The U.S. Government is not the Good Guy

    Imagine thousands of protesters hitting the streets in Canada because the Canadian government refused to sign a trade agreement with Russia and China, and instead opted to keep close ties with the U.S. Imagine Russian lawmakers and diplomats traveling to Canada to express support for the people revolting, and plotting about who would be the next Canadian president. Imagine that the revolution eventually succeeded in toppling the democratically-elected Canadian government, and that for the next eight years, Canada became increasingly estranged from the U.S. and closer to joining a military alliance with Russia and China. 

    What do you think the U.S. government would do? Would it simply allow Canada to get buddy-buddy with Russia as it pleased? Or would it invade Canada to protect its interests?  

    Switch Ukraine for Canada, and reverse the roles of Russia and the U.S., and that's basically what has been happening with the Ukraine/Russia situation since 2014. Imagining it happening in our own back yard, with Russia plotting to install an anti-U.S. Canadian government, offers a different perspective.

    I do not support the Russian invasion of Ukraine by any means, and I hope the Ukrainian people can fend off the attack. Nor would I support a U.S. invasion of Canada if the above hypothetical situation were real. I admire those Russians protesting the war openly in their own country, and I'm sure plenty of us here would do the same if our own government were the aggressor.

    But my concern is the sentiment I'm seeing in the States—advanced by the mainstream media, of course—that Russia is the unequivocal bad guy, engaged in heinous acts that the good ole U S of A would never be a part of. It's false. The reality is that the U.S. has done far worse and with far less legitimate threats to its own national security. There are many recent examples, the most obvious one being the war in Iraq. Many of us remember the U.S. government straight-up lying about having proof of weapons of mass destruction, and then using that as an excuse to topple a government tens of thousands of miles away that posed no real threat to its own security. It was a disaster with far-reaching consequences in the middle east for years to come. In fact, Putin referenced that in his speech as justification for invading Ukraine. “If you do it, we can do it.” 

    The full text of the speech is worth reading. It's clear that the real enemy in Putin's eyes is not the Ukraine, but the U.S., due to its long history of manipulating and/or forcing the rest of the nations in the world to act in a way that serves its own interests. You can't really argue against that point.

    There are other parts of his speech that are flat out wrong or exaggerated, from my understanding. His tone was one of resentment at his country and people having been treated unfairly. This is scary, as it's the same type of nationalist resentment that was widespread in Germany before WWII, as well as what underlies white nationalism in the U.S. and part of what led to the Trump presidency. The fact that he made clear allusions to using nuclear weapons if anyone tried to interfere makes it even more terrifying.

    But we can't afford to put blind trust in the U.S. government as the “good guy” in the situation—it's not. NATO amassing more troops on Russia's border is NOT a solution. I'm not sure sanctions are either. Not only will they escalate tensions while likely not doing anything in the short term to help Ukraine, but I don't believe the U.S. government has the moral authority to take such actions. 

    I've noticed that FOX News and CNN have been offering basically the same political take on the situation—FOX even toning down its critiques of Biden—which raises serious alarms for me. It could indicate that the ruling class is united in patriotic fervor, ready to drum up support for war when the need arises. Will we be equally anti-war the next time the U.S. government bombs or invades a sovereign country?

    The Russian Federation is a big geo-political bully in the world, yes, but the world's biggest bully by far is the United States government. We should not allow our disgust at Russia's attack on Ukraine to translate into our unequivocal support for our own equally complicit government. How can we support the U.S. government being the world's super power, when we know back home that same government is overseeing outrageous economic equality, imprisoning more people than ever before in the history of the world, doing nothing about the thousands murdered by police every year, refusing to take action on climate change despite being its biggest contributor, to name just a few of its crimes? As a people, we need to be focused on reshaping our OWN system, not supporting it in escalating a conflict that could lead to nuclear war. Meanwhile, we have to trust the Russian people to rise up and deal with their own. Let's support the Ukrainian people in defending themselves, but not confuse our own solidarity with them as a people with the U.S. government's political maneuvering in the region. 

Pro sports have their problems—but they meet important needs in our society

Sports are more than just entertainment. 

I know a lot of good people who are completely indifferent to professional sports, or even write them off as useless or destructive (like in the meme above). I can relate to a lot of the reasons. However, I would like to offer some thoughts that I hope may add nuance to that outlook.

In short, I think pro sports serve an important purpose in our society, even though there's plenty to critique about the industry. 

I started thinking about it while following our beloved Bengals' recent Super Bowl run, which unfortunately ended just short. I've always been a big fan, but the past few weeks have been an unprecedented whirlwind of excitement for the whole city, which made me reflect on why, and what benefits people get out of watching sports.

First let me confess that I can be an extraordinarily judgmental person, and there are many cultural norms, habits, and trends in the U.S. that I have lambasted throughout my entire life. Certainly, there are many criticisms to be made about professional sports in our country. Here are a few:

• As a country, we spend A LOT of hours in front of the TV watching sports, much more than we spend participating in them ourselves. Just like movies, shows, and everything else in the entertainment industry, it has a pacifying effect on us, and distracts us from societal problems. At least some of that time we could be spending doing other things that have a more tangible benefit to our communities. These days, I try to limit myself to mostly just watching games in which my own teams are playing.
• The cultural milieu surrounding sports often promotes toxic masculinity. A good player in most sports needs to be fast, strong, fierce, competitive, and confident. That in itself isn't the problem; the problem is that other opposing qualities—vulnerability, softness, humility—are looked down upon and denigrated throughout the mainstream culture of sports-watching. In men's sports, the role of women is limited to cheerleading and serving as a trophy or object of reward for the winners. Much more has been said about this by people more knowledgeable than me.
• Sports culture can also be anti-intellectual. Players are expected to entertain using their physicality. When they step outside of that box to express political or philosophical views that conflict with mainstream culture (like Colin Kaepernick or Muhammad Ali), they take a lot of heat. Fans, too, are expected to limit their observations to the games themselves. Too much curiosity and reflection—outside of the actual strategy of the game—is met with distrust by other fans.
• The amount of money in sports, and the inequality it represents, is pretty disgusting. I won't fall into the trap of blaming players for striking when even the highest paid among them earn a fraction of what the owners do, but nor do I believe players (or anyone) should be multi-millionaires.

These are all valid critiques of the culture around professional sports in our country, and probably throughout the world. Each of them could probably be made about other industries as well though; I think they are more a reflection of our capitalist-consumerist society than they are of sports themselves. 

So what positive role do sports play in our society?

Well, first let's keep in mind that the sedentary, post-industrial, tech-oriented world we live in, for better or for worse, is vastly different than the hunter-gatherer societies in which our species evolved to be what it is. Because of that, there are certain human needs that were met more "naturally" in the societies of our ancestors (and still are in many societies around the world), but that in our culture have to be satisfied in different ways—as strange or unnatural as they seem—because the previous options no longer exist. 

So first of all, I'm a firm believer in Carl Jung's idea that humans have an unconscious, inner-longing to adventure and complete some hero's journey, and watching professional sports gives people a way to satisfy that longing. None of my teams have ever won a championship, so I don't even know what it feels like to actually complete the quest. But what keeps me following those teams is the IDEA that they one day COULD. Watching them allows me to vicariously live out that journey, one day accomplish the mission, and come home. No matter how bad things get (and they've been bad for us Cincinnati sports fans, trust me) there's ALWAYS that hope that things will change. And so just like good mythology, sports mirror the challenges we face in life and provide much-needed hope and motivation for continuing on. 

Could there be better ways to satisfy that hero's journey? Sure, ideally. But we don't live in an ideal world; there is much alienation and misery and feelings of meaninglessness in our current society.  In hunter-gatherer or other non-industrialized societies, I imagine those needs are satisfied through the hunt, or ceremonies, or ritual story-telling. I think such methods are probably healthier, and I fully support efforts to try to reclaim some of them in the modern world. But that isn't easily accessible to the majority of folks in the U.S. So if sports provide a temporary sense of meaning, however artificial, isn't it better that they exist than not?

Similarly, sports also allow people, especially men, to express emotions they aren't allowed to express otherwise. We're usually not supposed to express sadness, but no one would look at us sideways for crying after losing an important game. We're usually expected to repress excitement and passion, but it's perfectly acceptable to scream and shout for joy after winning one. Should men have other ways to get in touch with their emotions? Absolutely; it's a journey I've been on for some time and will continue. But for those who don't have other ways readily available, sports provide an outlet to be emotional.

Secondly, I've heard it said that sports prepare people for the patriotism necessary to convince people to support war efforts. I could believe this. But could it also be that sports provide an alternative way for people to get out their aggression and tendency to make some other group into the "enemy?" People chanting or posting rude things about another team may seem crass, but it's a lot less harmful than racism, homophobia, nationalism, etc. (Unless you could convince me that sports rivalries ENCOURAGE those things—but I don't think that they do.)

Lastly, belonging to a group is something that humans are hard-wired to seek. But nowadays many of us lack a strong sense of community. Again, sports fill that gap by providing a common interest and goal for people to rally around. One of my favorite former students put it this way in a social media post right after the Bengals won the game that would send them to the Super Bowl:

"As the bengals won yesterday and I was hugging a random tight in the bar. I realized that sports really unites people! 

I ain’t know that man from a can of paint but baby we hugged when that clock hit 0:00 like we was meant to be 🤣 WHO DEY"

I couldn't express it any better, and I felt the exact same way hugging people I'd just met at a bar in Cusco every time the Bengals scored a touchdown last Sunday.

So instead of writing off professional sports as a whole, I think it would be more productive to critique what needs to be critiqued while also acknowledging their value. They provide important outlets for human adventure, combativeness, and need for community. Plus, they're just fun! Learn the rules, watch some games, and you'll see for yourself.

"Wait—the Bengals in the Super Bowl? This Year?" —The Curse of the Traveler.

Oh the woes of the Cincinnati sports fan. Years, and years, and more years, then decades, with nothing but drought. A flower would bloom once in a blue moon, only to be clipped at the root as soon as it heard the word "playoffs."

But this year, of all years, beyond all expectations, the Bengals emerge from the jungle to take their rightful throne—of the AFC for now, of the entire NFL by tomorrow night.

Meanwhile, I'm in the real jungle, like actually in the Amazon rainforest. Which typically wouldn't be something to complain about. But now? Lord, why did it have to be this year?

I suppose I can't be too surprised. It's not like it's the only time I've spent an extended period out of the country. I was living in Berlin as an exchange student in 2005 when the Bengals made their first playoff appearance since I started watching football. Internet not being then what it is now, I had no way to watch the game, other than wait for cartoon helmets to move every 60 seconds on ESPN game cast. And I was in an apartment in South Korea when the Reds made their own first post-season appearance in 15 years. Meanwhile, in this present moment, a big group of my best friends from high school are in L.A. and are actually going to the Superbowl tomorrow. Wow.

Yes, as much as I love living abroad, missing out on things back home is just part of the game. I've heard it called the "curse of the traveler."

It's not just sports that I've missed. It's family reunions, holiday and birthday celebrations, funerals—those are just a few of the occasions I wished I could have been home for. But more importantly than the events I've missed out on are the relationships. I'm blessed to have dozens of people that I've kept in touch with even throughout my sojourns in other lands, but I'm sure we're not as close as we would have been had I stuck around Cincinnati my whole life. The memories of shared experiences and good times will always be there, but there's something about the lack of physical proximity that creates distance in a relationship as well. I think the sheer amount of hours you spend sharing space with another body determines how close you'll end up feeling to them. Which is why people are usually closer to their family, or whomever they lived with when they were younger, than anyone.

Maybe the most devastating part of the curse is that when you return, you find that people's perspectives on life haven't shifted in the same ways yours have. As logical as it is, there's always something jarring about coming home and finding that you can't quite relate to your best friends as much. The memories of past times and the feelings of comfort are there; it's the worldview and philosophy that are often different.

I have a lot of friends from childhood who I still keep in touch with, but have unfortunately grown apart from. I started noticing around our mid-twenties—right after several years living overseas—that our priorities and interests simply didn't match up anymore. It's sad, and the older I get, the more it weighs on me.

I've been thinking about this a lot, as we recently spent a whole month in Iquitos, so deep in the jungle that you can only take a boat or fly in; there are no roads connecting it with the rest of Peru. The vast majority of people we saw on a day to day basis will never leave the country. In fact, a friend we made there had never left the state of Loreto in his sixty-three years of life, and I don't think that's uncommon. This has everything to do with privilege and inequality—he even said that it was a money issue that kept him from visiting other places—and I will always advocate and fight for a world where that is no longer the case. 

On the one hand, those who haven't had the privilege to "broaden their scope" through travel, as Malcolm X called it, sometimes hold opinions that come off as provincial or narrow-minded. But on the other hand, I've started to realize that people who spend their whole lives in one place, whether by choice or by circumstance, have something that I don't.

They have community, relationships, bonds forged from spending every single day, week in and week out, year after year, with basically the same people around them. They know how to LIVE together, to resolve conflict, to find ways to love their neighbor, whomever it is, because they can't just move away. I was amazed at how unprotective people in Iquitos were of their property, especially compared to North Americans. Doors to houses were left wide open, even when they butted right up against the sidewalk of a busy street, and neighbors from all around would come and go regularly. On a tour down the Amazon river, our guide would just walk into folks' houses unannounced, and they didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

Someone once told me that people often travel because they have unresolved trauma or pain that they haven't yet faced back home. I know that was true for me in the past, and perhaps it still is to some degree now. I wouldn't trade my experiences abroad for the world, because they have opened me to so many different ways of understanding, interacting with, and simply being in the world. They have made me who I am.

Yet I sometimes wonder what my life would look like if I hadn't had both the privilege and adventurousness that propelled me to leave so often. Certainly, it would be different. I'd be a lot less knowledgeable about a lot of things. But I think I would have something within me that I wish I had more of: the resilience to go with the flow and take life as it comes. Additionally, I would be closer with some of the people I've grown apart from, and what's more important than that?

The curse of the traveler primarily only affects the privileged, which in the world we live in, means mostly white folks. And yet in light of what I've been reflecting on, this turns into another of the many paradoxes of white supremacy: that by taking advantage of the privilege to travel, we risk neglecting something that is even more important, which is our relationships with the people closest to us. Surely, there is a balance somewhere. Everyone should be entitled to do some traveling, to live out the adventure that humans seem to yearn for from deep within in our unconscious—just not so much that we sacrifice our connection to community, and not so much that it prohibits others from doing so. I point this out because it relates back to something I've long been convinced of: that an unequal world creates imbalance and suffering not only in the lives of the oppressed but also, in a much different way, for those who benefit from that oppression. What that means for me personally is something I will probably be trying to figure out throughout my whole life, but in the meantime, hopefully this post provides some food for thought for both the traveling and the sedentary readers out there.

Last but certainly not least,

WHO DEY

I'm confident we'll be Super Bowl champs by this time tomorrow.