While business and commerce are the engines of our economy, and our economy is supposed to keep us at least within reach of resources, the economy is not what defines us as human beings. At least I don’t think it should be. I don’t think so because of the state of our society at this time.
Yet we somehow believe it is the only thing that keeps our society functioning. It is not. And we struggle as human beings within that unhealthy culture of consumption — tempted all too often to hoard resources under the misunderstood concept of freedom.
Our collection of things define us. And if we don’t have an adequate collection of things in comparison with others around us, our value, our worth, our identity, is diminished.
There is a saying that we should look upstream to find out why people are drowning in the river. The reason, as inconvenient, as terrifying and uncomfortable as it appears, is how we measure our worth, identity and place in our society. And currently we do this through our economy, through our consumption, possession of things and possession or rejection of each other based on things. This is what is up river. This is really what needs to change.
People have blamed the pandemic and the consequent closure of access to resources for an increase in mental health and substance use issues. Makes sense really. But that wasn’t it. The pandemic just magnified what was already happening in our world of profit over people. It magnified how the very few fit in this particular culture while so many of us don’t.
Our economy has an achilles heel. It doesn’t work when connections are severed. Likewise, as people, we don’t function well when our connections are severed. That is true for the affluent as much as it is for the poorest. And we fall in the river of despair as we lose our ability to belong, to be vital, to have purpose and meaning — as people, not as assets!
But here we are, rife with all sorts of mental health, and social issues as the vast majority of us cope with substances. Some of us develop a dependency on substances as we desperately try to cling to some way of getting through the day.
We know that substance use is described by so many of us as a way to chill, relax, forget, not feel, get numb. It regulates our thoughts, feelings and eventually our behaviours. It becomes the way to manage through a day. All the way from a glass of wine or three to emotional and physical pain relief with opiates and everything in between. Some of us slowly get swept down that river.
Some say using substances breaks our spirit. I propose that our spirits are already breaking. And we try to re experience some form of spiritual experience by altering our consciousness somehow. We desperately try to fit in to a culture that imposes such judgement and creates such barriers that for some, navigating through our culture is almost impossible. Our spirit becomes meaningless, at least on the surface.
Because what is upriver has little to do with our true human needs. In our culture, over focus on economy and consumption has replaced our humanity. It has replaced our identity. It has diminished our worth, confidence, trust, and replaced it with angst, brutal competition, a blood lust to be better than others through misleading ideologies.
And we fight. Some win that fight and some lose, if the prize is only about things. For some unimaginable reason, this is what we value as a society. It is the proverbial yet mythical “American (or western) Dream” where some win and some lose, the battle in the arena for the most resources — the most toys — the most physical comfort supposedly — all of it lacking a true personal and communal sense of belonging and value — all of it at the cost of our true humanity.
So we are scapegoating those people who appear to have lost the battles. Those who have very little. Those people who struggle every day to seek or maintain shelter, food, clothing, safety, a sense of belonging in some sort of community. I am not talking just of those who struggle with homelessness, mental health or substance use issues here. I am talking about everyone who engages in this senseless battle of who has more, who is worth more. And as we scapegoat those people we see as not worth more, the gap between those who have more and those who do not, widens. It has become almost impossible to navigate from one side to the other. And what is in between is a dystopian landscape of desperation. We tread water until we are exhausted and then, begin to drown.
I had a conversation once with someone working in the oil industry overseas. His celebration of success was a $4,000 bottle of wine given as a bonus. He became angry and severed ties with me when I highlighted how many months rent that would pay for, for someone without a home. I have to question what happiness was there in that reward? Who and what was the more valuable in this scenario? Yet this is what we are “indoctrinated” into believing is the symbol of success. If we don’t reach this level, how could we possibly be of any value?
Guess why mental health and substance use health issues have increased. No it’s not because of addiction. Addiction is only a symptom of how we are medicating our experience of what is up river. Depression, anxiety, personality disorders, traumatic disorders all have their roots in a world that values hoarding profit — hoarding things over humanity. And then discarding those who don’t appear to fit in.
I think the First Nations people of our land had it right for the most part. Robin Wall Kimmerer describes it quite well in her book “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants” (2020):
“Gratitude and reciprocity are the currency of a gift economy, and they have the remarkable property of multiplying with every exchange, their energy concentrating as they pass from hand to hand, a truly renewable resource.” “To name the world as gift is to feel one’s membership in the web of reciprocity. It makes you happy—and it makes you accountable”.
“In a market economy, where the underlying principles are scarcity and maximizing return on investment, the meat is private property, accumulated for the well-being of the hunter or exchanged for currency. The greatest status and success comes from possession. Food security is assured by private accumulation.
In contrast, gift economies arise from the abundance of gifts from the Earth, which are owned by no one and therefore shared. Sharing engenders relationships of goodwill and bonds that ensure you will be invited to the feast when your neighbour is fortunate. Security is ensured by nurturing the bonds of reciprocity. You can store meat in your own pantry or in the belly of your brother. Both have the result of keeping hunger at bay but with very different consequences for the people and for the land which provided that sustenance”.
Here Robin describes an “up river” that is far more communal, sustainable and personally fulfilling.
In his book “The Globalization of Addiction: A Study in the Poverty of the Spirit” (2010), the author and researcher behind the “Rat Park” experiments describes the dislocation theory of addiction. He asserts that it was disconnection through displacement, for example conquest and colonialism, that was behind an escalation in the use of otherwise socially acceptable substances in various cultures. His narrative sheds light on the role of disconnection in mental health and substance use health issues.
Gabor Mate, in his book “The Myth of Normal: Illness, Health and Healing in a Toxic Culture” (2022), uses an analogy of a culture in a laboratory setting:
“…a culture is a biochemical broth custom made to promote the development of this or that organism…a well maintained culture should allow for their healthy growth and proliferation. If the same organisms begin showing pathologies at unprecedented rates, or fail to thrive, it’s either because the culture has become contaminated or because it was the wrong mixture in the first place.”
“There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river. We need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in”
(attributed to Desmond Tutu.)
We refuse to acknowledge that what is up river is the root of our culture’s social issues. Our beliefs, mores, rituals, and norms have all adapted to what could be considered a toxic culture. We cannot address this by simply medically or psychologically treating people. We must gut what we have created up stream and re imagine what our culture would be if it were to nurture a thriving human environment and experience. We already have some ideas and examples in many other cultures including our own. We do have some answers. We do have some strengths. We just need the wisdom and the courage to move forward and away from what we know not to work for everyone. We need to acknowledge the toxicity of our current culture and accept that we have the ability and capacity to change.
We are intelligent, ambitious, and creative. We have knowledge, wisdom and experience. We must replace bias, judgment, piety, arrogance, and greed with the strengths that we do have. We can do it. It might be scary at first. It will be uncomfortable and awkward. But we can adapt. That is one of our strongest characteristics.
Mental health and substance use health issues, along with poverty, inequality and oppression will be far more manageable when we use these strengths. Our strengths must be forefront in our thinking, even when we are face to face and pushed around by the negatives. We can change the toxic culture into a culture of nurturance. This is how we can help people – like us, to avoid falling into the river.
Resources:
Mate, G., M.D. with Daniel Mate (2022) “The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness, and Healing in a Toxic Culture” Penguin Random House Canada Limited.
Alexander, B.K. (2008). “The Globalization of Addiction; A Study in the Poverty of the Spirit” Oxford University Press.
Wall-Kimmerer Robin; “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom,Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants” 2013 Milkweed Editions Canada