Cultural Claustrophobia

“I have to get out of the country,” she said. “I don’t care where.”

I understood.  Sitting across from me at a small diner, my former student had been complaining about the shallowness of American culture.  Yes, there was materialism; yes, there was political posturing; and yes, there was the dim-witted soap opera which seemed to dominate the lives of so many around us.  But none of this is quite what we were struggling with. No, it wasn’t the disagreement with idea which tormented us, but the refusal—even inability—of some to acknowledge that a contrary idea existed.

Mentally, emotionally, we felt boxed in.

It’s true that every culture and sub-culture defines its own ways of thinking, its own ideologies.  The Buddhist seeks to avoid confrontation just as the Halo 2 player lusts for it. But I believe that in some ways the American culture brazenly seeks to limit itself.  In other words, our problem isn’t that we stubbornly hold onto an idea, but that our goal is to limit our own understanding.

• We’ll obsess over Lindsay Lohan’s latest rehab stay instead of pervasive poverty;
• We’ll seek amusement through the World of Warcraft rather than build genuine relationships;
• We’ll dismiss Islam as inherently violent rather than ask serious questions about our media portrayal of it;
• We’ll seek the best bargains at Wal-Mart and feel pride in our conquest rather than doubt about the reasons for it;
• And we’ll complain that thinking about it takes too long, is too complicated, or is just too hard.

“I’m too busy to think about that right now,” complains a friend of mine when I mentioned how she could recycle some of her plastics.  And herein is a great lesson, I believe.  Our culture is in the practice of keeping us pre-occupied, busy, speeding along on errands, in an accelerated effort to distract us from questioning it.

More, because we don’t have time to think, our media quickens its pace in parallel.  We are surrounded by sound bytes, fast-clipped video, and instant messaging masquerading as knowledge. As a result, solutions to heart disease are dark chocolate, and Iraq can be settled by merely putting troops in or troops out. We become a nation of simplification.

We are a big open place, and American culture is fast spreading through the world.  Just ask Disney, Coca-Cola, Exxon, or David Hasselhoff.  Can we travel into the world without carrying along our blow dryers, iPods, and cruise ships?  And can we talk about the world without holding our collective breath for the commercial break?

“I have to get out of the country,” she said. “I don’t care where.” Mentally, we hold our breath, longing to out-wait the existential absurdity around us, but even the foothills of Himalayas are adorned with Baskin Robbins franchises and Sly Stallone posters (well, they are a little behind).

Is this really American ideology?  Let’s try something different.