Reflections on 2015

New Year’s Day, 2016

What is the purpose of your life?

When I came home at early this morning, I uploaded to Facebook a photo of the poster that was distributed to patrons as we left the New Year’s Eve concert, and added this comment: “At 69. Patti Smith is fighting for love more than ever. Her fire is even stronger than it was 50 years ago. Welcoming in the New Year with her at the Fillmore was inspiring. I will cherish this poster.” Then, with “Compassion” as the Subject line, I posted to the Yellow Cab shareholders’ forum and the TaxiTalk.info Announce list, “May the New Year bring in a world that is ever more rooted in compassion.”

Increasingly, it seems to me that lack of compassion is at the heart of our social problems. The results include harsh judgments of others, assumptions of superiority, chronic self-centeredness, greed, intellectualized scheming, and manipulation -- all of which serve to divide and isolate people.

Patti’s repeated exhortations to speak one’s truth fearlessly resonated deeply. And her call for unity echoed my “Build Power by Improving Service,” which I recently posted to TaxiTalk.info, in which I argue:

With a tiny percentage of its profits, the San Francisco taxi industry could finance a “taxi-community coalition” that would speak with one voice on points of agreement. That unity could enable the industry to overcome its debilitating fragmentation and isolation. By uniting, the industry could beat Uber by providing better service and countering its money with people power.

I don’t expect the San Francisco taxi industry to unite any time soon. It’s like dealing with the Hatfields and McCoys. But Patti’s concert encourages me to try to contribute to that goal as best I can.

The opening act New Year's Eve performed several classics from the 1967 “Summer of Love” San Francisco music scene  -- after warning us that on the occasion of that summer’s 50th anniversary such songs will be “shoved down your throat.” I loved their selections.

What’s so wrong about “peace, love, and happiness” after all? Not a half-bad starting place, it seems to me. Patti, however, adds a valuable hard edge. When she came on stage for her set, she ironically said, “Now that we’ve got rid of those hippies….” From my location close to the stage, I yelled, “Welcome New York.”

As covered by “Best of Enemies” and ”The Day the ‘60s Died,” two haunting documentaries I recently streamed on Netflix, that 1967 outburst soon devolved into the tragedies of 1968, followed by the mass madness of 1971 (which was experienced by me on a very personal level), and onto the polarization we are experiencing today.

Those films are ominously still relevant, for they reveal problems that persistently undermine people power. When Bernie Sanders, for example, was asked in a recent debate if he had any hope of gaining any support from the “billionaire class,” he dismissed the notion. I wish he had spoken instead of FDR’s focus on “enlightened self-interest,” Henry Ford’s comment about needing his workers to earn enough to buy his cars, Van Jones’ formulation “The 99% for the 100%,” or Robert Reich’s appeals to the wealthy elite to adopt a longer-term perspective.

Alas, with our arrogant self-righteousness, most of us who were immersed in the ‘60s “counter culture” contributed to a debilitating polarization. In 1971, we were thrilled that we finally had a majority of the American people against the Vietnam War. But they were against the anti-war movement even more -- which led to the election of Richard Nixon in a landslide, and later, Ronald Reagan. We run a similar risk today.

At the same time, however, as Pat Buchanan acknowledges toward the end of “The Day the ‘60s Died,” we “won the cultural war” -- the campaigns against racism, sexism, homophobia, militarism, destruction of the environment, and other issues now have much more support than they did prior to the 1960s.

But translating that cultural progress into political power is another matter. “The system” breeds division as ruling elites “push buttons” that “divide and conquer.” They manipulate “pawns in the game” by stoking fear and directing anger at scapegoats.

Reports on the violence of anti-war and anti-racist demonstrators in the late ‘60s rarely mention that those demonstrations were largely nonviolent until police forces started to engage in police riots and, in black communities, persisted in routine violence, all of which provoked violent responses.

With his Stanford Prison Experiment, Philip Zimbardo demonstrated that absent strong policies to discourage violence that are vigorously enforced by supervisors, guards who are given power over inmates are prone to abuse. The same applies to the police and the military. Strong restraints are necessary to protect the innocent.

Time and time again, domestically as well as internationally, we see people in power provoke activists into over-reacting, which undermines the potential for those activists to build support.

Am I being paranoid to suspect that those provocations are often intentional, consciously or semi-consciously -- that they are done to reinforce the existing concentration of wealth and power? Undercover agent provocateurs are motivated by more than wanting to establish their credentials. They also want to “radicalize” the protestors in order to weaken them. The same applies to efforts to overthrow unfriendly, democratically elected foreign governments. Civil wars in those countries often lead to the incumbents becoming more repressive, which undermines their support.

Unfortunately, the anger that helps to motivate people to push for compassionate change can easily escalate into crystallized hate. When protesters lack sufficient self-discipline, they bite the bait, decline to negotiate, and seek to impose their will.

Babies are naturally curious, kind, and awestruck -- precursors of “the pursuit of truth, justice, and beauty” that Emerson called the “Holy Trinity,” the essence of what it means to be human, as I see it. Unfortunately, as we mature, those instincts are socialized out of us as we become increasingly fearful, insecure, and self-centered.

Whether it’s me, my family, my business, my organization, or my nation, ever more the driving force in the modern Western world is “what’s in it for me,” a phrase that has garnered its own Internet acronym: WIIFM. The result is more fragmentation, isolation, and counter-productive blowback.

One of my passengers said the socialization begins when babies begin to interact with other children and discover danger: they might be hit, even if accidentally. Many children also learn that adults hit them, intentionally. And adults punish, admonish, and withhold approval.

Students learn that only a few “win.” Adults learn that only a few will get rich. Almost everyone, even those who deny it to themselves, learns that they are “inferior” in some way that really matters. Insecurity and a lack of self-worth are rampant. The need to prove oneself to oneself and to others is widespread and chronic. Rankism prevails. We learn that we have to either dominate or submit, and take great care that others do not hurt or embarrass us. We become guarded, closed, uptight. It becomes a rare treat to relate to others as equals, open, spontaneous, curious, kind, and awestruck, really listening and learning, engaging in authentic, I-Thou encounters of the sort discussed by Martin Buber.

James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time addresses those issues eloquently. Re-reading that book last year blew me away once again, as it did fifty years ago. His focus is on the spiritual damage inflicted by racism. But as he acknowledges, racism is merely one of the more obvious manifestations of the spiritual crime that is perpetrated throughout modern societies.

In his later memoir, Nobody Knows My Name, Baldwin reports that when he returned to France when that country was being forced to leave Vietnam, the police were much more brutal toward Arab immigrants. He concluded that losing Vietnam challenged the French identity, and that insecurity prompted the police to take it out on the easiest target.

Baldwin’s report echoes in this country today, as Americans are having trouble identifying themselves as members of a white, Christian country that is “exceptional” and worthy of “leading” the world. As in France, American police are incredibly violent, in this case toward blacks, and get away with it.

Baldwin also tells the story of an encounter with the father of a childhood friend during the Vietnam War. Flabbergasted, Baldwin asked him, “Why do you support the war? Is it for the sake of your job?” The father replied, “Yes.”

So the personal and the political are interconnected.

In the U.S., more than half of those aged 18 to 29 believe that some day they will get rich, which most Americans define as having enough money that you don't need to work, a net worth of $1 million or more, or a six-figure annual income. So long as that kind of materialism is so powerful, we’ll continue to be in serious trouble.

If Western governments, trying to benefit Western corporate interests, actively continue to encourage “regime change” in other countries, they will foment resentment, especially if those efforts involve spreading Western materialism.

Hillary Clinton charges that radical jihadists “reject modernity,” but she has not articulated an understanding of what’s wrong with modernity: the glorification of WIIFM. Rather, she just hurled the phrase as a judgment.

She would do better to recall the need to “win hearts and minds” and support Islamic forces that rely on the ancient Quran and its affirmation, “There is no compulsion in religion.” That precept preceded the medieval Shariah law, as Mustafa Akyol discussed in “A Medieval Antidote to ISIS.”

Instead Clinton relies heavily on the use of military force, which creates more terrorists than it kills. Fundamentally, the battle is a cultural conflict within Islam. By being so militaristic, the West is making it more difficult for tolerant Islamic forces to prevail.

And the West often favors separatists who want to split their nation. Smaller, weaker nations are less able to establish trade barriers that limit the free flow of Wall Street money and foreign investment. Is that a major reason the West tends to support separatists, whether in Africa, Yugoslavia, Ukraine, Syria, or wherever? I suspect so.

Virtually every American politician proclaims, “America must lead,” while relying on the old definition of leadership: a leader is one who is able to mobilize followers. America would do better to rely more on the power of example and transform this nation into a tolerant, compassionate community. Instead. we’re becoming ever more angry and polarized.

Nevertheless, I still have hope. Seeds are being planted. Profound, comprehensive social transformation is possible. The sudden, successful emergence in Spain of a highly participatory, progressive political party that relies heavily on “direct democracy” is encouraging, as is the commitment to openness and transparency among so many young Americans.

I still believe, however, that a strong commitment to self-improvement and mutual support will enhance our prospects. “Intimate direct action” could contribute to the cause. Small, home-based “support groups” during which like-minded activists would openly, confidentially report on their self-improvement efforts could help hold  accountable those who make that commitment. The concept seems clear and convincing to me, and the Movement Strategy Center is doing great work to promote “transformative practice” of the sort I have in mind,

So I recently reviewed Bob Anschuetz’s valuable feedback and rewrote my manifesto: “Reform the System with Love and Power: A Call for Action.”

One collaborator I won’t have from now on, however, is Leonard Roy Frank. As I said in my eulogy:

Leonard was my Rock of Gibraltar. We were intimately interwoven. Sherri Hirsch once said, “Leonard is the Old Testament. Wade is the New Testament.” When I wrote about that and he read it, he approved. He was a very good listener and very astute about the character of others. He believed in me more than I believed in myself and encouraged me to pursue my dreams. When I expressed doubts about my abilities, he praised them. When I wavered, he urged me to press on.

His death, the earlier deaths of Richard Koogle, Steve Sears, and Gil Lopez, and my sister, Mary, moving to Tucson leave me without any very close friends in San Francisco. Though I am open to authentic, mutual encounters, they rarely happen. So I continue to learn how to be alone, drawing on support when I need it.

Fortunately, I enjoy cab driving, have some good conversations in my taxi, and, despite Uber, still make enough to make ends meet, take vacations, and indulge in an occasional massage. So long as I stay healthy at least until I sell my medallion, which will probably take several more years, I should have enough money to live until I’m 95.

And my psychotherapy with Rebecca Crabb helped a great deal. As I discussed in A Dialog on Greatness, I’ve struggled with mixed feelings about my mother inculcating in me “you will be a great man.” That message, though well intended, was a double-edged sword, because the implication was: “You are not yet a great person.” And she also inculcated in me profound guilt, often telling me, “How can you do that to me?”

My work with Rebecca led me to the conclusion, “I Am Good Enough to Be Better.”  Somehow that phrase rang a bell for me. Ever since, I’ve felt less need to prove myself to anyone, including myself. I’ll just speak my truth and let the chips fall where they may.

I know the purpose of my life is to pursue truth, justice, and beauty. I still feel morally obligated to do what I can to “save the world” by nurturing compassionate community dedicated to the common good of the entire Earth Community, including pushing for political changes in national public policy. And I hope that my example will encourage others to do the same. But how “great” anyone is, relative to others, I cannot judge, for I can’t read minds. I can only be true to myself. Otherwise, as Bob says, “What good am I?”

So, compared to the end of 2014, I feel stronger, healthier, happier, and wiser. I wish I could say the same about the world.