There's no I in freedom
I just finished reading Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression – And the Unexpected Solutions by Johann Hari. The book details how profits for pharmaceutical companies have driven a biological narrative about depression which obscures many social and environmental factors. Hari chose to explore this topic because of his own life-long battle with depression.
As he uncovered evidence of the social factors – economic insecurity, social isolation, trauma, and others – influencing depression, he reflected on how the biological narrative impacted his self-worth. Prior to conducting research for his book, the focus on brain chemistry led Hari to believe the source of his depression was a personal failing on his part. He was hurting because there was something wrong with him as an individual. However the truth is that improving many of the most significant factors on mental health require large-scale, collective effort.
This individualistic point of view has shaped my thinking for most of my life too. Some describe individualism as one of the key characteristics of white supremacy culture. It is also inseparable from capitalism, which prioritizes private ownership and wealth above all else. Given the power of both of these ideologies in the United States, it is reasonable for most of us to internalize individualism as a philosophy.
Reflecting on Hari’s epiphany about his depression, I realized I’ve made a similar error in my approach to social justice. Time and again, I’ve told myself that as a white, middle-class, cis-male, I need to be responsible for my actions. And this is true, but I’ve placed outsized importance on my actions as an individual. I’ve conflated my privilege with responsibility for systemic problems. The words I use in a meeting, my decision whether to attend a protest, my purchase of a new pair of sneakers… All these choices determine whether or not I support racial, gender, economic, or environmental justice.
Like Hari, this view created tremendous pressure on me to “fix” myself. And as a result, I felt great sadness and shame whenever I failed. This made a feedback loop, where my fear of messing up caused me to freeze or avoid situations where I might cause harm. My desire to be a good white person, a good man, etc. led me to fixate on saying and doing the right things as an individual. Ultimately I showed up less emotionally and physically in my relationships and the fight for social justice.
The truth is, just like depression, the factors that shape oppression are much larger than me. This, of course, is why we have terms like systemic or structural racism. Despite knowing these concepts well, and teaching about them to learners of all ages, I fell into a trap of individualism. Internalize total responsibility for harms that require drastic social change isn’t healthy or productive though.
At the same time, while Hari emphasizes the need for large-scale changes to improve our mental health, he doesn’t dispute the power of individual effort. For example, meditation, participating in community organizations, and finding ways to spend time in nature are a few actions that individuals can take that positively affect their mental health.
Similarly, within the 4 I’s framework of oppression I learned and continue to use in trainings, there is interpersonal and internalized racism. The way I treat others and the messages I choose to consume matter. But they can’t undo the larger edifices of oppression.
This tension between broader change and individual action lives in my Jewish values as well. On the one hand, tikkun olam, repairing the world, is one of the foundational values of the Jewish people. Repairing the world sounds pretty daunting to me. But on the other hand, two prominent teachings seem to counterbalance the weight of tikkun olam. The first is from Rabbi Hillel. He said, “That which is hateful to you do not do to others. All the rest is commentary.” The second comes from Rabbi Tarfon and seems to bridge the distance between collective and personal effort. Rabbi Tarfon taught, “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” In other words, let’s try to do three things:
Keep a big view of the change we need in the world.
Begin working towards that change through the way we treat the people in our community.
Be realistic with ourselves about our power as individuals, without abdicating our responsibility towards making the world a better place.
We are constantly bombarded with messaging that emphasizes individual action. Recycle those soda cans, but don’t think about the carbon footprint of the U.S. military. These are the fallacies that keeps our current structures in place. When I remember that systemic forces shape so much harm, I free myself from unrealistic expectations to undo them myself. When I remind myself that there are many ways to be kind and loving to myself and my neighbors, I feel powerful. Perhaps by keeping these ideas in mind together, we can move towards the collective change we need and deserve.
Other recent writing:
Other recommendations for listening/reading/watching:
Throughline - "There Are No Utopias"
Fuck the Police Means We Don’t Act Like Cops to Each Other by Clementine Morrigan