. He told me later that he was a little intimidated by the conversation, hesitant to speak his mind, but I’m glad he did. Even if I didn’t agree with him, I’ll always appreciate that kind of moxie, and wish I had more of it myself.

Either way, Christians who don’t like either mainstream candidate find themselves in the same conundrum this year, hesitant to cast their vote for someone they simply don’t like, or worse. To us, morality matters, as does peace, justice, character, etc. To many, Trump’s stripper routine with our coveted commandments has been appalling, but Biden’s no saint either.

How can an upstanding American Jesus follower cast a vote for either?

Following are some personal reflections on third party voting in this election cycle.

First, there will be no third party win. According to recent polls, third party voting is much less popular than it was in 2016, but roughly 10% of us will still do it, and those are votes that won’t matter. If you’re especially opposed to one particular politician, a third party vote renders null and void your vote against him.

And so, technically, we’re left with two candidates. Constricted. That’s how our system currently (dis)operates. Dems have a ton of money, Republicans have a ton of money. Each year they offer us two candidates who are marketed to the masses, head and shoulders above any would-be third party candidate. This is somewhat insulting to us as we believe that things like this should be much more “fair,” and don’t like the idea of something so personal and powerful as choice being so blatantly limited.

We certainly don’t like the government telling us what to do.

But, avast, whether we like it or not, our political machine is attended by a fair amount of brokenness. While we can work to make some reforms, none of these will happen by November. We can’t fix it. We’ll cast our vote into this broken thing and hope that what comes out on the other side is marginally functional.

We’re tempted to respond by “voting our conscience,” or “protest voting,” both of which have their merits, but, again, our non-mainstream vote will amount to nothing.

It certainly won’t result in any reforms.

Like it or not, right or wrong, till death do us part, we’re forced to endorse one of two candidates. It’ll probably be the same way in 2024, etc.

Personally, I don’t like Biden the man. His tough guy, off the cuff comments, especially his “you ain’t Black” reflections really get under my skin. And while I’ve only marginally kept up with the Burisma thing, I’m sure there are some skeletons in his closet. He’s been swimming in the political pond for a long time.

On the other hand, he’s in favor of making the changes that I believe are most important to our country, though he may not support them personally. Perhaps he’s only embracing them because that’s what his constituency wants. Or, he’s deeply committed to this stuff on a personal level, or somewhere in between.

Regarding the economy, I don’t believe that it’s going to tank if Biden’s elected. If you check the charts on GNP, employment, Dow Jones, etc., you’ll see that the economy has been on roughly the same trajectory since Obama took office. I have no reason to believe that Biden and the rest of the folks in Washington will struggle to keep it on a relatively similar tack.

Coronavirus might put our $$ in the tank, and whoever we vote for will need to be someone who can do what’s needed. The current administration has downplayed it on multiple occasions, for whatever reason, and incited many others to do the same, contributing to America’s soaring case numbers, hospitalization rates, and deaths. I’m not sure how Biden will handle things, but I’m convinced we’ll hear far less “it’s just the flu” type statements from the White House.

That’s very important to me, and to my MD spouse who’s forced into close contact with people who haven’t taken this seriously, now hospitalized.

Obviously, I’m no Trump fan, but I’m not writing this morning to try and influence your vote. I’m merely attempting to illustrate the idea that I don’t have to like the man to cast a vote for the trajectory that I think he’ll put us on.

Sure, in voting for Biden I voted for more equity, equality, and justice for non-whites. I voted for less division. I voted for the nearly exact same economic progress that we’ve had for the last 20 years. I voted for someone who will trust what the majority of world epidemiologists are saying about Coronavirus, or any other pandemic that might threaten his popularity, and act accordingly.

I likely voted for lower abortion numbers as well. Sorry for repeating myself.

But I also voted for a politician. Biden won’t do nearly enough in favor of America’s current racial justice movement. At the end of his administration, there will still be much work to do. With regards to division, he’s not a man of peace, and will struggle to put out the fires that are raging at the hands of this current administration. As any president, he’ll be under pressure to take the right steps re Coronavirus while trying to keep the economy going. I think he’ll do better than Trump, but he’ll struggle.

I prefer someone else. But Biden’s the closest I can get. And while there might be folks better suited on the ballot, voting for a third party candidate, righteous as that might feel, isn’t what’s in my country’s best interest at this stage in the game.

There’s a meme circulating on social media, saying, “A vote is not a valentine, you aren’t confessing your love for the candidate. It’s a chess move for the world you want to live in.”

Amen to whoever penned it.

We cannot resolve our unity problem until we resolve our binary thinking problem.

A few years ago, as my family and I were on a road trip to Mt. Rushmore, I hit the brakes and made a hard left, scaring everyone in the car half to death. A mountain lake had caught my eye and I wanted to take a closer look.

It was small-ish for a lake, but too big to call it a pond, surrounded by trees and large rock formations, a beautiful spot to stop and take a break, let the kids run around, etc. What struck me was that it was completely calm – not a ripple. Solid glass. I had never seen that before.

It didn’t last long, of course, as our middle child loves to throw rocks at water. But I’ll admit that it’s fascinating to watch what one rock does to a perfectly calm body of water; the ripples travel through its entirety. One rock and one rowdy kid can, in under a minute, affect millions of gallons.

It’s interesting to note that a body of water’s natural state is calm. Left alone, any mountain lake would look like a perfect mirror – something has to come along and disrupt it: wind, fish, kids, convection, the moon, etc.

The same goes for us, if you’ll allow the idea that humanity is one, united, interconnected thing.

Our natural state is peace.

And when someone comes along who doesn’t quite understand how rocks work, mindlessly hurling things like anxiety, selfishness, pride, division, bad religion, etc. our peace quickly gives way to troubled waters, the effects of each spreading much farther than it’s hurler.

Just as one rock disturbes the entirety of a placid mountain lake, one act of hatred goes a long, long way.

And there’s not merely one wayward child standing on our shore, but billions. We’re surrounded, especially now as we war with each other over who has the right politics. Christianity itself, the one human proposition that’s supposed to be marked by the very “peace of God,” is a tempest of Biblical proportions.

As such, American Christianity, especially the realm of Evangelicalism, is being ripped in two; one faction devoted to republican politics, the other to liberalism, each casting as many rocks as it can into an already turbulent tub, convinced that some sort of good will come from it.

As I’ve stated multiple times, I’m aware that I’ve thrown my rocks as well. I’m one of many Evangelicals (and non-Evangelicals) who are left scratching my head wondering how we can be so tirelessly devoted to republican politics. But, like so many others, I’ve been sucked into the idea that anyone who supports Donald Trump, especially at this stage in the game, is a “bad” person.

And once I decide someone is “bad,” I can do whatever I want with them – accusations, name-calling, insults, non-listening, etc. I take behaviors that I deem unworthy, and project them onto the bearer, making un-Christian assessments of their worth as a human being, much as Jesus told me not to do that, and hurl away.

The “good” people, of which I’m one, of course, get nothing but an “amen,” or a “you tell ’em” on social media. They think like I do, vote like I do, and by proxy live a life that I’ve deemed worthy. Most importantly, they don’t support political candidates who are bad for our country. If they did, I would be forced to disavow them, because only “bad” people do that.

This is commonly referred to as “binary thinking” – a way of processing our world that puts others in one of two categories, “good,” or “bad.” To a liberal Christian, anything conservative is bad, and vice versa..

For example, I can’t tell you how weary I am of my conservative friends calling all liberal folk “baby killers.” I see it every day on my facebook feed – if you vote liberal, you’re voting in support of the summary execution of the unborn. Not only is that “bad,” only a “bad” person would do that. I’ve tried to make it clear to these friends that there are just as many abortions under conservative administrations than liberal ones, maybe more so, but it doesn’t land.

Liberals have their sacred cows as well. I’m sure I’ll think of one in just a moment…

Being a bad person is not the same as doing something bad. Good people do bad things all the time. It’s fine to believe in the existence of a “bad” vote, or a “bad” politician, but when we extend the behavior to the person, we’ve engaged in a level of binary thinking that forces us to strip the bearer of her value, as we strip ourselves of the choice to view people as God does.

Once that happens, things like insults, accusations, and judgments begin to make sense, much as Jesus commanded us not to cast those stones.

But it doesn’t stop there. Binary thinking also forces us to remove the “bad” people from our presence, limiting ourselves to those who think, act, look and vote like we do.

Another word for this is segregation.

American Christianity’s political segregation conundrum isolates me from very important conversations that are fundamental to a fuller picture of truth, as well as a deeper compassion and understanding for why people don’t think like I do. To be sure, it makes me feel right (read, “good”) and the other side wrong, feeding my need for a binary world, but it also makes me angry, and vulnerable to all the other spiritual ills that come part and parcel to any form of segregation.

So, recently, I’ve begun to invite my conservative Christian friends into a conversation. The goal is little more than listening; they talk about what they believe and why, while I listen, ask questions, etc., then they do the same for me. I’ve only had one taker, and we’ve not gotten very far, but we’re both committed to hearing the other out, and, at the least, considering that there might be a bit of reason in why we land where we do.

This is my meagre attempt at politically desegregating my life so that I might a) have a fuller picture and b) communicate to my conservative friends that I love and respect them, regardless of how I feel about their politics.

It also forces me to grow up a little, taking a good, long, look at the rock in my hand so that I might reconsider what I’m about to do with it.

Most importantly, sitting with someone I don’t agree with insulates me from the sin of binary thinking, and all the crap that comes with it.

I can’t tell you what it’s like to have someone listen, especially on social media, a place that’s anything but a placid mountain lake. And while I could never hope to see the turbulence completely removed from my spiritual family, I can calm things down in my own life. Listening to people who don’t think like I do, and being listened to by them, is a sure step in that direction.

But that will require me to say goodbye to binary thinking, much as I’ve grown to love it, and do my best to replace it with its binary opposite; the weight, importance, and glory of us.

Political cartoon © Kevin Kallaugher: “There’s a lot less talking and listening today and a lot more finger-pointing.”