Has Optimism Hurt Obama?

By Dax-Devlon Ross

“When the going gets tough,” neuroscientist Tali Sharot writes in her 2011 book The Optimism Bias, “we desperately start searching for the silver lining.” Sharot believes that optimism bias — “the inclination to overestimate the likelihood of encountering positive events in the future and to underestimate the likelihood of experiencing negative events” — leads us to miscalculate our decisions. These miscalculations in turn cause us to regret our decisions. After reading Sharot’s book I thought about President Obama. Had he been hurt by the optimism we felt when he took office three years ago? 

In the fall of 2008 Americans were enduring an unprecedented bout of public despair. The economy was tanking, two wars were spiraling, the environment was collapsing and the American people (not to mention people all over the globe) were in desperate need of a glimmer of light. We found it in Barack Obama. He inspired us. He comforted us. He even gave us reason to feel proud to be Americans. In a CBS/NY Times poll published less than a month before the ‘08 election, a record low 7% of Americans said the country was “going in the right direction.” As President-elect Obama prepared to take office three months later, another CBS/NYT poll revealed that 80% of Americans were optimistic about the next four years with him in office, 68% felt he would be a better-than-average president, 71% believed the economy would improve during his first year in office, and 61% said the country would be better in shape in five  years. A week after Obama finished his first 100 days in office the CBS/NYT poll returned to Americans with the same question it asked in late 2008. This time around 41 percent said the country was headed in the right direction—a 34% gain in six months. Substantively speaking little had changed. We were still in a recession. The wars were still going on. And yet the public mood was irrefutably different. 

The optimism was unprecedented and, as we would come to discover, short-lived. By November 2009, the president’s approval ratings had slid from 66% to 52%. His 38% approval rating this past fall was 12 points below the average for presidents at the same juncture across time. And as Obama’s approval ratings receded, so too did the wave of optimism that had swept him into office. When a CNN/ORC poll asked Americans how well they thought things would be going in the country at the end of 2009, 2010 and 2011, respondents replied with increased negativity each year. The 36% who said “badly” in 2009 crept up to 42% in 2010 and 55% this past fall. Similarly, an annual Gallup Poll of Americans’ optimism about the future for youth plummeted from 59% two months after Mr. Obama took office to a record low 44% two years later.

What’s curious is that even as Obama’s numbers fell, Americans’ optimism about their personal fortunes remained strong and steady. An AP-GFK poll released in December 2011 reported that 78% of Americans were optimistic for the upcoming year, a  figure wholly consistent with what the CNN/ORC poll found when it asked respondents how well things are going today for them personally. In every single poll from 2009 through 2011 an impressive 78% reported “Fairly well” or “Very well”.

Does this mean we chose poorly? That Obama has been a disappointment? Or does it beg a different question: Did we underestimate the damage and overestimate his ability to fix it overnight?

Sharot would argue that, in general, we harbor positive illusions about ourselves and our lives. The economy may be in free fall, but the future has better plans for us. In fact, among those surveyed by Gallup about the dismal future of youth, high-income earners — those with presumably the most wealth and access — were the most pessimistic. According to Sharot, this is precisely how optimism bias operates. Public pessimism feeds our sense of exceptionalism relative to others which in turn feeds our optimism about our own lives. And so and so forth.

I would argue that the collision of social, historical, and economic forces that brought that particular moment into being are rare. The optimism that carried Obama into office wasn’t just biased toward a rosy future; it was a statistical outlier. And once that crisis was averted, order generally restored, and our markets substantially stabilized, public pessimism didn’t just recover; it recoiled with a vengeance. And its main target was the man whose very image was at one point synonymous with hope.

It’s been said that Americans are suffering from Obama fatigue. I don’t buy it. What we’re suffering from is optimism withdrawal. Now that the president’s mere presence doesn’t provide the same “high” anymore, we sulk, we groan, we nitpick, we even picket. I remember thinking this while reading Drew Westin’s well-circulated New York Times essay, “What Happened to Obama?”, last summer. In Westin’s view Obama’s refusal to tell Americans a story like FDR or MLK was his primary failure. What the president did in his very first State of the Union Address was level with us. He stood before America and said we’d lived through an era “where too often, short-term gains were prized over long-term prosperity; where we failed to look beyond the next payment, the next quarter, or the next election.” Rather than coddle us, he leveled with us. We’d let our optimism run amuck. And for too long that same reckless optimism — the sense that everything should be fixed by now — has hijacked the conversation about an accomplished presidency that has advanced legislation to assist working people, women, people of color, gay and lesbian citizens, veterans, and younger Americans, and would have been unthinkable under McCain. (If you’re interested, an exhaustive list of the current administration’s achievements so far can be accessed on The PCTC (Please … Cut The Crap!) Blog.) Now the president is setting his sights on ensuring the 1% contribute their fair share. And through it all he’s continued to champion a bipartisan message that unites rather than divides the country. What more do we expect? Or are we just hellbent on perpetual dissatisfaction?

The breakthroughs in cognitive science are showing us who we are and how we operate in a language that is irrefutably honest. A lot of what we think we know about ourselves, our actions and our motivations just isn’t true. Memory is faulty. Bias is pervasive. Self-deception runs deep. And as difficult as it may be to wrap our brains around the implications of this growing body of knowledge, it’s important that we do so before we make a disastrous mistake just because we hope a quick fix can save the day. There is no silver bullet. We got lucky with Obama. Frankly, I’m encouraged by the direction our imperfect country is headed in. I may not see the end of the corporate state or Wall Street greed just yet, but the signs of economic recovery are real. Unemployment claims are down, the most recent jobs report showed notable growth and home sales are up. On balance the world is a safer, freer and more just than it was four years ago. That. Ain’t. Bad. If it means we can live long enough to fight for the better tomorrows we all eagerly anticipate and rightfully deserve, than I’ll take it. Yes, indeed.

Essentials: 7 Albums I Couldn’t Live Without

By Derek Beres

This first in my Essentials: Music Series was the hardest to decide. Later posts will be broken down into genre. Like those, this is not a complete “Greatest Hits” of albums, but more a compendium of albums that have such strong emotional pull in my life that I could, possibly, live without them. I just would never want to.

A Tribe Called Quest: Midnight Marauders
Very few weekend nights went by at Rutgers without this record bumping in my, um, 1986 Chrysler Laser. When I dropped that car off to charity in ’99, I was auto-less for 12 years. Miraculously, when my wife and I bought our first together in 2011 (not a Laser), this album came right into steady rotation. Tribe was always ahead of its time by being very much embedded in its time. Timelessness is rare in music, especially so in hip-hop. Sure, there are plenty of cultural references that will define the early ‘90s, but the beats, rhymes and life they were living continues to be relevant. The total joy of “We Can Get Down” (the song Erica and I chose to walk up the aisle to after being wed), Q-Tip’s unmatched swagger on “Electric Relaxation,” the head and hip nods of “Award Tour”—they captured an energy that will never be harnessed again (not romanticizing a ‘better time,’ just saying they nailed it).

Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan: Body and Soul
My introduction to the great Pakistani Qawwal was after he cut his record with Canadian producer Michael Brook, Night Song. An amazin intro, I soon fell in love with traditional qawwali (though Brook’s stellar guitar playing and usage of old Peter Gabriel electronic loops did add a new dimension to this art form). Nonetheless, I was hooked the moment that “Mayey Nee Main Dhak Farid Dey Jana” blazed out of my speakers. To know Nusrat is to love the legacy he left behind: hundreds of bootlegged concerts you can find at any Indian and Pakistani grocer for $5 a burned disc. While I also have a love affair with the two-disc Rick Rubin sessions for their incredible production dexterity, Body and Soul is my favorite complete album, with each of the four songs reminding me why a simple configuration of voice, harmonium, tabla and handclaps offers the most transporting listening experience imaginable.

Jeff Buckley: Grace
There’s a thirteen-minute live version of “Mojo Pin” on a bootleg in which the unfortunately deceased Buckley moans and shudders for six before exploding on this incredible, delicate song, a tribute to a close friend who couldn’t kick heroin. Hearing Buckley compare chocolate and god in the same line is only to begin to understand the lyrical wizardry of one of last century’s greatest voices. To this day it’s challenging for me to hear “Lover, You Should Have Come Over” without a tear. While his version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” might be played at every wedding and yoga class, you have to give the man credit. He heard music differently than the rest of us, and returned it in a way that none of us could match. Instead we just enjoy the luxurious, at times relaxed and at times irate voice of a genius.

John Coltrane: Africa/Brass
Pick one Coltrane album. Really? My gut goes with whatever “Out of This World” is on. Problem is, this post is devoted to records, and none has been played as often as Africa/Brass.  Three songs clock in at just under 34 minutes, every second absolutely brilliant. With My Favorite Things and Giant Steps behind him, Coltrane upped his own ante by inviting twenty others into the studio for his first Impulse recording. This was a few years before free jazz, Trane leaving his more reserved self behind while staying within the context of structure and harmony that made him famous. The lead track, “Africa,” remains one of his best, while the version of “Greensleeves” presented on the LP will influence generations of jazz players to come.

Gil Scott Heron: Winter in America
In the late years of last century and early years of this, I had the opportunity to see Gil Scott-Heron perform live at SOB’s on three occasions. Each time he came out between two and four hours after he was supposed to hit the stage (a stretch even in SOB’s time). Each time it was only him and his piano. And each time I impatiently waited for the next time. Few men can sit in front of 700 people and keep you interested the way he could. And few albums are as beautiful, melodic and thoughtful as Winter in America. His tragic drug abuse was certainly self-caused; it’s a true shame. Few poets of this depth remain, and this warrior’s passing felt like something great had left the planet.

Kayhan Kalhor: The Wind
With his groundbreaking work in the North Indian/Persian project Ghazal alongside sitar great Shujaat Khan, as well as his performances with the Masters of Persian Music with Mohammad Reza Shajarian and Hossein Alizadeh, the Iranian kamancheh (spiked fiddle) maestro evolved his genre once again on this collaboration with two Turkish baglama greats. The baglama, an oud-like lute resembling a saz in tone and texture, plays gorgeously off Kalhor’s seemingly effortless bowed playing. Considering this fantastic recording is predominantly improvisational only lends power to the notion that all three players are masters of their instruments. There is but one way to listen to The Wind, and that is in its entirety.

Portishead: Dummy
It saddens me that trip-hop had such a limited shelf life. Sure, you’ll find a throwback once in a while. The entire Portishead/Massive Attack/Tricky contingent has gotten musically depressed and complicated. Gone are the days of a simple beat, solid bass line and a punchy kick drum. And gone is the day when Beth Gibbons sat back over that simple beat and bled her heart dry for us all to bare witness. Again, I’m in no way against changing a sound. Plenty of projects have been very good at it. Portishead has not been one of them. But we have Dummy
. We’ll always have Dummy.

Why Occupy is Not the Tea Party

By Derek Beres

The answer in one word: creativity.

Yet nothing is so easy to understand. If you watch and read enough media outlets, you get the sense that American politics are divided into two extremes, with a hearty middle wondering which way the ship will tip. On one side, the Tea Party, responsible for everything from reviving and extremifying the right wing to pulling the puppet strings on John Boehner’s tender scapulas with issues like the payroll tax cut. On the other, modern day hippies armed with iPhones and laptops, errant citizens without jobs who should just go get one, upset and angered masses that have somehow turned the national conversation into percentage points and corporate domination.

Media entities have done a great job at dividing these two camps, though some intelligent thinkers have connected the dots between them: lower taxes for individuals and families earning respectable and not outlandish wages, less governmental interference, more personal freedom. Comparisons must end there. One movement represents change with the other vehemently opposing it. A better way to put it is to say that one wants movement and the other wants to retreat.

The Tea Party is predominantly comprised of individuals imagining a political past that never existed to begin with, which is why this base emits strong religious fervor. At least a portion is comprised of single-issue voters, in which the religion a political candidate practices can sway their vote. For them, inventing a spirituality to suit their needs is acceptable; the same holds true with their politics. And so their American Eden: a supposedly historical moment when everyone paid enough taxes, worked enough hours, and received enough social benefits to make life worthwhile. Schools taught, politicians led and workers worked.

This may have been the case for a fraction of our nation, and indeed may still be so depending on what industry employs you. Yet the factual validity of such a utopian society is impossible to find. I was born just after the era of Civil and Women’s Rights, and these battles are still being waged, progressed as we may pretend to be. Never has America served the total public, and with the way our politics are heading, the chances of such a reality are slimming. To recognize that the Tea Party emerged shortly after we elected our first African-American President is only to scratch the surface of the backward-looking mentality that dominates what is today called the right wing.

The political mind and the religious mind are not divided. They inform one another. If you believe one thing and live another, the fracture between belief and reality is not going to be healthy for you on an individual level, nor for your contribution to an emerging global culture. In Tea Party America, the divide is great. Dreaming up an invented American Eden is indicative of someone who seeks heaven in the future and a savior of the past. The constant distraction of these past and future havens ensures that such a mind is never actually present.

Which is where the loosely knitted Occupy movement diverges. Everything about it serves this moment: unfair tax structures, women’s rights, civil rights, immigrant rights, and a host of other issues that are being addressed. There might be bad lip reading youtube clips to keep us entertained, but organizational meetings entertaining the possibility of a new economic system are helping us realize that other ways of living are possible. Innovation evolves the foundation of thinking—it forces us to think clearer, think smarter, think better, and ideally, think in terms of everyone.

What is being sought in the Occupy circles is the type of change that creates a better society in and for the future, not an idealistic dream of sometime past. This engagement with the present is an actual act of creation, its dreamers erecting a sturdy foundation out of the scattered parts of the collective national mind. It is inclusive of every type of being that yearns for unity, not one critical and judgmental of those who hold divergent opinions from our own, be they religious, political and so forth.

It is a movement that endures pepper spraying, winter chills, public camping grounds and Fox News. Most importantly, it is creative in its applications of resistance. The protestors march along K Street and peacefully disrupt lunches and press conferences to make their message heard. They lie on the sidewalk and unroll red carpets for millionaire politicians to walk over them. They make videos and songs and speeches and poetry. They turn their frustrations into something beneficial and beautiful, even if it’s as simple as making us laugh. The absurdity of our politics has become so great that laughter is all we can truly offer our elected sheep parading in wolves’ clothing.

One thing you have never seen come out of any Tea Party rally is art. You see complaining and, if it’s raining outside, an empty field. Occupy is not about going to a rally for three hours with cardboard and magic markers and returning home. It’s a mental state, a way of being, one seeking creative solutions to previously unaddressed problems.

Occupy is a movement in which the doing is in the hands of the people. We should not be surprised that Tea Party-elected officials refuse to cut payroll taxes yet want to drain organizations like NPR and various arts funds: the creative process is a dangerous one to people who want to live in the past, even when their history never occurred. That doesn’t stop them—they simply invent one. It’s up to the rest of us to invent, and create, things that are worthy of who we are as compassionate and caring human beings. This is a process that draws us together, so that we will not further be torn apart.

Image by flickr user Casey Fox.

Can 50 Cent Feed Africa?

Words & Pic by Derek Beres

The 1985 “We Are the World” campaign successfully implanted the idea of feeding “starving Africans” into the American consciousness. Over the past quarter-century, feeding the peoples of the African continent has been a celebrity cause du jour, a GMO company’s marketing nightmare, and for a few non-profit organizations, a daily struggle. Hip-hop emcee 50 Cent recently became the latest icon to make a bold humanitarian declaration concerning this plight, tweeting that he’s going to feed one billion Africans over the next five years.

The initial revelation came to 50, whose real name is Curtis Jackson, after spending time in Morocco filming “Home of the Brave,” a 2006 Iraq-war themed movie starring Samuel Jackson. (Morocco’s burgeoning film industry specializes in desert locations for inspired Hollywood directors seeking lands that look Middle Eastern but aren’t actually in the Middle East.) Returning to headline the 2011 edition of Festival de Casablanca, Jackson found that he was perceived as something akin to a god—official estimates reported 100,000 attending his free outdoor performance. (Jackson himself tweeted 200,00.) Hundreds of signs stating “I Love 50 Cent” cluttered the throbbing sea of arms; one youth shouted, “50 Cent is my life!” as he jumped onto the hood of the rapper’s van when it tried to leave the festival grounds post-concert.

All this is to say that 50 Cent is possibly more popular in Africa than in his native country. On the flight home the following day, one member of Jackson’s entourage said that it was the second craziest show of his career. The first was a now-mythologized performance in Angola, in which Jackson’s chain was ripped off his neck in the middle of a song. There is little doubt that the music of 50 Cent feeds generations of fans in Africa. Can he turn that into ingestible sustenance?

A number of Jackson’s nearly five million Twitter followers ping-ponged his Africa tweet around the blogosphere, pasting the proclamation with thumbs up signs and “You go 50!” addendums. A few hours before his Casablanca gig, I asked him to be a bit more specific regarding the details. How would he go about funneling that type of money onto the continent? And what countries would he focus on? His reply was thoughtful, thought not exactly telling.

“All different territories,” he replied. “Obviously I’d have to have support in different areas to accomplish this over the next five years. Moving forward, I’ve developed what I call the SKs, or Street Kings, and I feel like I can be more of an inspiration and be more effective in different areas of my actual life, so I look forward to being able to impact and effect people in a strong way moving forward. And that would be one of my first steps towards actually accomplishing it. And when I develop anything, any project that I support, I’ll have created a way of a donating a portion of whatever I make towards feeding a billion people over the next five years.” He concluded by saying, “I did this on Twitter. To anyone who felt like it was a good idea, I asked them to retweet it.”

Re-reading this at home reminded me of listening to the Obama-Boehner-Reid-Cantor chess match—well, at this point, more like checkers—regarding the debt ceiling: big ideas with little implementation. A few years ago, while chatting with Ziggy Marley about the “Back to Africa” project that he was producing with his brothers, I ran into a similar issue. He kept throwing out popular bullet points, such as Africans needing more education and food. By the third time that I asked him what actual steps the Marleys were taking—building schools, writing curriculum, planting gardens—his voice raised two octaves. The last thing I wanted to do was piss off a Marley. Yet like politicians, artists need to be held accountable for their statements. His reply:

“If we could somehow use our resources, instead of people killing each other and selling it all over the black market, or the white market—let’s call it the white market—if we could stop doing that and actually have some control over what is in our ground, we could gain some more financial power in the world, and then start to better the educational system, the medicines, and the food supplies. There is no need for people to go hungry in Africa when there are all these financial resources. Let’s find one identity for the African continent, one passport for all the African people. Let’s start somewhere, it doesn’t have to be one great step. Let’s start simple. It don’t even have to be a big t’ing.”

No, but it has to be something. While his points are valid, he never answered my question. Visiting the Marley website, we find that the brothers did play a free show in Africa. There is also plenty of promotional material about the reality-based documentary regarding their travels, as well as marketing links for their Bob Marley-inspired coffee company and Snapple-like cold tea beverage.

I wish 50 Cent the best of luck in feeding one billion Africans, as long as we recognize the dangerous trap that that sentiment provokes, so brilliantly captured by Ghana-born rapper Blitz the Ambassador: “Africa has become synonymous with charity.” Jackson is one of the few American musicians with the clout and capital to pull something like this off. He just needs to understand that it will require many full-time jobs and a tremendously disciplined mindset for transitioning his idea into reality. Otherwise, it’s just one more tweet in the Twitterverse.