Writing for Truthdig, Chris Hedges sets the tone:
We have been, like nations on the periphery of empire, colonized. We are controlled by tiny corporate entities that have no loyalty to the nation and indeed in the language of traditional patriotism are traitors. They strip us of our resources, keep us politically passive and enrich themselves at our expense.
Hedges, citing Robert Gamer’s book The Developing Nations, explains that the Rest of Us are to the One-percenters as colonies are to imperials. Hedges:
In it Gamer notes that although the oppressed often do revolt, the object of their hostility is misplaced. They vent their fury on a political puppet, someone who masks colonial power, a despised racial or ethnic group or an apostate within their own political class. The useless battles serve as an effective mask for what Gamer calls the “patron-client” networks that are responsible for the continuity of colonial oppression. The squabbles among the oppressed, the political campaigns between candidates who each are servants of colonial power, Gamer writes, absolve the actual centers of power from addressing the conditions that cause the frustrations of the people. Inequities, political disenfranchisement and injustices are never seriously addressed. “The government merely does the minimum necessary to prevent those few who are prone toward political action from organizing into politically effective groups,” he writes.
So, what about the Occupy movement? Does it worry the One-percenters? Hedges thinks so.
The real danger to the elite comes from déclassé intellectuals, those educated middle-class men and women who are barred by a calcified system from advancement. Artists without studios or theaters, teachers without classrooms, lawyers without clients, doctors without patients and journalists without newspapers descend economically. They become, as they mingle with the underclass, a bridge between the worlds of the elite and the oppressed. And they are the dynamite that triggers revolt.
This is why the Occupy movement frightens the corporate elite. What fosters revolution is not misery, but the gap between what people expect from their lives and what is offered. This is especially acute among the educated and the talented. They feel, with much justification, that they have been denied what they deserve. They set out to rectify this injustice. And the longer the injustice festers, the more radical they become.
Or, maybe not. We’ll see.
When I ponder the American Revolution and its causes, varied to be sure, I appreciate Hedges’s focus on the expectation gap. The American colonists, or at least their putative leaders, weren’t miserable. They did, however, sense opportunity. Why allow ourselves to be governed from afar? Why should we have to pay this or that tax yet be denied political representation? Why do we obey a king? Besides, there are fortunes to be made, none of which should be siphoned off by the Crown.
The recent uprisings in the Middle East suggest the same. People’s expectations, no doubt fueled by the West and its manifestations, changed from passive resignation to we shall overcome. Dictatorship rubs against newfound sensibilities. Therefore, remove the dictator. We’ll figure out the rest as we go along.
Despite his insight, I’m more pessimistic than Hedges. Most of us aren’t miserable, though we may be anxious. Moreover, we’re disinclined to organize ourselves politically. We’re too busy “friending” and “texting” and otherwise chatting about and sharing our decidedly mundane experiences, whether it be an infant’s laughter, a cat’s playful encounter with an iPad, or the most recent sightings of the ubiquitous Kardashians.
Hedges is certainly mindful of popular culture. Indeed, that’s a major point, expressed previously by Walter Lippman and Noam Chomsky—our consent has been and is forever being manufactured. I submit that the implicit consent serves as an obstacle to political action, whether or not organized or coordinated.
We can impose on this phenomenon the conclusions of the research done by Daniel Kahneman and others about the human psyche. We humans are inherently lazy. We’d prefer not to use our “Type 2″ mental processes, because that involves work. But the business of organizing and coordinating requires such Type 2 thinking, what Kahneman also calls “slow.” We’d rather live in the world of “fast,” where instincts rule.
Returning to the American Revolution, that was led by a relative handful of learned men passionate about the possibilities of severing “political bands.” I recall reading a short textbook in college wherein the author estimated that support for revolution among the general population was in the single digits, inadequate numbers to expect a spontaneous irruption. Urgent disdain for England needed manufacturing.
I often wonder about the Canadians, our neighbors to the north. Immersed in profound ignorance of that country’s history, I ask myself why they didn’t similarly revolt. Canada patiently waited until 1982, when it obtained legal independence from the UK, though it remains within the Commonwealth of Nations. To my eye, Canadians are doing quite nicely without the perceived need to revolt.
So, I just don’t see revolution in the cards. My realistic hope is that we reverse the thousand cuts and chip away at the system that no longer works for us—if it ever did. Discretion trumps valor.