Detachment

 If you’re like me, your world has been turned upside down over the past three years.  Institutions that you thought you could count on have gone rogue.  People that you counted on as friends abandoned you if you questioned the wisdom of the jab or masking.  If you did not genuflect to the image of Ibram X. Kendi, you were branded a racist.  Of course, if you showed any support for Trump at all, you were a fascist. If you questioned child pornography in middle school libraries, you were labeled a book banner.   If you dared raise questions about the 2020 election process, you were a conspiracy theorist and a threat to democracy.

It was as if someone had, in the middle of a chess game, kicked over the board and scattered all the pieces.

What is a rational person to do?

Having struggled with some of these things myself, I can offer a few tips, as to what to do with people and institutions as Woke madness grips the West.  

The answer, I think,  lies in detachment.  I have found that viewing Wokeness through the model of addiction is the most useful for managing relationships in this era.   Al-Anon and Hazelton teach detachment from the addicted person.  

Detachment is neither kind nor unkind.  It does not imply judgment of the person or situation from which we are detaching- it is simply a way we can protect ourselves.  By separating ourselves from the adverse effects of another’s personal addiction(s) [or Wokeness], it can be a means of detaching; this does not mean that we need to physically separate.  Detachment can help us look at our situations realistically and objectively.  

Viewing a person or institution gripped by Wokeness through the prism and model of addiction is the most useful way of managing your relationships.

First, is the easy part—institutions that go Woke.

 And so many went fully Woke.  And they went fast.  I was a charter member of the American Writers Museum when it opened in 2017 and started with programs featuring Ernest Hemmingway, Laura Ingalls Wilder and F. Scott Fitzgerald.  But within 3 years, it was featuring Kathy Griffin and an obscure transgender writer. I immediately dropped my membership, just as I dropped the Newberry Library as soon as it sponsored Drag Queen Story Hour for kids.

Those were the easy ones.  The University of Chicago was harder because I had such deep ties to the institution and because it had such an impact on my development and was part of my identity.  But when the school decided to admit into its graduate English program only students that were interested in “Black Studies,” and the business school sponsored a program on White Privilege, it was time to say goodbye.    Because some of my oldest friendships center on the University of Chicago, the trick has been to detach from the institution without detaching from my old friends.  I have asked to be removed from their email list and the alumni magazine.  Yet I will attend events where my friends are present.   So far, I have achieved a balance.

In general, detaching from institutions does not present too many difficulties.   You drop your memberships and donations and stop attending events or fundraisers and swap out.  I have substituted other non-Woke organization (Library of America, for instance) to become affiliated with. 

People are much harder—especially when they are closer to you.  As Jodie Shaw (formerly of Smith College) noted – your circles will contract considerably.  And she was correct.  Mine have.

Some, I had to simply let go of.  My great uncle sent me a blistering, nasty email when I civilly challenged his liberal orthodoxy on climate change.  I left my regular weekly golf foursome when they contracted a severe case of Trump Derangement Syndrome and could talk about nothing else for four hours at a crack.  Likewise, I disconnected from professional contacts that inappropriately used professional platforms like LinkedIn to spew their TDS or worship of Kamala Harris or registered their bellyaching over the Dobbs decision.   I either mute or delete contacts that put pronouns in their bios.  I figure if I don’t know you well enough to know what you are, it’s going to be hard to do business together.  I call it de-networking.  

The hard part involves the Woke that are either family members or with whom you have long term, valued relationships. I have had some success by having frank discussions with them about steering clear of topics involving politics.  I just tell them it’s something I would prefer not to discuss, that there are other things I’d rather talk about.  Usually, they will respect that position.

Coming to grips with the realization that a Woke individual or an institution captured by Wokeness is similar to having an alcoholic or drug addicted friend or relative.  Your best bet is detachment.  It’s hard, especially if these were people that were close to you. It’s disorienting.  But when reason, data and logic are ineffective, you have little other choice.  Arguing with the Woke is a complete and utter exercise in futility.  You will not persuade them, and the longer you exchange with them, the more you look foolish for even bothering to engage.  It will not be an intellectually honest exchange of views.  It is usually easy to figure it out pretty quickly because they inevitably resort to labeling early on.   You are called a “fascist,” “racist,” “bigot,” “Trumper” or such other slander.  On social media and in person, I have a simple rule—once someone engages in that, the conversation stops.

I continue to adjust to this new game, but I’m learning and I hope these suggestions will be helpful to you.

Detachment is never easy, but if you learn how to do it, it will help your own mental well being.