We need to call out politicians who use mental illness as a scapegoat

Addressing the nation in the wake of Wednesday’s Florida school shooting, President Trump told the victims they “are never alone.” He offered to do “whatever we can do to ease your pain,” while committing “to working with local leaders to tackle the difficult issue of mental health.” In a tweet, he had this to say:

So many signs that the Florida shooter was mentally disturbed, even expelled from school for bad and erratic behavior. Neighbors and classmates knew he was a big problem. Must always report such instances to authorities, again and again!

Other “true friends and champion[s]” were quick to add their two cents: Rick Scott called the shooting “pure evil.” Marco Rubio tweeted that the attack “was designed & executed to maximize loss of life,” but said it was too early to discuss gun control. The BBC reports that Rubio told Fox News "You should know the facts of that incident before you run out and prescribe some law that you claim could have prevented it.”

I’m not entirely sure what facts Rubio is waiting on here. We know that the FBI was notified twice that this individual might be planning such an attack, and we know the school was aware of the individual. We also know the shooter attained his AR15 (every gun nut’s favourite toy) legally.

When Mr. Trump asks people to report the “mentally disturbed,” I really don’t understand the logic. All the arguments for gun control are already out there, so it’s not hard to understand why this tweet is complete bullshit. Mr. Trump’s clear misunderstanding of mental health is the most obvious place to begin. Though the “mentally disturbed” argument is the common fallback of Trump, the GOP, and the NRA, few have ever really given an adequate definition for what they mean when referring to a “mentally disturbed” individual.

This is dangerous. Mr. Trump never defines exactly what he means by the terms “mentally disturbed” and “big problem,” and he never defines what he means what he means when he asks (who, exactly?) to “report such instances to authorities.” I guess President Trump is unaware that the FBI was already notified about this particular individual. Twice.

The president’s lack of clarity in this tweet leaves far too much room for individual interpretation. Given the continued prevalence of toxic stereotypes which are can be easily debunked with five minutes on the internet, it is not unreasonable to ask the President of the United States to qualify his statements.

Because right now it seems to me as though the President of the United States is aligning mental illness with white supremacy and mass murder for the express political purpose of backing the private interest group that paid over $17 million to GOP candidates in the 2015-2016 election cycle.

As someone who’s dealt with a lifelong struggle with depression and severe anxiety, I take personal offense to this. As someone who’s struggled with a health care system that can’t seem to provide answers for myself and others close to me, I’m angry that this kind of rhetoric is not being more widely questioned.

For a relative summation of my position here, I’d recommend watching John Oliver’s excellent segment on the subject. Mental illness – a health issue that effects an increasingly vast segment of the western society in a variety of ways – is the favoured scapegoat scape goat of gun lobbyists and the politicians who gladly accept their money. It happened after Las Vegas, and it happened after Orlando: these politicians and lobbyists are contributing a dangerous rhetoric to mental health discussions in order to avoid dealing with the political reality that the right has lost the gun control debate on all rational and intellectual grounds.

In practice, this means that politicians like Trump and Rubio consistently focus on the fact that the attacker can be broadly labelled “mentally ill.” Meanwhile, the systematic factors that contributed to the shooting –the killer’s background in foster care, his ties to white supremacists, the AR15 he was legally allowed to own despite multiple tip-offs to the authorities that he was potentially homicidal – are ignored.

The standard Republican response also allows sweeps politically inconvenient talking points under the rug – like the deleted Instagram account in which the shooter showed off his Make America Great Again swag.

After all, he was disturbed. Why dig deeper?

When mental illness is only just beginning to lose its stigma in the west, it is the responsibility of moral individuals to question the narrative Trump is setting. By consistently aligning the experience of legitimately “sick individual[s]” with the fraction of mentally ill people who turn violent (almost always due to other factors such as, I stress again, white supremacy), Trump and others like him are hijacking a growing awareness over an important issue for political purposes.

To my knowledge, Mr. Trump has not once publically mentioned mental illness outside the context of gun control.

Since this rhetoric has an impact that echoes far beyond the borders of the United States, the responsibility to criticize the precedent set at that country’s highest level also falls outside those borders. That’s why I’m writing this piece. That’s why I’d like to see Prime Minister Trudeau do more than give his “deepest condolences” in between his Team Canada tweets.

In the future, I’d like to see the Prime Minister and other Parliamentarians directly question the toxic narrative that is consistently being spread in our southern neighbours. At the very least, this would be a good time to bring up the issue of Canada’s chronically underfunded mental health system.

One final note. About a year ago, I wrote a post in which I pointed out the value of history in interpreting the new Trump presidency. I asked readers to be vigilant, using an example from the historical moment most clearly comparable to today’s America, 1930s Germany. I attempted emphasize how Hitler utilized public apathy as a key weapon in Germany’s slow move from democracy to dictatorship.

The mentally ill were one of this dictatorship’s first distinct targets, along with Jewish and Romany communities.  

In addition to Nazi Germany, Soviet and post-Soviet Russia, Imperial Japan, and Communist Cuba all explicitly utilized the mentally ill for political purposes, often to delegitimize political opponents. The list goes on. In the west, a time when mental illness was a primary fallback for those who opposed female suffrage remains in living memory. Though as a culture we seem to have forgotten this.

I’m angry. Gun lobbyists and their political allies are using the lived experience of millions – my lived experience – to justify their blatant corruption and inaction. We should all be angry.

Book Review: Between the World and Me

I recently reread this book as part of a travel study done through the University. The theme of the course was "Slavery, Freedom, and Civil Rights," with the goal of understanding the ongoing legacies of racial conflicts. I attempted to synthesize some of my thoughts on Coates' work in an academic review of the book:

Book Review: Coates, Ta-Nehisi. Between the World and Me. New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2015.

In his timely work Between the World and Me, national correspondent for The Atlantic Ta-Nehisi Coates examines a black man’s place in a modern world plagued by a legacy of racial oppression. In light of recent high profile events and modern racial tensions, Coates perfectly captures the struggles faced by African Americans in today’s America. Framing the work as a letter to his son, Coates’ prose has a poetic imperfection that lends to the creation of an aching poignancy. The father’s love for his son lives on the page. The fear he feels for his child’s life, the pain he feels at the loss of so many other children, gives the work an intensely personal appeal. Between the World and Me is a deeply insightful examination of how the legacies of slavery and Jim Crow have resulted in a continued economic, social, and intellectual segregation in modern America. In the book, Coates illustrates with painful clarity the insidious dangers faced by black men and women in the Untied States now more than ever.

One part autobiography and one part a defiant reckoning, Between the World and Me is Coates’ attempt to convey to his son a haunting legacy of violence intrinsically tied to their very identity. Taking inspiration from the works of Richard Wright, James Baldwin, and other African American writers, Coates seeks to succinctly synthesize four hundred years of oppression while capturing a specific modern political moment. His outlook is bleak. His prose is not cluttered by sentimentality, and, unlike many of those who write on similar issues, he does not suggest the inevitability of justice. Between the World and Me is painfully aware that significant progress is neither inevitable nor likely.

Coates attempts to convey this harsh reality to his son, in order that his son might safely navigate a world that resents his existence. Though at many points Coates tends towards poetic abstraction, he centers his letter on a physical theme of the body. The brutal reality that Coates confronts can be seen in this motif. As Coates puts it, amongst all the economic, social, and historical issues, it is the physical, worldly vessel that suffers. Here, we see the titular implication, that the black body and the world around it are entirely separate. In a sense, there is something solidly between Coates and his son, and the world around them; thus, because they are not truly a part of the world, they are inherently endangered by it.

Coates’ bleak but realistic outlook is seen in this theme of physical danger, and illustrated poignantly in his discussions of the issues of domestic discipline and police brutality. For African Americans, both matters are inherently physical problems informed a multitude of factors. These physical problems are illustrated by the high profile killings of black men such as Treyvon Martin and Tamir Rice, to name a few. These deaths, Coates says, are emblematic of the systematic devaluation of the black body, both economically, socially, and, ultimately, physically. Simply put, it is less costly for a police officer to accidentally kill a black man than a white man because the world values one body over the other. This suggestion is the lynchpin of what Coates tragically conveys to his son. He wishes his son to understand this reality, so that he may best protect himself in the wider world. Indeed, Coates suggests that this is all that African American parents can do in a hostile world: prepare their children for how best to deal with that hostility. As Ta-Nehisi Coates painfully illustrates, the black mother beats her child so the child knows how not to be beaten by the police. Such brutal illustrations abound in the book.

Framing the work as a letter to his son is, perhaps, the most effective literary choice made by Coates. This gives the reader a sense of Coates’ personal investment that might otherwise have been missed. The theme of childrearing and parental love is a widely accessible one, and provides the author a method of reaching those outside of his frame of experience. This stylistic choice is one way Coates attempts to reach an audience outside of the African American community. Indeed, it is one way in which he attempts to bridge the gap to which the work’s title refers, between himself and the world.

However, the intensity of Coates’ investment should give the reader pause. It is important to acknowledge that, as poignant and effective as the work is, it is ultimately a conveyance of Coates’ own opinions. These opinions are, of course, coloured by the biographical details that Coates mentions. As such, the book cannot necessarily be read as an introduction to the study of race relations. Coates is not a neutral voice, and his own biases seep into how he addresses these issues. Once this fact is understood, however, Coates’ biases ultimately work towards the book’s purpose. Between the World and Me is an attempt to capture a unique perspective. To understand that perspective, one must understand the historical and social connotations it entails. In order to appreciate the work fully, the reader must be at least somewhat familiar with the subject of race relations. If the reader is well informed, Coates’ biases matter little, as he does not try to hide them. Ultimately, Between the World and Me is an attempt to illustrate the experience of a specific segment of the American population and convey that experience to an audience largely incapable of understanding it.

We cannot buy into myths about Canadian exceptionalism

At the beginning of last month, the New York Times ran an opinion piece by Nicholas Kristof lauding the Canadian attitude towards refugees, referring to Canada as “the one great exception” to an international community that is steadily turning its back to refugees and immigrants. Given events in Europe and America, it’s easy to imagine Canada as a last bastion against intolerance. Examples like the government’s promise to spend $28 million on Yazidi refugees and Justin Trudeau’s charming publicity pieces make it easy to give a face to Canadian exceptionalism.

It is important that Canadians look past that face.

It is certainly true that Canadian attitudes towards refugees have been generally more favourable than much of the world in recent months, particularly when one makes a direct comparison to our southern neighbour. Just look at Ben Carson’s recent comments that conflate slaves and immigrants. No wonder the months that Donald Trump has been president have seen a dramatic increase in the number of immigrants crossing the U.S. – Canadian border.

There is a danger, however, that this continued presentation of Canada as a quasi-utopian space may lead to Canadians being desensitized to the problems inherent in our own country.

Canada, as a nation, is often misunderstood by much of the world. Simply google Canada, and one will find a wealth of entertaining and rarely accurate stereotypes. The great white north is often seen as a singular mass of friendly semi-Americans who live in igloos and apologize for everything.

While this image, like most stereotypes, is probably based on a degree of truth, it contributes to a dangerous single narrative in which Canadians consist of a single one-dimensional characteristic: their acceptance. The fact that many Canadians seem to buy into this narrative about themselves only increases its danger.

To paint all Canadians with a single brushstroke – in the case of refugees and immigrants, “accepting” seems to be the buzzword being applied – is a mistake consistently made by much of the world exemplified by the Kristof article. Canada is a vast country with a population of some 35 million and a landmass smaller than only Russia. The diversity of Canada’s population is reflected in the diversity of opinion held by Canadians.

Consider the issue of refugees. As I’ve said already, Canadians are ostensibly, and probably on average of late, more accepting of outsiders than the United States; our official policies of multiculturalism and history of liberal leadership speak to a national disposition that is generally accepting of minorities.

Yet it is a stretch to say that Canada is “leading the free world.” To claim that Canada is the sole exception to a pattern of intolerance is perilously simplistic and irresponsible.

Such claims are incongruent with Canada’s history of racialized immigration policy and the ongoing mistreatment of First Nations communities. Sure, we now have Justin Trudeau, a prime minister whose views on immigration and multiculturalism seem to be generally geared towards acceptance. But let’s not forget that two years ago the man in the PM’s seat was advocating policies that were culturally isolationist if not downright racist. Also consider the fact that the idealism that swept Trudeau in the office has very much dissipated.

Canada has yet to elect a Trump-like figure, yet many Canadians are expressing the desire for to have our own swamp drained of both political corruption and ethnic diversity. The rise of Kevin O’Leary as a possible standard bearer for a Canadian populist movement presents a terrifying potential for the next election. The press received by the Canadian business mogul has very much mirrored the press received by Donald Trump back in 2015, with a steady increase in political engagement preceding a run for office.

A recent study conducted by McGill University determined that Canadian attitudes towards immigration are not as exceptional as many imagine. The study argues that perceived Canadian exceptionalism is largely due to the fact that the country’s political system has not suffered any large degree of stress from immigration issues. What happens when the steadily brewing resentment towards outsiders becomes the central issue of national politics? The results of this study seem to suggest that a serious anti-immigration movement is not unlikely over the next few years.

This brings me back to the Kristof article. Certainly it is nice for the world to have a place like Canada to imagine as a pillar of acceptance, yet it is important for Canadians themselves not to buy into this sentiment. Canada is not immune to the wave of prejudice and isolationism that has swept the western world. Increasingly, Canadians (particularly those in rural areas) are turning towards a misplaced sense of isolationism and nationalism.

Canadians need to be aware of the prejudices of their country, and the prejudices they themselves may hold. We need to avoid complacency, and we need to avoid accepting assumptions about our nation’s own moral infallibility.

If we do not do so, we will end up with a Trump of our own. And that’s just the beginning.

It Can Happen Again

On February 27^th, 1933, the seat of the German government, the Reichstag Building, was set alight by a young Dutch communist. For the previous few years, tension between the German government and communist groups had steadily been rising. Many feared the country was on the verge of an uprising similar to the one that had happened in Russia two decades earlier. Indeed, much of the world feared communism in this time, just as it feared an international Jewish conspiracy. These two groups were the spectres that haunted the nightmares of the average European and North American.

The arson of the Reichstag Building gave the newly inaugurated German Chancellor, Adolph Hitler, the rhetorical space to purge the government of dissenting elements. Just over a month later, in response to the arson, the Enabling Act of 1933 was passed. This Act gave Hitler the power to suspend German civil liberties and act without oversight from the government’s legislative arm; the resulting creation and legitimization of the SS and SA paramilitary forces turned Germany into a police state with one man at its head. The funneling of powers into the executive branch gave the Nazis the ability to remilitarize the country and begin implementing the final solution. All this was, ostensibly, done in the name of combatting terrorism.

In Hitler, the German people had seen someone who didn’t play by the book, someone who would bring a breath of fresh air to broken system. The world was in the midst of the Great Depression. Germany’s economy was suffering and its people suffered with it. The country had been forced to pay humiliating reparations for an old war. Germany had become a shadow of what it once was. Hitler knew this, and used it to his advantage.

Hitler himself was a political maverick, a former soldier who rose to power on a wave of public discontent. His entry into public life came in the form of the now famous beer hall speeches. In them, he would provide improvised and impassioned tirades on the failures of the Weimar government. This passive but vocal commentary eventually moved into his running for office. Despite the vague nature of his policies, Hitler’s charisma combined with an engagement in popular frustrations to carry him to the chancellorship.  

When implementing his authoritarian policies, Hitler did not begin by sending Jews, homosexuals, and other minorities to the gas chambers. He consolidated power slowly and methodically, tapping into existing prejudices and fears. He worked methodically, using his charisma and half-facts to desensitize people. He promised, at every step, that his measures would only be temporary, in order to protect Germans and make their country great again.

The circumstance we face today is not the same as the 1930s. Our world is not that of 1930s Europe. The idea that history repeats itself is misplaced. History does not repeat itself, yet there are patterns, circumstances that mirror those that came before. In this manner, history can teach us.

The burning of the Reichstag Building was crucial to the rise of Nazi Germany and the establishment of Hitler as a dictator. Without the arson, or another such public event, Hitler would not have been able to transform a relatively functional democracy into an autocracy. Germany would not have been remilitarized and many atrocities of the Second World War would have been somewhat mitigated, if not entirely avoided.

Someone told me recently that nothing like the Holocaust or the other atrocities of the Second World War could happen in the modern world. People are too well informed. Safeguards are in place to stop such totalitarianism. Any actions being taken that might seem similar to those of the 1930s are limited in scope and necessary for our safety and security. We are wiser than our predecessors.

I’m sure that Germans in the 1930s believed the same thing about themselves. By telling ourselves it cannot happen, we breed the atmosphere in which oppression thrives.

Ask yourself: how would the western world react if an event like the Reichstag Fire were to happen today? How would we react if a bomb were to go off on Capitol Hill tomorrow?

It can happen again.

If we are not vigilant, it will happen. 

A few thoughts on the Presidency of Barack Obama

2008 was the first presidential election I remember, if only vaguely. I remember the smear campaign, attacks from both sides and I understood the significance of the moment: America’s first black president. But my observation was made through a lens of juvenile disinterested. I was twelve. Politics meant little to me.

In 2012, at sixteen, I was far more aware of the world around me. I read the news, attempted to engage with it on a meaningful level. Morally, emotionally, and intellectually, I was a rough approximation of the person I am now. The election race between Barack Obama and Mitt Romney was, as all presidential elections inevitably are, an international spectacle, and I observed with interest. I watched the debates, researched the candidates. I cringed as this sleazy middle-aged man talked about having folders full of women, a stark contrast to the eloquent, fatherly figure who’d been leading the free world for the past several years.

I’d known Obama’s election was a precedent setting moment, even from a young age. And, I think, on some level, a part of my burgeoning intellectual brain simply felt that Obama’s relatively successful first term, combined with the historical precedent it set and the obvious appeal he had over Romney, was enough of a reason to think America should elect him again in 2012. I viewed politics, American, Canadian, and all others, through a black and white lens. I bought into general ideas, rhetoric promoted by the media, rather than hard facts.

Fast forward another four years, and I’ve come to view Obama through yet another lens, brought about by brutal personal experiences, wide reading and critical thinking, and a few years of university.

In general, my feelings towards the outgoing president are pretty similar to what they were in 2012. I admire the man. I think he is a genuinely good human being, and I respect the trials he faced to reach the Oval Office. I have a greater understanding of the historical context in which he operates, the cause and effect events that resulted in many of today’s problems. I believe he acts in a genuine and measured attempt to make life better for his country and for humanity. I think, in particular, over the second half of this term he has displayed great skill and dexterity when dealing with both domestic and international issues, from issues with health-care reform and racial tension, to the rise of populist nationalism the world over.

I don’t agree with everything Obama has done. I think, sometimes, he’s played the middle-ground a bit too much, attempting to appease both sides of the political spectrum. Sometimes, he’s done otherwise, acted with too little tact and played into the hands of the opposition. He’s failed to form a coherent approach to dealing with the Middle-East. He made empty threats towards the Assad regime in Syria. This, combined with many other factors, most notably his escalation of American drone strikes in the region, has allowed for a rise in anti-American and anti-western sentiment in the region, directly influencing the conditions that gave rise to the Islamic State.

But, ultimately, I think judging the presidency of Barack Obama as anything other than a relative success is somewhat short-sighted and simplistic. The world is changing. American dominance and Western influence is waning. People are shifting to their roots: fundamentalism, populism, and various other “isms.” No president, Republican or Democrat, black or white, has the capacity to stop this change. They can only weather it.

I think Obama has weathered the past eight years well. The President of the United States faces a unique set of challenges that none of us can truly understand. To my mind, Obama has always attempted to tackle these challenges with morality and compassion. Sometimes he has not succeeded. He has made mistakes, as humans do, but he has also enjoyed great successes given the challenges he’s come up against.

I think that Barack Obama is a genuinely good human being. When one compares him to the man who came before him, and the man who will succeed him, it is hard to argue that he is not both intellectually and – at least in one case – morally superior. The contrast has shone through in his presidency.

There is a storm ahead. Frankly, I’m scared shitless for what is to come in the next few years. The world is becoming more hostile, more closed off. In some ways, this is humanity reverting to its default settings after an unprecedented level of prosperity and cooperation. I hope that we, as a species, can find a way past the coming storm, though I am not entirely confident.

I hope Obama remains politically engaged over the coming years, perhaps following a path similar to that Jimmy Carter took after his time in the White House ended. Obama is a politically astute, compassionate, and confident.

We’re going to need people like that going forward.

In the Wake of Tragedy

 Sometimes life throws you a curveball.

Sometimes, the world decides to throw a great big shit in your face.

Obscene? Perhaps. Accurate? Definitely. This past week, the entire world had a massive, spray tan drenched, toupee-wearing shit thrown in its face.

Honestly, it’s taken me this long to actually process the reality of Trump’s victory, and even now I find myself questioning reality. A President Trump is a gut punch to the world. It’s an insult to human dignity. It is, simply put, a travesty.

A vote for Trump was not a vote for any kind of coherent policy. It was not a vote for positive change. It was a vote born of frustration, made by the short sighted, the ignorant, and the downright selfish.

Trump’s election is a tragedy for humanity.

Not all of his supporters are racists, sexists, or homophobes. But most racists, sexists, and homophobes are his supporters.

Those that are not themselves bigots condone, by their actions last Tuesday, every kind of bigotry Trump has promoted. By supporting him, many reasonable and moderate (primarily white) Americans have simply accepted the promotion of so many prejudices that western society has worked to limit over the past century.

Previous presidents have made mistakes. Many have been elected on platforms I wholeheartedly disagree with. Yet I cannot think of an instance in recent history where society has so blatantly, not to mention willingly, taken a step backwards.

It is a tragedy of epic proportions.

As in the wake of all tragedies, it will take time for us to adjust. The initial period is about surviving. This is when the heavy drinking happens, as one denies reality. For me, this past week has been about weathering the shock, as denial slowly moves into acceptance.

For many, this period of shock will last longer than a week. For some, unfortunately, it will be shortly forgotten as their lives move on. For many who are unaffected by this tragedy (and many simply too ignorant of how it will affect them), the period of mourning is simply nonexistent.

I no longer feel shock, or denial. I have moved onto the next stage of dealing with tragedy.

I am angry.

I don’t have many words of optimism. I don’t feel very optimistic myself. I’m sure the anger will fade, but I know that the passion that drives it will not subside into dull acceptance.

This tragedy was unnecessary. Donald Trump was not something that had to happen to the world. His election is an injustice.

We may not be able to change this injustice. But we can survive it. We can make it through to the other side, and we can try to make the world a better place for it.

There is my obligatory attempt at some kind of philosophical “the night is always darkest before the day” bullshit.

The only way things are going to change is if we change them.

I am angry, and I have little patience for people telling me to “accept the result.” One can accept something is going to happen without being happy about it. One can accept reality while acknowledging the absurdity of that reality. One can challenge the bigots of the world while knowing they are trying to extinguish a house fire with a water gun.

Those that tell us to simply “accept” the result are those that condone the injustices Trump stands for. These people are the problem.

To everyone who is affected by this both directly and indirectly, to everyone who hurts for the world and for their fellow human beings, to everyone who feels as heartbroken as I do: try not to give up. As hard is it may be, don’t stoop to their level. Don’t let their apathy overcome you. No matter how many times people roll their eyes at you, ignore you, label you, or disdain for your “political talk,” keep on fighting for what you know is right.

Some people have no choice about the battles they fight; it is up to us who have the luxury of choosing to stand up for those who are not so lucky.

It’s the only way we can even come close to stopping the Trumps of the world.

Why this election matters

I was eight when I first learned about racism. A teacher at our school, a Middle-Eastern man whose name I can’t remember, took all of the boys in my class to one area while the girls were taken separately by another teacher. I never found out why we were separated by gender (or if I did I don’t remember) but the memory has stuck with me to this day.

The teacher spoke plainly, with barely concealed disgust in his voice. He told us that something called “racist language and behavior” had been going on at our school, and that if it did not stop then the police would be contacted. The people involved, he said, knew who they were. He refused to answer the questions put forth by those of us who were left confused, and we were quickly sent back to class.

At the time, I had never heard the word “racist.” But if I had, it would have meant nothing to me. I grew up in an area in the southern UK with a lot of racial diversity. There were many “black” and “brown” kids at my school, and even a few “Asians,” but these distinctions meant little to me. Referring to a peer as black was no different than saying my best friend had brown eyes. As far as I was concerned, good people were good people and bad people were bad people, regardless of the colour of their skin. In my youthful naiveté, I was about as close to proverbially colourblind as one could get.

The teacher’s ultimatum shook me deeply. I went home and asked my mum what the teacher had been referring to, fearful that I might be unwittingly engaging in this behaviour. Mum quickly assuaged my fears, but seemed disturbed by the news that our school had a race issue serious enough that the police would potentially be involved.

She explained to me that some people – cruel, ignorant, petty individuals – liked to find excuses for putting down and hurting others. Unfortunately, these people often used differences in appearance, such as skin colour, as just such an excuse for hurting others. Some people, she said, often white people like us, believed themselves better simply because of the colour of their skin.

“Just like the bullies who call people stupid or fat?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mum said, a sad pride in her eyes. “Just like those bullies.”

This is one of the defining moments of my childhood. The memory remains as powerful as the actual experience. My mother provided a rather simplified definition of racism for my young mind, but, as is often the case, simplicity can be poignant.

Racism, at its core, is not a complex phenomenon. Simply put, it is the act by which petty, ignorant, and insecure people finding an excuse – be that excuse the colour of a person’s skin, their country of origin, or their religion of choice – to relegate others as inferior in their own minds. Racism is just one of countless forms this phenomenon takes.

As I realized at the age of eight, racists are bullies.

Flash forward to 2016, and we are seeing the legitimization of these bullies. This presidential election race has allowed the darkest, cruelest, and pettiest corners of humanity to slink out from their hiding places and find the most dangerous thing one can give a bully: legitimacy.

This election is about more than just Donald Trump. It’s certainly about more than Hillary Clinton and whatever one might think of either candidate’s policies. This election is about the same phenomenon that has allowed for the far right’s rise in Europe, caused riots in Ferguson, Baltimore, and countless other cities, or resulted in seismic geopolitical events such as Brexit.

I think it is too early to define this phenomenon yet. We are living through a moment in history, a turning point precipitated by events like 9/11 and the Great Recession, and this election is merely a piece of a picture we won’t be able to see in its entirety for years to come.

However, it is possible to perceive parts of the picture. Attitudes and moods are clear. People desire change. For many in the United States, this change comes in the form of Donald Trump. He represents an alternative to everything people are frustrated with – everything his competitor stands for. His followers want a revolution, the complete overhaul of a system that seems to have left them behind.

Perhaps such a revolution needs to come. Perhaps we should have allowed Bernie Sanders to carry his own movement forward. Many of his supporters have now turned to Trump, seeing their desire for change as more important than the candidate’s obscene views. These people are so desperate for change that they would be willing to bring it regardless of the costs.

A dam is about to burst. I fear for what is to come, regardless of who sits in the White House come January.

Our world is not a fantasy, yet people seem to view it as such. There seems to be a failure to realize that lasting, widespread change, particularly of the type Trump will bring, cannot happen overnight and without bloodshed. Revolutions come at a human cost, and, indeed, many ultimately fail.

If we allow Trump’s revolution to happen, we legitimize the bullies. Though I am not an American, I include myself in that “we” because tomorrow’s results will ripple throughout the world. Donald Trump represents a discontent that is present across the globe.

I urge people to think about what this election means, what each candidate truly stands for and the kind of people they represent. Every action has consequences, both visible and invisible. Perhaps a President Trump will provide a welcome change in some areas, a man willing to throw out the norms of politics and bring his own change to a broken system. But is it worth all the things he will destroy in order to bring change?

Think of the people he represents. While many of his supporters are reasonable, intelligent people, he also represents the dregs of humanity. It is this minority, the percentage of his supporters who are bullies, those that hear his sickening words and nod in agreement, that will cause the ripples. When people hear their darkest ideas echoed by potentially the most powerful man in the world, those ideas are emboldened and reinforced. Legitimized. Those most extreme in their hatred will inevitably entice the moderate bullies, those simply ignorant and outdate in their mindsets, into extremity, who will in turn induce others.

Donald Trump’s election will be the pebble that causes the landslide.

Such rhetoric might seem extreme, but it is hard to deny its accuracy. When has any other leader so brazenly flaunted the democratic system? When has any other leader openly made comments about rape? When before has a candidate so openly endorsed, and been endorsed by, the worst of humanity, the dictators and extremists of the world?

Donald Trump by himself is not the problem. Does he hate all immigrants? Does he believe women to be inferior? The simple answer is that these things do not matter. The issue is that people believe that he thinks these things. The people who believe these things hear their own convictions echoed in his words.

Whether purposely or through ignorance, Donald Trump empowers the bigots and bullies of the world. He gives weapons to people in schools such as my own, the bullies who use skin colour and other visible distinctions as a mark of superiority.

When I was eight, good teachers stood up for those whose rights were being stepped on. What happens when these people, the people willing to stand up rather than stand idle, are outnumbered by the apathetic? What happens when the apathetic become bigots themselves?

I don’t know what racism went on at my school when I was eight, but I know it was stopped. With Donald Trump as president, it will not be stopped the next time. In countless towns and cities across America and across the world, racism, sexism, and various other cruelties will be allowed to run unchecked, because the most powerful man in the world provides a voice for those that prey upon cruelty.

That is why this election is important. Perhaps our system is broken. Perhaps Hillary Clinton represents that broken system.

But at least in this system we’ve always told the bullies they are bullies.

The Hat Incident: the issue that never should have been

By now I’m sure everyone has heard of the notorious hat incident that occurred on the Mount Royal Campus a few days ago. If you haven’t, it basically went like this: a student (Matt) wearing a “Make America Great Again” hat around campus was confronted by another student (Zoe) for promoting “hate speech.” The two got into a conflict, the argument escalated, and someone placed a video of the incident on Facebook to go viral.

From there, it spiralled rapidly out of control, with coverage on a local, national, and international level. The scale of the conflict has escalated exponentially with the video going viral and anger being stirred up on both sides. The relatively innocuous incident has resulted in bad blood and vicious attacks on both sides. Zoe, in particular, has received a lot of backlash (up to the point of violent threats) for an action she was arguably justified in taking.

The issue being pedalled by the media is the debate about free speech this video prompts. In a supposedly safe space like a university campus, can the slogan of a racist political candidate be called “hate speech?” I’m not going to get bogged down in that argument, as I know smarter people than me are already doing that.

What strikes me as the biggest issue is the polarized reactions to the video. People don’t seem to be considering why each person acted as they did, only how they did it. Little of the media coverage considers the individuals in question beyond the small scope of the video posted.

Zoe’s argument rested on the fact that the hat’s slogan supports the campaign of a sexist, sociopathic narcissist who regularly stokes the fires of racial tension while obliviously inciting violence. Her motivation came from the desire to ensure that the campus is a place in which everyone can feel safe and secure. She was standing up for those who might justifiably feel uncomfortable at the sight of a politician like Trump being promoted.

Zoe’s actions were largely selfless, which is something few people seem to be considering. The creation of safe spaces is an incredibly important endeavour, and all individuals should feel free to express themselves in whatever manner they wish. She is now facing continual backlash for attempting to support this ideal.

But don’t Trump supporters get the same privilege, many would argue?

I don’t know Matt personally, but we are in the same program and have shared some classes. Having seen him both with and without the hat, before and after the incident, I can’t say I have ever seen any indication of prejudices along the lines that Trump espouses. My understanding is that Matt supports Mr. Trump’s economic policies rather than his social ones.

This raises the question: when a politician so actively promotes the marginalization of specific religious and ethnic groups, is it possible to promote that politician without promoting those prejudices?

As this incident illustrates, there are no clear answers.

Because of this, it is all the more important that level heads prevail. People need to think rationally about the incident and try to understand the motivations of both sides: one was standing up for marginalized minorities while the other was idly promoting a candidate with specific policies he supports. Neither of them did anything terribly wrong. Zoe’s confrontational method was not the correct way of addressing the issue, yet the concerns themselves were completely valid. Likewise, it is completely fair for Matt to promote a political candidate he supports, but it was unreasonable of him not to expect some kind of backlash.

These “mistakes” do not define either of these individuals.

Once the media picked up on the story, anger spread like wildfire, with Zoe generally portrayed as the villain. To me, this is a big problem.

While the media is happy to highlight Zoe’s insistence that Matt remove his hat, there seems to be little mention of her background as a leading member of the Students’ Association of Mount Royal University (SAMRU). As a member of SAMRU, it is her job to act as a leader among students and protect the interests of everyone on campus. Naturally, it would be fair for her to take the responsibility of standing up for those who have an issue with the hat in question.

Whether or not the slogan counts as hate speech, people feel uncomfortable at the presence of Matt’s hat. Given Trump’s background, this seems reasonable. Did Zoe go about the right way in bringing up these concerns? No. Was she justified in attempting to address them? Absolutely.

Zoe’s actions came from a good place. Her role as student leader makes her the natural voice for expressing concerns. The fact that she has been continually vilified for doing this is pathetic and ignorant. Zoe is not the villain here any more than Matt is for wearing his hat. Remember Zoe’s background and motivation the next time the media labels her a “bully”, accuses her of “attacking” anyone, or mocks her for being “frightened.”

If you find yourself agreeing with these terms, you are part of the problem.

Consider the fact that without online exposure the incident would have received little to no attention. If any blame is to be placed, it should be placed upon the idiot who decided to post a video of the conflict online. In the digital age such hot topic videos are not ignored, and the cameraman was incredibly irresponsible (if not plain stupid) to think it would go unnoticed. Indeed, the fact that he posted the video on a community page as well as his personal one suggests he was specifically going out of his way to defame Zoe.

Even so, sharing the video could easily have been a simple lapse in judgement. My point is that the amount of controversy this video has caused is unnecessary, and the amount of anger it has stirred up is neither fair nor warranted. Nobody involved should be attacked so viciously for their actions. Relatively minor mistakes have been blown out of proportion, and it sickens me to see the sort of threats and attacks Zoe has received in the wake of this video.

I don’t know Zoe, but I wish I did. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. Whatever her actions and whatever opinion people may have about those actions, there is no excuse for the derogatory, threatening, and sexist response the video has received.

I hope Zoe understands that for every asshole on the internet hailing abuse, there are a dozen people who understand that her actions came from the best of places. The world needs more people like her who are willing to stand up for the rights of others.

A Review of Requiem for the American Dream

I recently watched Noam Chomsky’s Requiem for the American Dream. In true Chomsky fashion, the film dismantles the mechanisms of our capitalist society, illustrating clearly exactly how the current economic system serves to keep the rich rich and the poor poor. Some of the ideas in the film are typical Chomsky, but in a world where inequality is a political buzzword, the film could not be any timelier.

For those who aren’t familiar with his work, Noam Chomsky is often regarded as one of the greatest intellectuals of our time. Originally a linguist, he has written over a hundred books in a broad range of fields including history, politics, and philosophy. Chomsky’s views are not for everyone (he is very much a socialist and an anarchist), but even his critics cannot argue against the fact that he is one of the greatest minds of the twentieth century.

In Requiem for the American Dream, Chomsky illustrates the “10 Principles of Concentration of Wealth and Power,” including rules like “Run the Regulators,” “Attack Solidarity,” and “Manufacture Consent.” It is through these methods, Chomsky argues, that America’s so called “one percenters” maintain their own exclusive place among the economic stratosphere. By running the government and manipulating the masses, big business continually marginalizes the working class. Chomsky illustrates here why the American Dream is truly just that: a dream.

The timing of this film is especially fitting, given the current state of American economics and politics. Inequality is at an all-time high, with even the IMF admitting the failure of neoliberalism, breeding a political climate in which candidates like Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump can ride the wave of frustration on both ends of the political spectrum. The increasing polarization of politics is not limited to the United States (as we can see from events like Brexit, or the increasing popularity of nationalist parties); however, as the capitalist standard bearer and the cultural heart of the western world, this phenomenon is, unsurprisingly, most visible in America.

With all this in mind, Chomsky’s diagnosis seems all the more poignant. For those acquainted with Chomsky’s work (a claim that I can only partially make), the film will seem familiar. It’s the classic critique of capitalism laid out in fairly simplistic terms.

It’s this simplicity that makes the film so effective. If one wants an in depth analysis of the problems with capitalism, one reads in-depth works of economic and political theory by Chomsky and others. A seventy minute documentary makes the arguments appealing to a lay audience for whom it is not necessary to understand the intricacies of microeconomics. Indeed, I’d count myself closer to this audience.

The filmmakers do an excellent job of accompanying Chomsky’s analysis with effective and poignant imagery. Chomsky’s words are interspersed with shots of Wall Street juxtaposed against images of the homeless and countless other representations of economic inequality.

One scene in particular stuck with me long after the film ended. When discussing the principle of “Manufacturing Consent,” Chomsky highlights the engineering of society to prioritize material wealth so as to discourage meaningful thought. Accompanying this analysis, we see a shot of perhaps the most appropriate symbol of consumerism, Walmart, overplayed by the words: “A group of teenagers with a free afternoon will go to the shopping mall rather than the library.”

I found this point in the film particularly haunting. By looking around on any given day, one can see the prominence of rampant consumerism. As a society, we, in general, have prioritized frivolous materialism above all else.

As an example, just look at the recent prominence of Pokémon Go. Sure, many of today’s youth are getting outdoors more than ever before. But what is the point of going outside if we never look up from our phones? A plugged in population is far more likely to consent. By focussing on such, ultimately, trivial things (video games, the newest smartphone, or other material possessions), our attention is taken away from meaningful causes. Consumerism, as Chomsky puts it, has become the measure of a good life.

Requiem for the American Dream is filled with such poignant moments, and I hope it will encourage some people to reflect on their lives and their role in society. I don’t hold myself above anyone – I realize I am just as complicit in the system as all those around me. However, I believe it is important for people to think critically and consider their own role in society, something I continually attempt to do.

The film isn’t perfect. It isn’t ground breaking by any means. It relies highly on rhetoric, and recycles some old criticisms of capitalism. But it is this simplicity that makes it accessible for the average viewer. I would highly recommend that everyone go watch it. The film is only seventy minutes long and available on Netflix, so put it on in the background while you’re doing homework or chores. You never know. It might change your perspective a little.

7/10

Standing up to Intolerance

I recently got into an argument on Facebook.

Yes, I know: pointless, right?

Actually, no. I’m going to suggest that arguing on Facebook is not pointless, at least in some circumstances.

The argument in question began with a response I made to a misquotation of Vladimir Putin shared by this particular person. The quote in question suggested that “minorities need the state but the state does not need minorities,” but after a little research I found that Putin never actually said the statement in question (though he has echoed similar sentiments at other times). The page that originally posted the quote was an American far right group.

Ah, the irony.

Usually I refrain from commenting on such things, as I do not think Facebook or any other social media is the medium for an informed debate. With my comment, I did not intend to change this person’s mind. I think this is a mistake people often make. I am not one to shy away from debates and arguments, particularly about certain subjects, and many people take this readiness as a constant desire to change the opinions of those I disagree with. This is not my intention. While I may not agree with certain views, I respect the right to hold them.

My intention is to foster conversation. I wish to understand why people hold their views and, moreover, I wish for them to understand why they hold their views. I understand that I am young, and I find that many dismiss my opinions out of hand as brash or naïve. In some cases, they are even correct. However, I have thought long and hard about most of my beliefs, and there are concrete reasons why I argue certain ones so vehemently. When I argue them, my goal is to challenge people to question their own biases, even if I do not change their stance.

So, back to the argument at hand. I made a comment on the original post pointing out the apparent nonexistence of the exact quote and the irony of a heavily right wing page quoting modern Russia’s throwback to the Soviet Union. The conversation quickly spiralled out of control expanding from the original issue of “minorities” to cover Islam, Sharia Law, immigration, and what exactly constitutes “racism.”

At times, the debate became somewhat heated. It didn’t exactly end well.

The next day, people asked me why I bothered to argue, especially over Facebook. Some people found it amusing and laughed at the two of us. Mutual friends would tell me that’s “just how she is,” and that I was “wasting my time.”

Sorry, but that is bullshit.

I’m not naïve enough to believe I will change the opinion of this person, or anyone else I might argue with, over the internet or otherwise. As I said earlier, I debate to make people think. Not just the person I am arguing with, but also the people who may be watching.

It’s easy, particularly on the internet, to sit back and ignore things that have no direct effect on us. We might not agree with certain opinions (racist or otherwise), but to actively argue against them takes a lot of effort and causes a lot of unnecessary friction. Best just to remain silent.

I dispute that notion.

Silence desensitizes us. When we remain silent, we are accepting their behaviour in our own mind. If we constantly see bigotry and do nothing but shake our heads and sigh, even that response becomes too much effort. Next, we don’t even notice the bigotry, and soon we are complying without even a thought of opposing, often actively engaging in it without realizing.

This is history and psychology. How do you think Hitler was so successful at getting an entire country to ignore the atrocities he committed?

Silence is acceptance. When one hears a bigoted remark and says nothing, the bigots are told that hatred and intolerance are socially acceptable attitudes. Do these people have a right to hold their beliefs? Yes. Freedom of speech and freedom of thought are the cornerstone of all democracy. But having the right to a belief does not make it right. This is why it is crucial that we rally to dispute intolerant opinions: every time we remain silent, those voices become that much louder.

I’ve found that social media perpetuates this phenomenon. When information is easily packaged within a few lines of text with a flashy image next to it, few people go to the effort of fact checking or disputing negative opinions. The internet appeals to quick and easy answers, with little effort or thought.

Which brings me back to my original point: why I stand up against bigotry and intolerance even if I know I am never going to change the mind of the person I’m arguing with. Simply put, I don’t want to be another person who accepts that which I know is wrong. I want people to see me arguing, and see that opinions of ignorance and intolerance are not acceptable. It’s through silence and capitulation that we end up with Presidential candidates like Donald Trump, or geopolitical disasters such as Brexit.

Standing up for my beliefs isn’t easy. Often, I feel like I’m standing alone against a roomful of individuals. As a liberal living in Alberta, I often am.

But the issues I am talking about are not everyday politics, though we might like to think they are. I am not talking about taxes or fiscal policy, or even whether the government has the right to spy on us and monitor our communications.

I’m discussing issues that are, fundamentally, about human rights. I’m discussing discrimination based on race, sexuality, or countless other such excuses. All too often, many of us have a tendency to lump these issues into the humdrum of everyday politics, tying stances to political parties and speaking in abstractions. We forget that the discussion is about real people, many of whom have their very lives at stake.

I have no experience as the victim of discrimination. I do not understand what it is like to be profiled, judged, and hated based on the colour of my skin; I have never been forced to hold my tongue about my religious beliefs for fear of verbal or physical abuse. Many people are not so lucky.

The way I see it, that makes it all the more important that I stand up to intolerance. Yes, my life would be easier if I stood by quietly, shaking my head and doing little more. But the victims of discrimination, the people whose lives are destroyed by bigotry and intolerance, have no choice in the matter. Why should I have the option to remain silent?

We are all human. We all deserve a chance. I just happened to luck out as to which arbitrary borders I was born in and which particular pigments colour my skin. The same goes for just about anyone reading this piece. It is our responsibility to stand with those who don’t have the luxury of choosing their battles.

To those of you who tell me I shouldn’t bother arguing because “that’s just how they are,” I say no. As long as I see people supporting opinions that actively encourage discrimination and inequality, I will not stand idle. I will not sit silently when real people with real lives are at stake. If I can encourage even one person to reflect on their own views and maybe, just maybe, encourage them to stand with me, I will consider myself successful.

As always, thanks for reading!

Black Lives Matter because All Lives Matter

If a house is on fire and the firemen hose down that house, it doesn’t mean they care any less for the rest of the street; it means that the flames engulfing this particular house are a more pressing concern than the dry rot slowly eating the basement of its neighbour.

I can’t believe it needs saying, but Black Lives Matter because all lives matter. This particular group is getting attention right now because they need it. Just because we are focussing on the more pressing issue right now does not detract from other social issues, nor is the Black Lives Matter movement suggesting that we should not respect other ethnicities simply because the current focus is on aiding a group that is continually victimized.

The idea behind the All Lives Matter movement baffles me as much as the concept of “men’s rights” or “straight pride.” It is an undeniable fact that black people in America face discrimination that many other ethnicities (white or otherwise) do not. That isn’t to say that the trials other groups face are any less important. Rather, it is a matter of acuteness. With the recent high profile (but not out of the ordinary) killings of black men by police in America, and the equally horrific backlash against the officers in Dallas, this crisis has come to a head in ways reminiscent of the civil rights movement.

In light of the recent killings, I think there are two issues that need to be discussed. One is the obvious fact that black people are far more likely to be killed by police than white people, due to factors ranging from ignorance and profiling to outright racism. The other is the issue of police use of force.

This second issue is particularly intriguing, given that American police kill more people than any other western nation by a long shot.

Due to the nature of their society and the rigorous devotion many Americans have to the Second Amendment, it is understandable that cops in the U.S. face a different set of challenges from, say, the U.K., where guns are heavily restricted and the police go unarmed. However, even the gun-centric nature of American society doesn’t account for the disproportionate number of killings carried out by police. Indeed, simply calling the difference disproportionate is an understatement.

The Guardian’s database, The Counted, estimates that American police fatally shot the same number of people in the first 24 days of 2015 as British police shot in the past 24 years.

Just let that sink in for a moment.

In many instances, the use of lethal force is certainly justified, whether to protect the public or the officers themselves. And it is understandable that, sometimes, officers make mistakes. They are, after all, human beings. I have the utmost respect for anyone who goes into police work, putting their own bodies on the line to protect their communities. They see the worst of society: the mangled bodies of car crash victims, abused children, victims of sexual assault. I respect anyone who chooses to go into that line of work. I know I couldn’t.

However, that respect does not extend to a blind refusal to criticize.

In the United States, citizens that people trust to protect and defend them kill almost 100 people every month. Police officers in all countries need to be held to a higher standard. By allowing police officers to carry guns, we, as citizens (of America, Canada, or anywhere else), are giving the state the means to murder us. Policing is the only profession in which people are allowed to kill their fellow citizens as part of their job.

Isn’t it fair that we ask them to be damn sure they are justified in doing so?

Police need to be taught to think beyond the gun belt, especially when operating in places where a citizen can legally carry a concealed firearm with no ill intent. It must be ingrained into police officers that lethal force is a last resort, that drawing one’s gun is not the appropriate response for every kind of threat. Alternatives to firearms such as Tasers and pepper spray need to be used more consistently. Police officers must be taught to respond with equal force to that which they are facing, no more and no less. Officers need to constantly attempt to deescalate situations, resorting to the minimum amount of force necessary to protect themselves and the public.

This is not an easy thing. Police officers are trained to expect threats, and their reactions are often instinctual. Unfortunately, difficulty is not an excuse to avoid change. Despite the fact that most cops are generally decent people who do their job to the best of their abilities, continual efforts must be made to ensure that all cops are held to a higher standard. When mistakes are made, they can be, and often are, fatal.

The mistakes of police officers become all the more important when a specific minority group is disproportionately the victim in such incidents. As the state’s wielders of lethal force, police officers need to be trained to understand and avoid their own unconscious biases (and the biases of the society they represent). The fact that armed or unarmed black men are often the victims of excessive force is suggestive of that society’s wider tendency to profile and discriminate, and does not reflect the impartiality that police officers are supposed to exhibit. Police officers are who we look to for an example. They represent the laws we are all bound by. They must be the best of us.

I doubt that the killers of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile were consciously racist, or that they intentionally murdered black men. They perceived threats to themselves and simply reacted as their training and unconscious biases dictated. Herein lies the issue: police in all countries, particularly America, must develop a standard that emphasises the reality of situations over perception. Tragedies like those of the past week must be avoided at all costs.

No system will ever be perfect, but perfection is what we must strive for; mistakes will always be made, but we cannot simply abandon trying to prevent them.

Police officers are human beings. Does that mean that easily preventable, often fatal, mistakes should be ignored? No. Police officers are our protectors and our examples, carrying the power to end our lives should it be necessary. These are heavy responsibilities. Is it so much to ask that only the strongest of us be allowed to bear those responsibilities? 

Brexit and the Problem with Nationalism

“Nationalism is an infantile disease. It is the measles of mankind.” – Albert Einstein

Right now, the world is in a period of transition. The United States is losing its place as the world’s primary superpower, Russia is stirring up trouble again, and the Middle-East continues to be a seemingly unsolvable problem. Humans are on the move more than they ever have been before, many of them as refugees, and, the world over, economies are suffering as free market capitalism collapses under its own weight. Information travels faster than it ever has before, and people demand news that is ready made and easy to digest straight from their smartphones.

Considering all this, the Brexit debate doesn’t seem terribly surprising.

I’ve hated the term Brexit (“British Exit”) from the start, as it seems like a silly, trivial name for such an important issue. For those unaware, it refers to the referendum the UK will be having on June 23^rd to determine whether or not the country will remain in the European Union.

It surprises me that North American media outlets aren’t paying more attention to the referendum, given the possibly disastrous effects Britain’s withdrawal from the EU will inevitably have on the world. While the referendum debate might seem like a far-off issue for Britons and Europeans, the outcome will have real world consequences that will affect all of us. Considering the fact even the anticipation of a Brexit has a significant effect on the Canadian economy, it is well worth it for Canadians to be informed about the issue.

For the Brits reading this, I’m not going to argue Vote Leave is a con, or why Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage don’t give two shits about the working class. Brexiters are notoriously stubborn, and no amount of logic seems to convince them. Better people than me have tried.

What interests me is the origin of Brexit sentiments: why do intelligent people so staunchly (not to mention angrily) support a decision that would ultimately do nothing to benefit them? Each of Vote Leave’s arguments have been thoroughly debunked, from the absurd notion that an economically independent Britain would be more prosperous to the idea that Brussels is somehow to blame for the woes of the working class. It continually astounds me that intelligent people are campaigning to leave the EU.

As far as I can tell, Brexit, and other such nationalist movements, invariably begin with patriotism.

For all of my adult life, I have refused to call myself a patriot. I was born in the UK, but was raised in both Canada and Britain. I am a citizen of both countries, yet I don’t think of myself as either “British” or “Canadian.” My accent flip flops back and forth, and I consider both countries to be an intrinsic aspect of my identity. Perhaps it is because of this background that I refuse to identify myself as particularly belonging to either country.

 “Aren’t you proud to be British?” Canadians often ask me. “Aren’t you a Canadian now?” my British friends say.

Sure, I appreciate my British heritage as much as I appreciate Canada: the UK is a richly vibrant nation with a deep connection to its history, just as Canada is full of wonderful people, landscapes, and cultures.

Do either of these things make my homelands any better than the rest of the world? Do my Britishness or Canadianness make me intrinsically different from, say, a Frenchman or a German?

Hell no.

Human beings are the same wherever you go. In every nation, you’ll find good and bad people, a vast mix of privilege, class, and ideology. These things are a constant of human society, unaffected by the arbitrary borders and illusions of shared identity that form the abstract concept of “nationhood.” The particular manner in which these facets of humanity manifest is based more on circumstance and attitude than any facts of identity. In short, people are only different because they choose to be different based on race, religion, or, in this case, nationality.

While I respect those who are proud of their country, I also fear them. Patriotism is dangerous, fostering divisiveness and widening our divides, inevitably leading to nationalism and ultranationalism. We’re seeing the fallouts of seemingly benign patriotism right now in the rise of Donald Trump and the possibility of a Brexit on Thursday.

The world over, we are seeing people turn to nationalism, the big brother of patriotism, as the answer to what they perceive as their own powerlessness in the world. This is why Donald Trump is the Republican Party’s presidential candidate, and this is why Vote Leave has so much support. For once, people feel that they are being given a voice in issues that affect them.

Looking at Britain, it is easy to understand the desire to opt out of the EU. The economy is suffering and it is easy to blame those who are visibly “other” for the sorrows of the working class. The EU is an overly bureaucratic organization that seems to do little other than stifle Britain’s success as a country. Political parties like UKIP and news outlets like the Daily Mail stoke the fires of discontent by continually spouting off about the EU’s misuse of British money.

Are there problems with the EU? Yes, obviously. But all logic suggests that the UK is far off as a member than not. The arguments are vast and numerous (I’ll attach some further reading on why the EU should remain at the bottom).

Yet, despite the logic of Remain’s argument, people are unconvinced, and so many members of Britain’s working class see Brexit as the answer to their woes. Come Thursday, the referendum is anyone’s game.

Brexiters are thinking with their hearts and not with their heads. When Boris Johnson promises to make Britain great again, it’s understandable that people want to jump on the idea. Given that, for all its history, Britain has been a ruling force in the world, Brits don’t relish the idea of playing a bit part in a larger group.

Nevertheless, the facts are undeniable. This Thursday’s vote will not help people to “get their country back.” Britain will not reclaim the days of the Empire and become the great power it once was. There is no changing the fact that the sun has indeed set on the British Empire.

Intelligent people are being blinded by nationalist propaganda and rhetoric gone wild. A single referendum will not change Britain’s fortunes for the better. Rather, it is likely to do quite the opposite.

If Britain leaves, Europe will crumble as other restless states follow their lead. The continent could very likely slide backwards into the bickering group of schoolchildren it was prior to the Second World War, and international sentiment will turn against the United Kingdom for setting that ball rolling. Internally, the UK itself is also likely to crumble as Scotland and Northern Ireland hold onto a dying EU. Nationalist parties throughout the world will receive a propaganda boost, and the success of Brexit will encourage Donald Trump and his supporters as the US heads towards an election in November. We could even see a serious movement for an independent Texas, and, if that succeeds, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a revival of Western Canada’s campaign for independence.

There is nothing inherently wrong with patriotism. Pride in one’s country is not a bad thing. But people need to avoid making the mistake of thinking that divisive nationalist sentiments will drastically improve their quality of life.

For everyone voting in the Referendum, it might feel like you are taking back control, but you are not.  Because of circumstances, partly of my own doing, I am unable to vote as an expat in the Referendum, which I deeply regret. For everyone who is voting, please don’t make a mistake of historic proportions.

As always, thanks for reading!

Further reading on the referendum:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/20/english-working-class-victims-brexit-vote-false-patriotism?CMP=fb_gu

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/16/mood-ugly-mp-dead-jo-cox

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2016/jun/10/no-single-market-access-for-uk-after-brexit-wolfgang-schauble-says

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/10/president-trump-brexit-which-worse-britain-votes-leave-hammer-blow-peace?CMP=fb_gu

http://www.cbc.ca/news/business/brexit-canada-impact-1.3643295

http://www.bbc.com/news/business-36024492

http://www.economist.com/news/britain/21700697-parochial-and-vacuous-britains-dismal-referendum-campaign-has-been-populists-dream-nigel

http://www.economist.com/news/briefing/21700692-aftermath-vote-leave-european-union-will-depend-unpredictable-responses

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAgKHSNqxa8