The Importance of Going Nowhere

Musical accompaniment: Joni Mitchell’s “Refuge of the Roads.”

I was at a holiday event this past weekend, and chatted with someone I hadn’t seen since last year. “I heard you bought a sailboat,” she said. “Where do you go?”

“Wherever the wind takes me.” It has become a pretty reflexive answer. For all the hours I spent on the lake this year, there were only a few where I was seeking a specific destination: leaving from and returning to the boatyard for the change of season, and my trip to St. Joseph, Michigan. Otherwise, I planned my trip based on the wind and sometimes the waves.

For some, sailing with the wind represents a limitation, but for me it is freedom. So often the need to achieve a specific destination is stifling, a form of suppression that mutes our ability to reach beyond arbitrary limits placed on us for the sake of maintaining formation. Knowing where you will finish your journey before it begins provides a sense of comfort but very little opportunity for discovery. Not knowing ensures little beyond your freedom to wander according to your desires.

I would be lying if I told you that this attitude hasn’t guided much of my life. While I’m certainly not a wanderer or vagabond, I’ve never been one to plan much beyond the horizon. I prefer to respond to the world around me, and that has led me down many different paths, both good and not so good. It has kept me from becoming an expert in a narrow field or obtaining a powerful title at a corporation, but allowed me to enjoy many different projects and discover passions that I previously might have overlooked. Indeed, one such path led me to Chicago and introduced me to a love of sailing.

We have a strong tendency to view events on a linear, progressive curve. We look back at an arc of history and see a natural sequence of actions from point A to point X. Things makes sense; serendipity and discovery seem logically embedded in our past. Of course, it doesn’t really work that way, our memory is a marvelous filter that exists to create coherence. Our destinations are not defined by our starting points, they arise from the choices we make along the way. Looking forward, no trajectory exists. Looking backward, we see what we created.

Instead of asking the question 'where will I go?', I'm trying very hard to reframe it as 'how can I… Click To Tweet

Often we fix our goals early and judge success by their attainment. In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with that. But, to return to sailing, sometimes the wind shifts and staying on the same course is the least desirable option. For those who are unfamiliar, you cannot sail directly into the wind, and beating upwind (sailing close to the wind’s direction) can be physically demanding and hard on the ship — the boat is hitting waves head-on and the skipper is struggling to resist weather helm. While it’s often an invigorating tack, beating upwind requires an added amount of diligence and effort. Turning to a broad reach not only keeps your cocktail in the glass it allows you to go below and pee.

Instead of asking the question, “where will I go?” I’m trying very hard to reframe it as “how can I go?” After all, it’s not the destination, but the journey, right? It makes little sense (to me, at least) to work towards a goal that I chose for myself decades ago when I possessed little wisdom and much less discipline. I’m trying to allow exploration and discovery to influence my direction and expose me to many pursuits that might otherwise pass by me. Sailing has not only become one of those passions but also a great analogy for the process itself. I’m excited to see where next season takes me.

 

Three Books On The Great Lakes

Before the season ends I am sailing solo from Chicago to St. Joseph, Michigan. It’s about a ten-hour trip (if all goes well) and I want to devote some of the time to talking about three books I have read that address an important theme: stewardship of the Great Lakes. Western Europeans have actively shaped the region for four centuries, and the current pace and magnitude of that change demands a sober assessment of ongoing strategies.

Dan Egan‘s new book, The Death and Life of the Great Lakes, is an engaging biography of the lakes that looks at the structural, biological, and political forces that have altered and threatened one of the largest and most secluded freshwater ecosystems in the world. Since the 1634 voyage of French explorer Jean Nicolet, Egan notes that “we are still treating the lakes the same way, as liquid highways that promise a shortcut to unimaginable fortune.” Our desire to mine these resources led to the construction of the Erie Canal and the development of the St. Lawrence Seaway, two pathways that opened the heretofore isolated ecosystem to the global community. Not only were commodities brought out of the Great Lakes, but as we now know all too well, many invasive species were brought in. Egan does an excellent job describing the effort being made to control creatures like the sea lamprey, the zebra mussel, and the less known but more destructive quagga mussel. This development has provided opportunity — if somewhat unbalanced — but there have been unplanned costs: while the lakes are a substantial part of the North American economy, the effort to keep the ecosystem from collapsing negates much of the extracted wealth.

Reading Egan’s book took me back to an environmental history classic, William Cronon’s Nature’s Metropolis. I first read this history of Chicago in graduate school, and returning to it did not disappoint me. Cronon, a professor at University of Wisconsin – Madison and MacArthur fellow, asserts that Chicago surpassed other competitors in the region (like my hometown of St. Louis) by extracting from and serving the hinterlands of the Great Plains. In almost mercantile fashion, resources were brought into the metropolis where they were processed and pushed back to the frontier. Value often pre-existed in the old-growth forests, the fertile prairies, and the aquatic life of the lakes. Mining these resources created tremendous wealth for those in the metropole, but only transient income to those in the hinterland. No better example of this is the logging of the white pine forests in Wisconsin and Michigan, which created fortunes for mill owners and commodity traders, but were quickly exhausted and left local economies to collapse.  Cronon’s story of Chicago is a nineteenth-century tale but it resonates in the current age.

Finally, Peter Annin’s The Great Lakes Water Wars was published in between the two others, and it addresses probably the most valuable resource in the Great Lakes basin: fresh water. Annin gives us a geological summary of the basin before diving into climate issues, politics, and engineering. As the title suggests, he asserts that water will become an economic and possibly geopolitical flash point in the [near] future, and there is no greater freshwater cache on the planet than the Great Lakes basin. Although agreements have been signed to regulate water usage in the basin, their legal status is questionable and they remain in place by the good graces of the signatories (and not all the time at that.) The threat stems from a growing population and uneven distribution of freshwater across the globe. Large sections of Africa and Asia have lower water reserves per capita, while the United States obscenely wastes and mismanages its water. Add to that a capitalist desire to privatize the distribution of drinking water and you have the makings of a resource catastrophe (Annin’s chapter on the Aral Sea provides a stark warning.)

From the days of Nicolet, the Great Lakes have been viewed as wealth to be extracted. Click To Tweet

Although these books were written with different perspectives, one theme that weaves through them is the embrace of resource colonialism. Cronon acknowledges this in the title of his book, and his thesis that Chicago acts as a metropole to the surrounding hinterland. Value is added late in the supply chain, which means wealth never accumulates at the point of extraction. This has held true with logging and mining, and now the threat is to water. Lending credence to these fears is a recent comment by Senator Ron Johnson of Wisconsin — a Great Lakes state — who told a constituent that essentials like food, shelter, and health care were privileges, not rights. This list certainly includes water. The fundamental shift of removing water from the commonwealth and placing it in the hands of Nestlé, Coca-Cola, and Pepsi perpetuates the practice of removing wealth from the hinterland. That these products are then sold back to the people they were removed from echoes mercantilism.

The early decades of the 21st century will surely be a crucible for the lakes. Having nearly destroyed the ecosystem in the previous century, it is still not clear if the lessons learned will be enough incentive to protect one of the greatest resources on the globe. Threats from sulfide mining, water mismanagement, agricultural waste, and invasive species could quickly render the ecosystem “dead” once again. Hubris and greed are powerful forces that often overwhelm good sense. The history and analysis presented in each of these books cannot foretell the path we will take, but they do describe a detailed image of the game board, and warn us of probable consequences. The past attitude of treating the Great Lakes as a treasure trove is simply incompatible with maintaining an environment that can support the lives of millions of people in the region. Whether reading one or all three, I believe you will gain much knowledge that transcends the local region and speaks to humanity’s ecological, economic, and political future. Enjoy.

Today’s Lesson: Jacklines

As I continue to gain experience sailing solo and prepare Ikaros for the endeavor, I have decided to install jacklines this winter while she’s in storage. This short post from BoatUS Magazine raises some good issues echoed in previous readings:

Many sailors like to use stainless-steel wire for jacklines, which, although undeniably strong, can roll underfoot, potentially throwing the sailor off balance.

Instead, try using 1-inch-wide nylon webbing. It’s plenty strong enough, won’t roll underfoot, and best of all won’t make a noise or scratch your deck like stainless-steel wire can.

One drawback is durability from UV exposure. Plastimo, one manufacturer of nylon webbing jacklines, recommends replacing them after a cumulated period of two years of outdoor exposure.

While I knew nylon webbing deteriorates in the sunlight, I didn’t know that the recommended replacement period was two years of accumulated UV exposure (in Chicago that is approximately four years.)

Happy sailing!

iOS 11 Upgrade and Custom Ringtones

If you upgraded to iOS 11 this week and lost the ability to use custom ringtones, this post is for you. After two unsatisfactory conversations with Apple technical support and some experimentation, I believe I have an answer (I definitely have a solution.)

I use custom ringtones for all of my calls. The default is a USR modem tone, and I have six song snippets I created in iTunes that identify individual callers (these are defined in the Contact profiles.) After the upgrade my default ringtone still worked, but many — about two-thirds — of my other ringtones failed. Interestingly, they played if you selected them in the Sounds control panel, but when a designated person called my phone the default ringtone played.

Apple technical support was unhelpful. The first tech immediately told me I had to reset the phone to factory settings and restore a backup, an intolerable suggestion for two reasons. First, because I backup my phone to iTunes and only one copy is saved, plugging in my phone to restore it would overwrite the backup that I wanted to restore (Apple, you really need to fix this.) Second, the amount of time required to restore my music made the suggestion unacceptable. The second tech did help me try to reload the ringtones manually, although that did not fix the problem. However, it did give me an idea.

I decided to create new ringtones from the same music files. I went through the process with the first song and when I tried to convert the file to AAC I received an error message stating the file “could not be converted because protected files cannot be converted to other formats.” At last a breakthrough. The ringtones in question had been created from older DRM-encrypted songs. For whatever reason, Apple is no longer accommodating them in the new iOS release. The solution is to create unprotected copies of the songs and re-create the ringtones.

In order to create unprotected copies you will need to add the songs to a playlist and burn them to CD, then import the CD into your iTunes library. Make sure you use the new version of the song when you create the ringtone.

Hopefully Apple will address this in an upcoming bug fix, but the manager I spoke with expressed some doubt. And even if they do it might be weeks before it’s fixed, so this is probably the best path to take. Good luck.

The Nevers

I’m beginning to plan an overnight trip from Chicago to Benton Harbor/St. Joseph, Michigan. It is a trip across Lake Michigan that addresses some of my nevers. The thing about the nevers is that we all have them; they always exist. I’ve never had a child, I’ve never been from Tucson to Tucumcari, and I’ve never been to heaven (but I’ve been to Oklahoma.) In my boat Ikaros I’ve never sailed so far, never sailed away from shore, and never spent the night on it.

Everyone has to face the nevers. For a relative novice such as myself, sailing for ten hours across open water is a big step forward, but one that I must take in order to walk down the street. And my ultimate goal is to not just walk down the street, but leave town.

By leaving the shore I will not be able to rely on coastal navigation techniques, I cannot dismiss weather forecasts, and I will have to prepare for the unlikely event that I will ditch twenty-five miles offshore. I’m cautious each time I leave the harbor — especially when I’m sailing solo — but this trip will require an extra bit of deliberation. It’s a great opportunity to practice skills I will use in difficult situations on the Great Lakes and eventually in blue water.

Toward Benton Harbor

My destination is significant for a couple of reasons. First, it can be reached from Chicago in a single day. With a bit of luck I will arrive under sail before sunset. Second, St. Joseph is the site of Fort Miami, established by Robert de La Salle in order to explore what is now southern Michigan and northern Indiana. It is believed that La Salle built canoes there to continue his journey. While nearly 340 years ago, I shall make a point of toasting him with my evening martini.

The Great Lakes will help me overcome many nevers. I have not sailed overnight. I have not sailed in difficult weather. While I consider myself a cruiser, I want to solo sail on a multi-day trip, perhaps to Mackinac Island. Still called the Mediterranean Sea of North America, the Great Lakes are beautiful, formidable, and challenging. The more nevers I can face on them the better prepared I will be to explore the rest of the world.

Every Sail is a Lesson Learned

I subscribe to Christian Williams on YouTube. Williams is a solo sailor who recently published a book titled, Alone Together: Sailing Solo to Hawaii and Beyond. It was the associated video that first got my attention. Yesterday, before my sail, I sat with my coffee and watched his video about preparing to sail in high winds.

I am new to solo sailing and everything that I read or hear about the topic begins with, “prepare for the unexpected before you leave the dock.” It may seem like an obvious point to make but putting it into practice requires considerable deliberation. It seems (to me at least) that the most important characteristic of the exercise is that it is perpetual — no matter how long you have sailed or what type of experience you have there will always be new scenarios you can imagine. It is that imagination that allows you to visualize successfully overcoming problems when they occur.

Problems turn up not just when you least expect them, but where. Click To Tweet

After sailing last week in high winds I wanted to see Williams’ message. His focus on fouling is great advice for any sailor, especially one who goes solo. Even the most seasoned sailor (which I am not) needs the humility and sobriety to prepare for unexpected conditions. And given the fact that conditions can change so quickly, there is never a day when you can ignore the practice.

The lesson I learned on yesterday’s sail is that problems turn up not just when you least expect them, but where.

I must admit it was just a stupid mistake, the kind that I don’t like to admit. I’m actually writing this post because I feel like I should call myself out. We had a perfect sail on a southeast tack in moderate northeast winds. Chicago faded in the distance and we enjoyed a little picnic lunch. The trip home was equally uneventful.

Just outside of Belmont harbor we turned into the wind and furled the sails. Everything was neat and tidy and I started the engine. After a few seconds it seized and I realized that the bow line had slipped overboard and gotten tangled in the prop. The price of my inattention was a dip in Lake Michigan in order to free the line from my prop.

There were several layers of stupid here. First, the line should have been tied down. It was coiled on the deck but that was inadequate. Second, I should have paid attention before starting the engine. I hadn’t gone forward earlier so I didn’t include that on my mental checklist. Totally my fault. Third, the line was too long. A shorter line might have gone overboard but not been able to reach the prop. The worst part was that I bought a new, shorter line but hadn’t swapped them yet.

In the end all is well. It smarts a bit to admit my mistake, but it was one more lesson learned during another day of sailing. We learn by doing and that means (hopefully) that every time we do we will learn. I can’t think of a better reason for trying again.

Rediscovering the Craft of Maintenance

For those who follow me on social media, you have no doubt discovered that I purchased a sailboat last winter, a 2003 Beneteau 331. I have been sailing for many years but reached a point where renting sailboats, especially cruisers, was unsatisfying. If your goals include sailing any day the wind is good or crossing Lake Michigan for the weekend, then taking the plunge into boat ownership is essential.

Not having unlimited cash on hand, I bought the nicest used boat I could afford. This necessitates a certain amount of minor maintenance. So, when I’m not enjoying a day on the lake, I’m on the boat repairing or upgrading everything that will provide me with a project.

Eventually, working with my hands surrendered to the concept of economic specialization. Click To Tweet

As a kid I never hesitated to learn as I went. After I got my first car I installed a stereo, amplifier, and new speakers, boldly cutting holes in the dashboard and rear deck to receive the new equipment. I wired new fog lights. I upgraded the driver’s seat (this was the late 70s, after all.)

Eventually, working with my hands surrendered to the concept of economic specialization. I began a career in Information Systems and paid other people to do the wiring and the plumbing. By the time Ikaros arrived at its new home in Belmont Harbor, my confidence to perform a lot of the maintenance needed a boost.

Choosing what seemed to be the most straightforward task, I decided to rebuild my winches. Depending on the amount of use, winches need to be rebuilt every year, so it’s something I needed to learn. During the sea trial two of the four were performing poorly, which made me think it had been a long time since they had been cleaned. One morning I sat down with my coffee, searched YouTube, and watched a Lewmar video on cleaning winches. I downloaded the manual and ordered a parts kit. I thought I was ready to go.

The first snag I encountered was finding the right degreaser. Lewmar recommended the use of white spirit, and no matter where I went no one had heard of it. The day was slipping away as I got back to the house and sat down at the Google machine. It was with a bit of chagrin that I discovered white spirit to be the British term for mineral spirits (Lewmar being a British company.) Laura and I had a laugh at my expense over cocktails that evening.

The next day I got the job done. By the time I reached the third winch I was moving like a pro. The work was really nasty — it had clearly been years since the previous maintenance — but things went back together cleanly and quickly. My winches are now good as new.

Gross and gunky

Clean and smooth

While it seems like a simple task, it got me excited to tackle the pump on my marine sanitation device (toilet.) Well, maybe excited is not the right word. I did feel a sense of pride when the new pump was installed and the system was working. Along the way I learned about every aspect of the MSD, from the bowl to the holding tank vent, and every hose, valve, and gasket in between. I only hope I never have to use that knowledge while I’m out on the water.

I am not sure what it is about adulthood that breeds caution in us. Ikaros is certainly important enough to me that I could avoid using it as a learning tool for fear of “breaking something.” On the other hand, if things aren’t working there is little I can do to make them worse. If I fail to fix something I can always call an expert. Having that safety net is important to regaining my confidence in the craft of maintenance. Becoming intimately knowledgable about my boat and competent in making repairs is crucial if I want to realize my sailing goals. It is therefore important that caution be a warning but not an obstacle.

As I sail beyond the Chicago shoreline and explore the Great Lakes, I must both nurture and temper my caution. While there can be no destination I avoid, the lakes can be a formidable environment, rivaling the oceans in many cases. Gaining confidence and knowledge through maintenance is one part of knowing that I can learn to handle situations I confront on the water.

Revisiting Bernays’ Propaganda in the Age of Trumpism and Post-Truth

The past eighteen months can be characterized by wildly variable political expectations, forcing many to search the depths of their consciences for explanations of the domestic and global emesis of id that embraces aspects of racism, misogyny, and even fascism. The rise of Trump in the United States and various nationalist parties across Europe demands that we examine the causes and processes that enabled it. Enhancing this demand is the shifting analysis following the U.S. election. Much of the pundit class is ignoring previous campaign analysis, instead attributing Trump’s success to external influence and opponent mistakes. Surely there is a grain of truth to these statements, but there is no sound reason for abandoning previous observations that Trump taps an anger that evolved out of the 2010 Tea Party movement. Although Tea Party members are firmly entrenched in the Republican Party and revile Trump, their candidates could not shake the “establishment” label hurled by Trump supporters. What, then, is this force that provided Trump with a swift consolidation of power in a political party hostile towards him, and at the same time guaranteed an overwhelming flame-out for recent political darlings? A return to the Edward Bernays 1928 classic, Propaganda, provides much insight into the process.

Bernays defines propaganda as “the mechanism by which ideas are disseminated on a large scale.” The word dates back to the 17th century, when the Vatican’s Office for the Propagation of the Faith (Congregatio de propaganda fide) was established to oversee the Church’s missionary efforts. Until the Great War, the term’s meaning remained benign, but with the aggressive psychological tactics employed on the American and British people to maintain support of the military effort against Germany, it gained the negative connotation it still holds today. Bernays worked in the war effort with Walter Lippman and emerged as one of many practitioners who believed that the future of business and commerce relied upon the scientific use of propaganda to shape consumer attitudes. The book is thus both an attempt to reform the word and also an argument for why his corporate clients should engage his services. While he was wildly successful with the latter goal, he failed with the former.

At the core of Bernays’ work is the distinction between the individual and the group mind. Both are resident within each of us, and they operate independently of one another. The individual mind projects what we recognize as the self; the group mind penetrates myriad networks of interests that define our social being, ranging from book preferences to attitudes about labor unions. While specific individuals may share interests in one network, they may be opposed in other networks. It is not unusual for a person to join a network that is contrary to her individual interests. This is typically referred to as cognitive dissonance.

The sheer complexity of information assaulting the group mind necessitates the acceptance of what Bernays refers to as the invisible government. The members of this government — small and often unknown, even to each other — are responsible for shaping expectations of the group mind. The invisible government is not evil or conspiratorial, nor is it threatened by the knowledge of its existence. It is merely a mechanism of conferring credibility, prioritizing needs and wants, and shortening the process of selecting goods that will improve our lives. It falls to a few select individuals “because of the expense of manipulating the social machinery which controls the opinions and habits of the masses.” Whether we seek to purchase a fifth of vodka or a book on Atlantic history, we first filter the possibilities through early adopters, celebrities, thought champions, and product experts.

The propagandist, also referred to by Bernays as the public relations counsel, employs the invisible government to shape the group mind so that the goods and services offered are what the customer desires. There are various ways of achieving this, which Bernays touts in the book (remember, the book itself is propaganda for his firm.) While the archaic method involves repeatedly asserting a direct message[1], such as “Buy X for good health!”, by the 1920s a more scientific approach was advocated. The propagandist undertakes a study of customer needs and beliefs, and then executes a campaign to address the drives which might underlie the acceptance of a product. For example, instead of telling customers to buy product X to relieve stress, a campaign to set expectations of stress-free living makes the customer want to buy product X. This campaign employs members of the invisible government as well as public thought champions.

Bernays believed that checks on this process exist: customers react negatively to fabrications and dishonest propaganda. The professional public relations counsel demonstrates integrity in order to build credibility and maintain acceptance of the consuming public. Methods and messages lose effectiveness if they fail to satisfy the group mind.

Although Propaganda addresses product consumption, Bernays recognized its value in politics. Indeed, he found it ironic the original champion of the practice lagged so far behind in the precision and skill business had achieved. He devoted a chapter to entreating politicians to adopt the scientific methods of modern public relations in order to effectively engage the body politic. From page 119:

In actual fact, [molding the mind of voters] can be done only by meeting the conditions of the public mind, by creating circumstances which set up trains of thought, by dramatizing personalities, by establishing contact with the group leaders who control the opinions of the public.

Bernays realized that tapping into the networks of influence was infinitely more effective than “pressing the flesh”, making stump speeches, and kissing babies. The successful politician recognizes the desire of a network and offers the product that satisfies the voter’s need.

Which brings us back to Trump, his unfathomable behavior, his unflappability, and his success despite being profoundly unprepared for the task at hand. To understand his achievement we must examine the networks of influence he utilized to ascend to power. Were these networks available to Trump’s rivals? How were Trump’s tactics more effective than up-and-comers like Marco Rubio, or proven gubernatorial candidates like John Kasich?

The first step that Bernays prescribes is to create a need or expectation in the customer (in this case the voter.) This is not something Trump did himself, but he correctly identified it. The American Right has received a consistent narrative of “reverse oppression” across multiple media. For over two decades right-wing media has relentlessly “othered” liberal and non-white members of society. The breakdown of the social order, reverse racism, job loss, and faithlessness have been attributed to “coastal elites” and immigrants. Homosexuals are recruiting children in bathrooms. Liberal humanities professors are teaching young adults to hate their nation. These are not propaganda strategies to invoke direct action, instead they are designed to create a feeling of siege, a notion that what was once a position of wealth and power is now ephemeral. Despite the fact that individuals live in affluent, white suburbs (or other homogenous enclaves), their group mind is wracked with anxiety about losing everything at any moment.

Looking at Fox News (cable news on the Left has tried to copy but without the same success), it is obvious the opinion personalities highlighted during the evening hours are the network’s thought leaders, nurturing and shaping the prized networks of influence. “Real news” is relegated to the daytime hours when the audiences are smaller. Unleashing O’Reilly and Hannity with their fear-mongering and message of imminent social destruction helped form the network of influence that has driven the Republican Party (until recently the GOP considered Fox News a mouthpiece.)

One important factor that is different from politics in the days of Propaganda is the lack of overlap. Bernays spoke of myriad networks all overlapping. Today, ideological isolation is more pronounced than at any time perhaps since the Civil War (I will yield to constructive criticism on that judgment.) These silos of belief make it harder for people to find some common ground, even if it isn’t the topic under discussion. The idea that we might interact with a wide variety of people based on social contacts, church affiliation, work experience, or recreational endeavors seems less credible today than it did in Bernays time[2].

By the time Trump takes the idea of candidacy seriously, the infrastructure is already in place. It is important to give him credit for realizing it’s potential; no one else seemed to. “Gaffes” like calling Mexicans rapists or accusing the Chinese of fabricating climate change actually fueled his popularity, not because individuals accepted the veracity of these claims, but because a group mind had been conditioned to be satisfied by the slaying of these demons. Trump’s GOP rivals who tried to navigate a more responsible path were quickly vanquished, because there was no network of influence they could utilize. Their message didn’t resonate; they were irrelevant.

Those in today’s invisible government have eschewed integrity for power. Click To Tweet

Trump is a current crisis, one that Bernays did envision, albeit indirectly. The consummate professional, Bernays believed that integrity is the hallmark of the public relations counsel. He practice what he preached, dropping large tobacco clients when it became clear that smoking was harmful to consumers (long before the Surgeon General’s report.) And in fairness, he did believe that communists were a threat in Guatemala when he orchestrated the public relations campaign that encouraged lawmakers to support the CIA coup. He cautions politicians in Propaganda to be honest, lest the public punish them (page 113.) It appears that we are now in uncharted waters. The notion of Trumpism as “post-truth”, with the employment of “alternative facts” to present a fictional narrative, demonstrates that those in today’s invisible government have eschewed integrity for power.

Trumpism presents the United States with a seemingly overwhelming set of obstacles, which may destroy the republic or take decades to repair. We must accept the asymmetrical political networks of influence that divide our body politic and spread a false narrative (alternative facts.) Our group mind is reliant on propaganda to filter and coordinate the overwhelming number of social signals that are presented to us each day, yet the only thing separating us from the responsible assimilation of information and misdirection by influential people is the integrity of those shaping the message. Propaganda is our drinking water, and we rely on the invisible government not to poison it. This is not to say that we can fight propaganda by appealing to the individual mind; Hillary Clinton made a strategic error by focusing on policy and how it appeals to the voter. We cannot separate ourselves from the group mind; it is a facet of our personality unaffected by awareness or education. Those opposing Trump can only formulate their own group narrative, one that is more effective than the current one. Ultimately we can only campaign against corrupted networks and champion those that provide honest influence (as opposed to those that align with our ideology.) Finally, working to re-establish the myriad overlapping networks that Bernays described in 1928 may help people reconnect at the civic level, tearing down the ideological silos that separate us.

Bernays, Edward. Propaganda. New York: Ig Publishing, 2005.

[1] For an interesting read and discussion about cumulative advantage, see Roger L. Martin’s post in Harvard Business Review, “How the Attacks on Trump Reinforce His Strategy.”

[2] I realize I have stepped in a large pile of goop here. For the purpose of this essay, we do not need to discuss the race and sex segregation of the 1920s. I only wish to assert that Bernays’ suggestion of ideological interaction is less likely today.