Ever since the final days of 2016 — little more than a month after Donald Trump was elected to the highest office in the land — political pundits, influential voices, and social media stars have taken to dubbing individual years, the world at large, and all of humanity “trash.” They haven’t been deprived of solid reasons for drawing this conclusion, either. The past three years have seen kids in cages, sexual violence exposed across every segment of society, and an ecological doomsday warning. (These examples are limited by the rule of three, I could offer many, many more.)
It’s no surprise then that everyone wants to talk about how awful the planet is, how we’re headed towards extinction, how the invisible monsters from Bird Box are going to visit earth and decide to skip right over us because we’re doing a fine job destroying ourselves without them. But while connecting via our shared sense of societal malaise certainly makes sense (and has become an intrinsic part of social media’s right and left wing factions, Twitter in particular), it’s worth asking: Is everything really so awful? Is there any case to be made for optimism?
If you have any faith in statistics, the answer to those questions are “no” and “yes.” Speaking globally, by virtually every metric available, the overall experience of humans living on earth is steadily progressing. Extreme poverty is plummeting; so is infant mortality. Secondary education rates are at their highest ever; illiteracy has hit an all-time low. Fewer people starve; more people live long lives. The number of wars and dictators are trending downward; the number of people living under democracy is headed up.
And yet… few people seem to think life is getting better. Roughly 6% of Americans take that view and we’re in the middle of the pack worldwide. Which begs a few major questions: Why do so many believe that everything trash? If it’s not trash, why do we insist on holding that position? And, most importantly, is there room for optimism in our current dialogue?
The idea that things are better than we’re willing to admit has been posited before, most notably by Harvard Professor Steven Pinker, in his books Enlightenment Now and Better Angels of Our Nature and a very viral TED Talk. Pinker’s basic thesis is an extrapolation and expansion of the data points listed above. His work revolves around the idea that things are, in fact, less trash than they were 30 years ago. As a public figure, he’s optimistic, smiling, and has supreme faith in the universe’s slow arc toward justice. Bob Ross for intellectuals. Like so many other people making the case for our collective optimism, he’s also white, financially secure, and blessed with a superb pension.
In Pinker’s TED talk and books, he unpacks how the very idea that everything is a cesspool is short-sighted and often media-driven. He urges us to look beyond the splashy headlines at the big picture, where — he promises — progress abounds. The media aspect of this argument is undeniable. Negative stories click. Outrage is a better seller than sex. And though Trump has co-opted the term “fake news” and permanently muddled its meaning, the fact that every outlet on earth uses the most sensational possible take on every single story while crafting headlines in order to compete desperately for your click has certainly contributed to our constant state of collective anxiety. (As Parker Molloy notes, Trump boosted online media because he’s the easiest rage click in the business but he’s also advanced its collapse because he’s sparked fast and loose journalistic practices.)