Postmodern Blues
Borders, walls, fences, whatever the term used, whatever the latest expression, boundaries are always misty affairs. Whatever lens we apply to view them, boundaries populate each corner of the globe, an only natural progression considering we humans are social creatures. Separating us from other members of the animal kingdom is our unprecedented depth of collaboration. Cities, roads, computers, iPhones—all possible due to this behavior. Our social circles grew because of these mounting innovations – anthropocene fences encircling the world, products of our thought and action.
As we drew the lines that constitute the world today, it became inevitable that they would shift; cities grew, empires fell, and enlightened reason—not authoritative religion—became humanity’s guiding force. Social boundaries now exist in a volatile state, constantly shifting with what is accepted, the current trend of the day. We accept this fact, even applaud it and call it progress, yet often forget what is lost when these boundaries shift. Today we exist amidst the dissolution of some of the most lasting boundaries, and the engine of postmodernism is responsible for this acidity.
Postmodernism is best described as a deep distrust of the grand narratives and ideologies that propelled the previous three centuries. During the Enlightenment, humanity grew obsessed with reason, universal truth, and dignity for all. Lingering throughout 19th century revolutions and 20th century World Wars, these ideals proved resilient to time, guiding humanity with an unwavering light. Until the climactic struggle between Red and Blue, this light appeared to be everlasting; a torch passed generation to generation, illuminating murky futures with reason. Post-war hierarchies proved this incandescence obsolete: there is nothing reasonable about nuclear holocaust. Cold War tensions proved too much for these lofty ideals, tearing them apart and replacing them with shocked silence and raucous applause for the West. Ideology fell with the Berlin Wall. When the dust settled, uncontested U.S. hegemony took hold and globalism quickly followed, a period of communication and economic growth—and near unanimous worldwide adoption of capitalism. Like the vortex a sinking ship creates, ideology’s fall brought with it the traditional boundaries of old, replacing dusty lines with ones of sleek chrome and glass. Debris caught in this spiral included the relationships and identities that framed our lives. No longer is someone the son of someone else, or a baker, or a shoemaker. Now, we are shoppers: an Apple user, a walking Yeezy advertisement, a business executive.
Ideology fell with the Berlin Wall.
Even politics were caught in this sinkhole of ideology, especially in the United States. Reaction to Soviet practices marked the latter half of the 20th century, a political landscape of strong-willed presidents making the big decisions no one else wanted to. However, the Soviet Union’s dissolution ushered in a new wave. Presidents assumed the role of global leader, riding the tide of post-war U.S. enthusiasm. Slowly, over the course of decades, political boundaries shifted, and we shifted with them. The term “identity politics” is not new, and I would wager most have a sense of what it means, but truly unpacking the phrase reveals some uncomfortable ideas. In creating consumer boundaries, the postmodern machine inadvertently made our very politics that to be “bought” and “sold.” Not with hard cash, but the currency of identity.
Having political beliefs cannot imply blind faith; the past decades of that error have left us inactive and broken.
We form ourselves around platforms, building up walls that block out free flows of information. From Twitter leftists with their unyielding calls to “burn it down,” to Fox News republicans and their quasi-white supremacist rhetoric, we all fall into this trap. Most reactions when reading “traditional values” leap to conservative taglines, a right-wing obsession with the celebration of ashes; however, this cannot be further from the truth. Tradition is not intrinsically at fault, but the lines drawn around it that we queue into are. To give another example, the current spree of socialist sneering at voting throws paint onto invisible walls. To them, voting is more than the logical choice to remove a buffoon; it represents a personal attack on their vague dogma, their identity. So it goes for the remaining political beliefs.
Now, to be clear, I do not write to promote some vague idea of “good people on both sides” that our president gushes over, but that communication must reopen, that the boundaries closing in society must fall. We cannot allow ourselves to maintain the metaphysical Berlin Wall separating our country any longer. Having political beliefs cannot imply blind faith; the past decades of that error have left us inactive and broken. COVID-19, climate change, elections—all represent a changing world, a scary world. Must we continue the debates of the past and stay stuck in our loops, or shall we take a step forward and realize that being a liberal does not mean all socialists are dangerous revolutionaries, and that being a conservative does not mean all city Democrats are ruining America? People must seize control from the postmodern apparatus and repair wounds left open since Germany reunified.
Cover art by Catherine Ju, design director