The Antidote to Despair

Only friction makes sparks.

Photo by Sergey Pesterev on Unsplash

A book I think about often in moments of despair is Ayanna Elizabeth Johnson and Katharine K. Wilkinson’s All We Can Save, which is premised in part on the idea that if we want to fight climate change, we have to celebrate what’s spectacular about the world, and see opportunity rather than just adversity. The title is pulled from Adrienne Rich’s poem Natural Resources:

My heart is moved by all I cannot save:
so much has been destroyed

I have to cast my lot with those
who age after age, perversely,

with no extraordinary power,
reconstitute the world.

In an interview with the Washington Post, Johnson talks about the symbiotic relationship between despair and inspiration, and says, “I look at each new, jarring scientific report, the thing that keeps me going is that every graph, every projection has a range of possible outcomes. And when I see that range, I see millions of lives. I see families. I see ecosystems. I see all the things that hang in the balance, depending on how much we as a human species, as a society, can get it together. It’s both what breaks my heart and what keeps me going.”

If things are truly hopeless, then we no longer hope. If there is nothing worth saving, there is nothing to work for. Here is why we are lucky even in this awful moment: There is so much worth saving. There is so much worth fighting for. Those things become visible when threatened. When things feel easy, it is easy to become complacent.

Only friction makes sparks.

I’m not here to tell you “chin up, stay positive!” There is nothing about the next four years that will be better than the alternate reality in which Kamala Harris won the US presidential election. But these moments — moments when things are scary and awful — can also provide clarity. Where do we have some power? Where can we make some difference? What is worth saving, and how can we contribute to that?