Authoritarianism, I am coming to learn first hand, is largely a game of three card monte. It’s a whole lot of “look over here, not over there.” By this I don’t primarily mean efforts to deflect attention away from news cycles that might be unfavorable to the regime (Epstein, the fact that we are all increasingly broke, etc.) towards ones that the regime believes it can control (Charlie Kirk’s killing, and the attendant opportunity to crown a MAGA martyr). There is, of course, quite a bit of that going on. But the debate about which news stories are the real crisis and which are distractions is a losing one. It’s all one mess.
I’m much more concerned with a slightly different version of the huckster’s game, an attempt at forcing amnesia through sleight of hand. It goes a little like this: The regime is unpopular (growing more so by the day). But there are still many things it can do to appear strong, which is to say appear inevitable. It can, for example, threaten other famously weak, cowardly institutions (large corporations) to bend to their will. It can make those corporations do any number of shameful things, such as fire a late night comedian that the regime dislikes. And in doing so, it can accomplish two goals. The first is that it imposes a penalty on a specific political enemy. But secondly, it sends an implicit message to the rest of us. If we can do this to a famous man who wears a suit on television, think of what we can do to you.
To the regime, the second goal is far more important than the first one. They are relying, for their survival, on the hope that the trick works.
Just to be clear, the Federal government intervening to fire a privately employed media personality because he was mean to the President isn’t Potemkin authoritarianism. It is the real deal. There are actual rights that residents of a fully functional democracy should possess that have already been stripped from us here in the U.S. (the right of employees, even of cowardly corporations, to free speech; the rights of individuals on student visas to publicly differ from the administration’s stance on Gaza; the rights of immigrant communities to live free from racial profiling, the rights of citizens of cities with Black Democratic mayors to not live under constant threat of martial law). Each of these are material and monumental and should be fought against vehemently.
But that doesn’t mean that there’s not also a con going down. We should pay careful attention to all the things that either all or some of us are no longer able to do. But we are being told to look in one terrifying direction and, in so doing, to ignore the strength and agency that we still possess. We can remember multiple things at once, can’t we? Not just that all of this is truly awful but that most of us, quite fortunately, are not as chicken-hearted as the Walt Disney Corporation and no regime is powerful enough to strip us of all our ability to care and fight and build.
There are real things that we can’t all do right now (and as much as the attention currently is on a rich white male TV host, there are predictable patterns as to which communities have always had their freedoms most restricted, and it is not the Jimmy Kimmels of the world). But, crucially, it is not all things.
Our lists of “what we can still do” will not all be the same. They will be mediated by identity and financial precarity and health and so many other factors. Some of us can risk arrest in ways that others cannot. Others can weather the loss of a job more easily. We might all be attacked, but the ferocity of those attacks are not borne equally across identities (as a straight cis white man who writes on the Internet, you will not be surprised that I receive a fraction of the death threats and truly horrendous messages received by women, trans people and people of color with similarly sized platforms). But we all have a list that we can make, one that is cautious but honest.
Perhaps your list will include the fact that you, like me, can currently speak your beliefs openly in public. Perhaps you’ll note your continued ability to attend protests, to engage in civil disobedience, to actively organize for political movements and candidates that fill you with hope. Perhaps your list will go on: the ability to participate in an ICE watch, to do homeless outreach, to fundraise for Gaza, to organize a union, to mobilize a boycott against a spineless corporation or two.
Once you start making your list, I suspect the ideas will start flowing more easily. You’ll remember that you are currently allowed to talk to your neighbors, to volunteer at a Girls Rock Camp or an after school program, to host potlucks, to paint murals, to canvas your neighborhood and learn what your neighbors need from each other, to get really mad about a material need in your life that is not being met and invite a bunch of friends to talk about it.
The counterpoint, I suppose, is “what if these rights are not allowed in the future?” but my friends, that’s not a counterpoint at all. It is but one more reason to do those things now.
So too, the other counterpoint, “but there is privilege as to what might go on some people’s lists but be omitted from others.” Absolutely. And there is heartbreak there. Immense heartbreak. But again, if you are in a societal position to take risks that others aren’t, there is no solidarity in forgoing your agency preemptively.
Then there is the most honest counterpoint of all. Of course there are so many things we can still do but we are exhausted and scared. We wish it were easier. We wish we felt braver.
Oh my God, I feel that one. It lives with me every day. And also, it is one more thing to add to the list.
We can still ask each other “are you scared? are you overwhelmed? does it feel like too much?”
“Then how can I help?”
They can’t take those questions away from us. And they know it. For as strong as they pretend to be, they will never be able to close our hearts.
End notes (sorry there are so many!):
Earlier in the week, I teased that there would be an announcement coming today. You probably forgot I said that (there’s been a lot going on) but in case you didn’t… ope! I thought that would be the case but actually it’ll come next week. But, if you want a hint, my pal (of the truly excellent Momspreading newsletter and podcast has you covered.
But I do in fact have a lot of announcements (most are repeats from earlier, but they’re time sensitive). First: you should still become a paid subscriber to this newsletter, both because it literally allows me to make a living (more on that below) and also because right now I’m doing a special merch giveaway for that crew (a tote or shirt with this jaunty anti-fascist heart guy on it or a hat that says, and I quote, “POTLUCKS!”) and all you have to do is get in on it is to opt into a paid subscription and then find the merch raffle link in this post and fill it out before tomorrow (Friday the 19th). Why am I doing that? Oh jeez because now more than ever I don’t take this work for granted (I am independently employed, which means I can say what I feel is most helpful for the world without fear of repercussion, and I am very grateful to the people who have enabled that reality for me).
Another thing you should still do: If you would like to learn how to build a community space with your neighbors, I am teaching more classes about how to do exactly that. For free, because I want to help. And I’ll announce those classes soon, so you should get on the interest list so you hear as soon as I do so.
And another: Next week, myself and other members of this community are participating in the Parents Fast for Gaza (one more thing we can still do). We still have spots on our “team” if you’d like to join us [and if you have questions, the registration website has great answers, for instance about whether you can do it if you’re not a parent (absolutely) as well as accommodations with people who can’t fast for reasons such as health, ED history, etc.].
Ok one last one: You are currently still allowed to support political candidates who inspire you, particularly ones whose vision for the campaign is not just rooted in their own career aspirations, but building an organizing infrastructure that will outlast them. I bring this up because yesterday, here in Wisconsin, Francesca Hong, a legislator, organizer, service worker and mom whom I respect deeply (and who is one of the few public figures in my state who organizes statewide, stitching together places that are often divided against each other), announced her campaign for Governor. Wisconsinites, I think this is going to be a fun one for us, and I hope you consider getting involved. If you’re outside the state— this is a great effort to support (but also I hope that you find and support candidates close to you who make you feel the same way).
I have not done a song of the week in a little bit, so here are a bunch of people with brass instruments covering a famous song about whether you, in fact, have to do what they told you.
[As always, the full song of the week playlist is available on Apple Music and Spotify].
Thank you for this timely piece! Just this morning I was feeling fully overwhelmed and terrified that I wasn’t doing “enough”. I still feel this way but knowing I’m not alone in that fear and feeling the encouragement from you to keep doing what I can helps to ease the weight of it all. I think I have discounted all that I am doing and feel the pressure to do more. I feel bad for taking a day off and resting, like every minute of everyday should be full of something, I don’t even know what. And I can’t quite bring myself to believe or trust the words that rest is resistance in itself but I suppose I can borrow the platitude for a day and actually rest my weary soul so that I may continue on.
"The counterpoint, I suppose, is 'what if these rights are not allowed in the future?' but my friends, that’s not a counterpoint at all. It is but one more reason to do those things now."
Oh, Garrett--I'm tattooing this on the inside of my eyelids. Because it is the heart of the matter.
(Metaphorically, of course.)