The What About Me Ethos: Tea Parties, Health Care, Haiti, and Avatar

Odd, isn't it, how seemingly unrelated bits of information, when juxtaposed, often resonate?

This last week I've written about three almost completely unrelated news items: 1) the Haitian disaster and Christians' response to it; 2) the Tea Party movement; and 3) some evangelical leaders' queasiness at the James Cameron movie Avatar. I had really no notion that these would link to a common theme at all until today, when I read news reports about the Massachusetts election on Tuesday to replace Sen. Ted Kennedy.

In a traditionally true-blue state, a Republican candidate, Scott Brown, now seems neck-and-neck with the Democratic candidate, Martha Coakley. At stake in this election is the Democrats' tenuous hold on capitol hill power. Should the Democrats lose this seat, the upset will widely be interpreted as a watershed moment in politics, where President Obama's ambitious domestic agenda is put in check by a more-conservative-than-he-bargained-for public.

Worse, for the Democrats at least, is the fact that the health care reform bill so painstakingly advanced to House/Senate negotiations phase will almost certainly tank, as Brown vocally opposes the administration's reform efforts.

While I've been less than pleased with some of the deals (I think that's a generous word) cut with various Democratic senators to garner their support, I support the health care bill as mainly a good and necessary step. The thought that the months of anxious work on the bill could be undone by a narrow state election bothers me.

How does this all link back to the Tea Party/Avatar/Haiti intersection? It all came together for me with this quote from Mary Beth Cahill, John Kerry's former campaign manager who was queried by the Washington Post about the impact of a possible Republican victory. Like most of the other experts the paper asked, Cahill doubted that Brown would end up winning. If he does, however, Cahill predicts that Democrats will have a round of finger-pointing followed by some grim soul-searching, trying to figure out what things need doing before the midterm elections. Cahill offers one pressing reform: "We will have to provide an answer to voters who think, 'What about me?"

Cahill means that Democrats will have to be better about articulating how and why various administration policies will benefit Americans in the short term.

What about me? This, it seems, is the question roiling about in the many Tea Party protests, most of which identify and vilify any number of Big Red Devils (government, illegal immigrants, other countries, elites, liberals, the poor) portrayed as snatching away the benefits and rights and privileges that should be, well, mine. Enough with entitlement programs! Enough with taxes for foreign aid, universal health care, or welfare! What about me? That question serves as the beating heart of populist libertarianism today, the driving force of free market capitalism.

It is also the antithesis of what I understand to be the agape spirit of Christ. I am depressed beyond measure that an angry, petulant what about me? characterizes so much of the US spirit today. I'm frustrated that the answer to high-level greed of CEOs seems to be an argument that appeals to the lower-level greed of the middle classes: it's my turn for a piece of the pie. I'm upset, as well, that the Democrats--and frankly President Obama--have largely capitulated to these baser instincts in the health care reform process. All through the debates, I hear arguments about how health care reform will or will not lower my personal cost or quality of care. Absent entirely is the deeper question about the kind of society we want to create: one that cares for its members or one that does not. I hear no calls to sacrifice, no appeal to the ideal of a society in which those with care for those without.

Part of the popularity of Avatar, I'm gathering, involves Cameron's presentation of a sci-fi world in which all lifeforms are literally, biologically connected. All animals and many plants have biological "plugs" (a cluster of neuron tendrils) that allow any two of them to connect and share feelings, thoughts, etc. I found the plot device a bit silly, to be honest (the blue-skinned alien heroes have their tendril-things emerging from the ends of their ponytails, so there's a lot of hair-plugs--ha!). But apparently this notion of mutual co-existence and its ethical ramifications have caught many people's attention and passion.

Cameron has created a (for many people) compelling world in which the individual cannot be the prime unit of political or social consideration. In his world, What about me? becomes impossible to answer apart from What about everyone? By contrast, the villains of the film are overtly (one might say one-dimensionally) painted as selfish capitalists: they work for "The Corporation," they destroy nature in order to mine "unobtainium," they worry about profits and personal motives above all. (I should note here there are other aspects of Avatar that I feel undermine such a reading, but I'll deal with these later).

Only rarely do we see something like that trans-individual, others-first ethos in action. And this brings me to the Haiti disaster, which--comments by Pat Robertson et al. aside--appears to be an example of most of the world dropping everything and sending money/supplies/people to help a country in trouble. It's the What about everyone overtaking What about me, and no giant blue CGI figures are needed.

But of course Haiti is an exception, not the rule, and the world's attention to it is certain to be short-lived. It's only a matter of time until someone here begins wondering how and why we spent X millions of dollars to help a perpetually impoverished country (I mean, can't they just pull themselves up by their own bootstraps?) when Y US segment of the population is suffering from Z trouble. Governmental assistance means taxes. And while I've heard many a conservative Christian spokesperson wax lyrical about the virtues of private charity (a check to the Red Cross or something), heaven help anyone who suggests that perhaps a tax could be levied or increased to make sure that no one goes without adequate medical care.

"Rescue the perishing" transforms to "Don't tread on me" faster than a lightning strike. How is this logic change possible? How can Christians consider them selves other-directed in all things except in civil society? I hear constantly from the Christian right how one's faith should dictate one's political orientation in terms of culture-war issues. Why then is it so hard for me to see how Christian faith directs the economic policies the right supports?

I am not, I have to say, a fan of Avatar for a number of reasons. But to the extent that it taps into and cultivates an ethos that disrupts what about me?, I think there's some hope there.

More tomorrow,

JF

Avatar and Worldviews

First, a follow-up note on Haiti:

Well, the blogosphere's reaction to Pat Robertson's statements about Haiti seems to be fairly unified: how dare he?! Among the more creative reactions are a letter to Robertson from "the Devil" and this segment from John Stewart's Daily Show:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Haiti Earthquake Reactions
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Crisis

Just beautiful, really, Stewart's Bible-based rebuttal.

So consonant is the chorus of voices condemning Robertson (and Rush Limbaugh) that I feel safe in moving on to other things to discuss (though the Haitian crisis is ongoing--our prayers support ought not cease).

Anyone seen Avatar, James Cameron's latest mega-blockbuster? Silly question, really; it's been topping box office charts for the past month or so. I saw it with my father in 3-D. I found it entertaining enough at the time, but I wasn't blown away. Cameron dresses up a thin melodrama (aptly described as Pocahontas meets Ferngully) with $300 million (or is it $500 million?) in special effects animation. Half a billion dollars does buy some impressive images.

Wikipedia provides an adequate plot synopsis if you've missed it thus far. Basically: the capitalist military-industrial complex gets bested by we're-all-connected, back-to-nature primitivism. Jake, the disabled main character, finds new life by downloading his consciousness into an "avatar"--a genetically crafted hybrid of human and alien (i.e., the tall, blue natives of the planet being plundered by above-mentioned military-industrial complex).

Two reactions to this film have caught my interest. First, not surprisingly, some evangelicals take issue with the film's worldview. Alex McFarland, a Christian evangelist and president of Southern Evangelical Seminary, has raised concerns about the film's pantheistic worldview and anti-capitalist critique.

Second, more surprising to me, is that some people are really, really, really, really into this film. The same escapist, back-to-nature pantheism that McFarland cautions against proves to many fans so enticing, so much better than drear reality, that the Avatar movie website's forums have a number of threads dedicated to dealing with the disappointment that Pandora doesn't actually exist (see here, for example). The posts on there range from the light (e.g., "gee, I wish I could hang out on Pandora") to the sad (e.g., "my life is so boring here. I wish I lived there on that world.") to the worrisome, as in people becoming clinically depressed after watching the film. This CNN article on Avatar blues quotes one forum poster:

"Ever since I went to see 'Avatar' I have been depressed. Watching the wonderful world of Pandora and all the Na'vi made me want to be one of them. I can't stop thinking about all the things that happened in the film and all of the tears and shivers I got from it," Mike posted. "I even contemplate suicide thinking that if I do it I will be rebirthed in a world similar to Pandora and the everything is the same as in 'Avatar.' "

Yeek.

What's odd is that I had nothing remotely like that reaction to the film. It was a movie with big, loud effects and big, loud dramaturgy (much like Cameron's Titanic, really). Something, however, clearly and strongly touched a great many people watching the film. I'm curious as to whether this something is similar to the elements that triggered McFarland's alarm bells...

I suspect that some of McFarland's unease has to do with Avatar's spirituality.

More tomorrow,

JF