A Gendered Pandemic

I’m relieved that some journalists are beginning to pay attention to the fact that COVID-19 is disproportionately impacting people of color.  This outcome is the result of demographics and geography as well as people of color being more likely to be working in essential positions that place people of color at a higher risk of infection.  People of color also have greater susceptibility to the virus due to health risk factors that are the result of a lack of access to healthcare, structural and environmental racism, and the well-documented discrimination within healthcare regarding treatments and prescriptions made available to them.  When you add it all up, it becomes nauseatingly clear why people of color are at higher risk.  I have no doubt that white supremacists are seizing on this outcome as evidence of the biological inferiority of people of color despite there being no biological basis for what human’s call “race.”

There does appear to be a biological, sex-based explanation for why men are more likely to be hospitalized and die from COVID-19.  The prevailing sex-based explanation for this outcome is that women’s immune systems are stronger and more effective at fighting viruses, and this may be linked to the fact that women give birth.  I’ll leave it to my biology colleagues to fill in the missing and technical details in my explanation, but I wanted to make it clear up front that I acknowledge the higher infection and mortality rate among men having some basis in biology.  While very important to our understanding, this still only partially explains what’s going on with men’s higher infection and mortality rates.  What’s absent in this discussion is an understanding of the gendered aspects of COVID-19 and how traditional masculine ideology is impacting the rates of infection and the reactions to mitigation efforts.  I’ve previously made the argument that traditional masculine ideology is a public health hazard; only this time I mean it quite literally.

Men who subscribe to traditional masculine ideology are more likely to engage in risky behaviors.  These behaviors include drinking and smoking in excess, using illegal drugs, careless use of weapons, and driving like a lunatic.  The behaviors may also include not taking public health warnings seriously, dismissing and joking about health risks, not going to a doctor (even when in pain), and ridiculing others for listening to healthcare professionals, scientists, and politicians who enact shelter in place policies.  Real men don’t physically distance, wear face masks, or allow others they perceive as infringing on their juvenile notions of liberty from limiting what they will and will not do.  Real men view men who permit science to direct their behaviors and who act to protect public health as suspect and wimpy while viewing women who attempt to protect public health as over-reacting and too emotional, attempting to emasculate men and “wussify” America.  Real men do not accept directions from others, even when lost and wrong.  Far be it from me to psychologize, but you really have to wonder in amazement at the levels of anxiety, self-doubt, and insecurity among men who react so poorly to people who are attempting to protect them from themselves.

Sociologist Michael Kimmel recounts an exercise he’s done with thousands of men.  He asks men to define what it means to be a “good man.”  The typical responses include, “integrity, honor, being responsible, being a good provider, doing the right thing, putting others first, sacrifice, caring, and standing up for people who need help.”  He then asks these same men to define what it means to be a “real man.”  The typical responses include, “never cry, be strong, don’t show your feelings, play through pain, suck it up, win at all costs, be aggressive, and be a womanizer.”  Take a moment to let this sink in and marvel at this irreconcilable contradiction that men are carrying around.  This simple exercise provides a glimpse of the extent to how completely screwed up our notions of manhood are. Then take note that what these men define as “real manhood” is what’s meant by traditional masculine ideology.  Men who adhere to traditional masculine ideology are putting themselves, their families, and the public at higher risk of infection from COVID-19.  This puts a whole new twist on the concept “toxic masculinity.”

Real men organize protests against shelter in place orders.  These protests strike me as patriarchal celebrations of traditional masculine ideology.  While some women attend these protests, the hyper-masculine tone and tenor of these protests is unmistakably patriarchal.  The protests are often organized by white nationalists and anti-government conspiracy theorists, and extreme adherence to traditional masculine ideology is the undercurrent in all these groups. The protests are mostly male driven expressions of panic over the perceived threat among some men that their masculine identity and false sense of control is in jeopardy due to weak politicians and wimpy intellectuals who are unwilling to take risks and who are placing unnecessary restrictions on their movements.  Self-induced panic and anti-government paranoia are also driving many of these same men to purchase weapons and ammunition.  Men motivated by their own masculine insecurities do not react well to facts or criticism, constructive or otherwise.  No matter how illogical or detrimental, they’ll double-down every time.  For a group of people so quick to dismiss women as overly emotional, their own emotional insecurities are driving them to illogical and often conspiratorial conclusions that put both their personal well-being and public health at risk.

Real men are endangering public health and safety.  Women have an important role to play by not validating “real men” and making it clear to the men in their lives that they’re looking for “good men.”  Ultimately though, the responsibility to change our understanding and expectations of masculinity lies with men.  It’s extremely unfortunate that public debate over how best to proceed during this pandemic will not include some understanding of the ways the spread of COVID-19 and the public debate itself is being framed by toxic masculinity, insecure men, and male leaders who play to the worst in these men.  The toxic masculinity on full display to young boys is having an insidious impact that can only be altered by “good men” with the courage to stand up for gender justice and equity and who understand that good men ARE the real men.

The Shock Doctrine–COVID-19 Edition

I’ve been thinking a lot about Naomi Klein’s 2007 book, The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism.  Klein’s central thesis hinges on an idea advanced by economist Milton Friedman, who served on the President’s Economic Policy Advisory Board during the Reagan administration.  Friedman hailed from The Chicago School of Economics. “The Chicago School” rejected Keynesian economic theory that held sway from the Great Depression till the 1980’s.  Friedman was a driving force behind the implementation of economic liberalization policies that began in the 1980’s and that continue mostly unabated till this day.  He rejected public policies aimed at creating long-term market stability, limiting wealth inequality, and building a strong social safety net and public education system. Instead, Friedman sought to liberate capitalism and the market from government regulations.  Understood today as neoliberalism, this economic theory is more than just a hyped version of laissez-faire; it’s a concerted effort to weaken organized labor, lower taxes on the wealthy and corporations, privatize and dismantle the public sphere (except the Military), and deregulate every industry.  A central goal of neoliberal economic theory can be summed up by anti-tax crusader Grover Norquist who once said, “My plan is to cut government……down to the size we can drown it in the bathtub.”

In the introduction of his book, Capitalism and Freedom, Friedman writes, “Only a crisis–actual or perceived–produces real change. When that crisis occurs, the actions that are taken depend on the ideas that are lying around. That, I believe, is our basic function: to develop alternatives to existing policies, to keep them alive and available until the politically impossible becomes the politically inevitable.”  Disciples of Friedman and proponents of neoliberalism insist that this quote does not endorse the deliberate use of crises to implement unpopular policies while the public is in shock during a disaster.  They insist that Friedman was referring passing policies that are popular but typically politically impossible to legislate.  Critics like Klein counter that the reason the policies in question are politically impossible to begin with is because they are widely unpopular, only benefit the wealthy, and are fundamentally undemocratic.  Klein uses the term “Shock Doctrine” to refer to the deliberate use of disasters to implement policies that the majority of the public would reject under normal circumstances.  The historical record of Shock Doctrine policies domestically and internationally suggests to me that Klein’s analysis is more often than not closer to the truth, emboldening authoritarianism throughout the world.

Not-withstanding this debate over the interpretation of what Friedman meant, I think what everyone understands is that when a society is experiencing a state of collective psychological shock from a natural disaster, terrorist attack, or global pandemic, it presents a unique political opportunity to make significant shifts in public policy, related and unrelated to the disaster in question.  This may be because the public is literally in shock, less willing to fight and resist much less to even pay attention to details of policy proposals.  Or, perhaps it’s because people are simply more willing to change due to the sense of urgency induced by the crisis.  Either way, crises provide political opportunities to significantly change public policies and the long-term trajectory of the nation.  The question is whether the changes implemented via the Shock Doctrine result in disaster (crony) capitalism or a stronger, inclusive democracy.

Recent crises in American history that created the kind of political opportunity that Friedman was referring to include September 11^th, Hurricane Katrina, the Great Recession that began in 2007, and now the COVID-19 pandemic.  The lesson we all should have learned from this history is that when we find ourselves in a crisis we must remain vigilant of abuse of power, cognizant of our own shock and how it can temporarily overwhelm and blind us, and informed about policy-making going on behind the scenes and in the wake of the disaster.  Without September 11^th, we would not have gotten The Patriot Act, which I would argue was largely regressive legislation driven by panic with the intention of limiting rights.  Without the Great Recession of 2007, we may not have gotten The Affordability Care Act, which I would argue was largely progressive legislation that was aspirational with the intention of expanding rights. Both events created a lot of fear, but the fear was harnessed in two different ways by two different Presidents to drive the nation in two different directions.

Friedman wrote that during a crisis, “The actions that are taken depend on the ideas lying around.”  Friedman had many ideas lying around about economic liberalization, and the implementation of many of his ideas radically reshaped our economy, our politics, and the historical trajectory of this nation.  If you have personally benefited from these policies, you likely support neoliberal economic policies and think Friedman is godlike. To this day, admirers of Friedman affectionately refer to him as, “Uncle Miltie.”  If you are among the large majority whose quality of life and standard of living has worsened along with the quality of our air, water, and soil, you may think differently.  People who got the short end of the stick may not know who Friedman was or what neoliberalism means, but most are well aware that history is trending in the wrong direction for them, their family, and the planet.

What ideas are lying around as we work our way through the current crisis?  Do they include loosening environmental regulations, more tax cuts for people who don’t need them, subsidies and bailouts to corporations rather than small businesses and income assistance for workers, allowing energy companies to mine and frack without oversight, voter I.D. laws that will suppress voting among legal citizens who just happen to be disproportionately poor and people of color, lowering vehicle emissions standards, anti-LGBTQ+ policies (See Idaho), defunding the World Health Organization, or a push to privatize social security, public education, and the U.S. postal service?  Or do the ideas lying around include a renewed push to protect the environment, mitigate the impact of climate change, raise wages and protect job security of people whom we now (temporarily?) recognize as essential, and efforts to move toward universal healthcare and expand access to higher education.  The fact that all politicians in all political parties at local, state, and federal levels seize on the opportunity for change during a crisis is the reality of politics.  The direction of the changes will have long-term ramifications on our children, grandchildren, and the planet.  Our lives today have been largely shaped by Friedman and the implementation of neoliberal policies that took root nearly forty years ago.  Will the current crisis simply lead to a continuation of economic liberalization, or will this finally be the crisis that tips the scale and liberates people from the era of neoliberalism and crony, disaster capitalism?

“In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.”  — Albert Einstein

Remembering John Prine

Wednesday, April 8 2020

When the news of John Prine’s death was announced last night, I was deeply saddened and sorry for what the world just lost.  Today, as I stare at my computer trying to make the best of a semester thrown into disarray by COVID-19, I recall my first John Prine concert.  The wording below is mine, but it’s definitely thirteen years old.  I have mostly left it intact, save for a few grammatical clean-ups.  Despite my somewhat lackluster early writing, I think I managed to capture the essence of Prine that won so many people over.

If you’re not familiar with John Prine and the news of his death is just another story in your newsfeed today, I urge you to introduce yourself to John Prine’s music.  No matter what genres of music appeal to you, you can be guaranteed that many of the musicians you listen to have been influenced by Prine.  Upon first listen you might think, “that’s sort of odd.”  If you listen a few more times you’ll think, “that’s not too bad.”  If you keep listening, you’ll realize you’re listening to lyrical perfection.  He truly was, “The Mark Twain of Songwriting.”  It took some more time after the concert I recount below, but eventually I learned to fully appreciate the artist that John Prine was.

I had the privilege of seeing Prine in concert four times, including once at The Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, the original home of the Grand Ole Opry. The last time I saw Prine in concert was in Madison, Wisconsin, in May of 2019.  What made that concert even more special was that I was able to share the experience with my family.  I feel blessed to have had that experience.  My recount of my first Prine concert follows.

Goodbye, John.  Thank you.

Concert Review–John Prine

Friday, March 9, 2007

Springfield, IL—Sangamon Auditorium—University of Illinois at Springfield

Accidental Perfection

It was a rainy but unseasonably warm evening when John Prine came to Springfield, IL.  We arrived with plenty of time to wander around a bit, find our seats, and absorb the aura of the evening.  Maura O’Connell was the opening act.  I was familiar with Maura’s music, a pleasant soulful Irish woman with a voice that only seemed to grow stronger in the absence of music.  It was hard not to enjoy her, despite the grumblings of those around us who clearly were there to only hear John and who I suspect were even more perturbed by a woman sharing the stage with one of their folk heroes.

My anticipation grew as we reached the short intermission after the opening act.  I was familiar enough with Prine’s music to know that we were in for a great evening of music, but I underestimated him drastically.  I expected a 60-year old man to walk out on stage in the laid-back fashion that I had grown accustomed to on his albums and to wander around a bit on stage, both literally and musically.

This rather casual image that I had in mind was challenged the moment Prine appeared on stage with two accompanying musicians, one who played electric guitar and another who played bass.  All three appeared on stage in suits, all with ties except John.  They grabbed their instruments and immediately went to work.  Prine grabbed his guitar, made a brief apology to the crowd that it had taken him so long to come back to the area, and segued right into “Spanish Pipedream.”  Pounding away at his guitar with his left leg flailing out, he approached the microphone smiling from ear to ear.  There was a palpable sense of urgency in his approach, and I began to wonder how long he would be able to keep this up.  It was already 9:20, and I started to think this was going to be a short evening.

Two songs later he pulled out an older song titled “Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You into Heaven Anymore.”  Earlier in the evening Diane remarked that she wanted to hear him sing this song, but I expressed doubt that he would play it given how old it was. As he approached the last verse he stopped and talked to the crowd briefly, citing the more recent war in Iraq as an “informal request from the Bush administration” to begin singing this song again.  As he made his way further into the set, he dismissed the other two musicians and performed approximately 6 or 7 songs solo, all classics and crowd pleasers.  I thought this might be a sign we were nearing the end of his show.  I was wrong.  One at a time, the two guitarists reappeared on stage and the concert took an upward turn once more as Prine seemed to get his second wind.  For over two hours this went on, only to be followed by a three-song encore for another 20 minutes.

One image I will always remember from this show is the way Prine would periodically walk to the back of the stage where there was a small table and get a drink of water.  As the crowd cheered whatever song he had just finished, he would turn and look at the crowd with the most joyous, happy smile you can possibly imagine.  It was as if he was in disbelief that everyone had come out to hear him play or that everyone still enjoyed his music so much.  He would grin, sort of half wave to the crowd with his little pot belly sticking out, set down his water, and return to the microphone.  What I keep coming back to as I reflect on his performance is his passion, intensity, and sense of urgency, all mixed in with this sense of happiness, joy, and simple contentment.  There was a certain humbleness to Prine.  At one point he began to play a song and some of the crowd started screaming immediately.  He stopped playing and pointed out to them that, “I have five songs that begin just like this.”

I have seen many concerts in the past three years, four by my favorite musical artist, Greg Brown.  Greg gives great concerts.  His music and lyrics are some of the best I have heard.  However, John Prine really won me over.  I still don’t appreciate his music as much as I do Greg’s, but the tenacity with which Prine approached his show was unparalleled.  I wonder if he has always been this way or if this is a more recent shift in his persona, perhaps the result of a brush with death by throat cancer?

This concert was a great way to begin my Spring Break, and it will forever serve as a marking point in my memory when I reflect back on this time in my life.  Prine is about more than his music.  He clearly loves what he does and that makes all the difference no matter what you do.

Hammering Out Justice with The Arts

It’s pointless for me to write about the politics and science of the COVID-19 pandemic.  People who read this blog already understand what science teaches us about this virus.  My readers also know which public officials are making the difficult and sometimes unpopular decisions to save lives and protect public health and safety and which public officials are ignoring science and demonstrating more concern with protecting the interests of wealth, corporations, and short-term profits for Wall Street investors.  If the CDC’s projections for COVID-19 fatalities both with and without mitigation has not awoken people to the seriousness of this issue, nothing will.  I’m going to address another facet of this pandemic.

“One of these days I’m gonna lay this hammer down”

While reading, watching, and listening to the steady drumbeat of news alerts over the past several weeks, I’ve been thinking about another aspect of the eventual aftermath of this pandemic.  Will we struggle to regain our humanity after months of quarantine and social distancing? Will we hug our friends again?  Will we recoil at human touch?  Will we freeze in public every time someone coughs or sneezes?  I have no idea exactly how our lives are going to change, but I do know the arts will play a fundamental role in restoring our humanity and reminding us of the triumphs, beauty, and joys of life.  Artistic expression will help heal the world, make us whole, and reconnect.  Artistic expression holds the promise to awaken all of humanity to our fragility, vulnerability, and our irrefutable inter-connectedness with one another and with the planet.  The impending era of artistic expression holds the promise to revolutionize our politics, de-centering our focus on economic growth and refocusing our attention on public policies that take care of people in need and protect the planet.

“And I won’t have to drag this weight around”

The dominant, commercialized view of artistic expression must give way to an understanding of artistic expression as a form of public pedagogy.  According to the International Centre of Public Pedagogy, “public pedagogy includes analysis of the domains of cultural education, public space, popular culture and political struggle.”  Understanding the arts as public pedagogy fosters a deeper appreciation of the arts and a stronger sense of urgency about the fundamental role of the artistic realm to the preservation of our humanity and democracy itself.  I’m not denying that there is an economic component to artistic expression.  Obviously, artists must be able to live and pay their bills to create, produce, and perform their art.  Artists must be compensated, both by individual patrons of the arts and by well-informed public policy that economically supports and recognizes the myriad of ways the arts and art education positively impact the abilities and skill sets of people in every occupation.  There is a sufficient amount of research detailing the ways that exposure and participation in the arts positively impacts the abilities of scientists, mathematicians, and just about every person in every occupation that exists.  Arts education enhances our critical thinking and problem-solving skills. The arts teach us social and emotional skills necessary for the development of our emotional intelligence, which serves as the foundation for empathy.

“When there ain’t no hunger and there ain’t no pain”

Viewing the arts solely as a source of entertainment, amusement, and just another business industry is a narrow and distorted way to think about the arts.  Painters, sculptors, potters, sketch artists, photographers, videographers, cinematographers, animators, dancers, authors and poets, actors on film and on stage, comedians, musicians, writers, directors, and all the people behind the scenes who make art happen are not (typically) people motivated for economic reasons.  The art these folks create does more than hold up a mirror to our thinking, attitudes, and behavior.  Their artistry challenges us to think carefully about who we are, what we believe, and how we need to change to be better human beings and develop empathic relations.  The arts force us to confront our mortality, think beyond ourselves, and carefully consider the long-term implications of our actions or inactions as they relate to the future of humanity and the planet.  The arts serve as an antidote to the narcissistic hedonism that a culture of rugged individualism and unregulated capitalism encourages.  The arts explore and confront our bigotries that are used to justify exclusion and rationalize inhumane treatment of others. The arts encourage understanding, caring, compassion, and inclusivity.  All forms of artistic expression are in part an analysis of the normal, and when the normal is deemed unjust the arts function as an indictment of the normal.  At its best, artistic expression is a marriage of mind and heart, a unification of knowledge and empathy that nurtures our emotional intelligence and produces a politics of compassion and inclusivity.  The arts teach us how to love.

“Then I won’t have to swing this thing”

When the COVID-19 pandemic subsides, artists will take center stage and facilitate our collective mental and emotional healing.  Their art will reawaken us to the joy of living, urge us to reexamine our humanity, and push us to change the way we think and behave.  If we’re willing to listen, watch, and learn, artists will help us understand that our collective humanity is dependent on being more informed and, above all, more compassionate and empathetic toward others.  Artistic expression as public pedagogy has the potential to transform our thinking, our public policies, and the way we live and interact with others.  Whether we listen and learn from the arts, or quickly retreat to a dysfunctional normal, will determine our willingness and level of readiness to prevent unnecessary human suffering and planetary exploitation.

“One of these days I’m gonna lay this hammer down”

As people all over the world shelter in place and practice social distancing, it’s imperative we remain as emotionally connected to our common humanity as we are able.  We cannot afford any additional mental disconnection and separation. The arts will help us reconnect and strengthen those connections.  For the time being, it’s important to take the time to listen to the music album that impacted your life and re-watch the film, the play, the musical, or dance that made a lasting impact on you a decade ago.  Reread the novel or poems that changed your life.  Use the internet to get reacquainted with artists of all kinds; the photographer, the sculptor, or the painter who inspired and made you feel something long ago.  It’s crucial that we make the effort to remember and embrace the emotions that make us human. In the process, we all will be reminded of our common humanity, the beauty life offers, and the hope that springs eternal.  And maybe, just maybe, we might find the strength and courage to change our thinking, our behavior, and our public policies to alleviate and prevent unnecessary human suffering and environmental destruction.

This pandemic will change us. The arts will implore us to change for the better.

“Art is not a mirror held up to reality but a hammer with which to shape it.” ― Bertolt Brecht

Inspired by Steve Earle’s song, Steve’s Hammer.