Who Moved My World?

Stephen Barden's central theme in this series on power is that  those who believe they have a balanced, manageable relationship with their world are the most effective and healthy members of our society. 

In this episode he asks the question: why do more and more people feel that they are unheard and that they have little impact in their world? That they have little power in their worlds? 

Stephen argues that  those who feel ineffectual in their own environment will ultimately "move worlds". Historically that meant emigrating or finding sanctuary in sects or communities of like mind. Now, however, we have a new escape route: one that is, literally, close at hand. And, that he argues leaves a dangerous vacuum in society.

For more information about Stephen Barden and his work please visit:
www. stephenbarden.org
or
https://www.linkedin.com/in/stephenbarden/

Transcript

WHO MOVED  MY WORLD?

As human beings we learn, explore, acquire knowledge for one reason only: 

 to do; to act. We keep on learning so that we can act more effectively in our world. Not the world – ourworld; where we interact and have presence. So, our learning is not just about acquiring knowledge of ourselves, or of our world but of the interaction between us and it. Of our relationship with it. And that interaction is tempered by what we have experienced as the balance of power we have with our world – what we have learned we can or cannot do; what value we have to it, what it has to us.  What values we and our world share.  Is our world friendly, an ally, a competitor or an enemy? And so on.

And these experiences are most deeply felt and embedded when we are children because of course that’s when the discovery of ourselves in the world is still so fresh. So that’s when we form our foundational assumptions. The so-called beliefs that say: this is who I am. 

So, what we think of as our personality – or self – is really tightly linked to this

drive to experience ourselves in relation to the world, to make our place in our world. And that experience needs to be both action and feedback: a tangible result; confirmation that we have some impact in our immediate environment. That we have some control over our lives; that we matter.  

When that ability to interact is severely constricted or -probably more important – when we stop believingthat we can make a space for ourselves and that whatever we do has little or no impact on our context – on our world - we tend to look for alternatives. And those are really quite limited: we can have another go at doing something individually or we can get together with others and take collective action. If neither of those options works, we have two more which could in certain instances be one and the same thing:  we shrink the world where we operate. (where we think we have a much better chance of having an impact). Or… we change our world: we try and change the entire context in which we can or cannot act.

The religious persecution and slaughter of Protestants (of various hues) by Catholics and by Protestants of Catholics in 16th and 17th century Europe are pretty good examples of what I’m talking about. When individual and collective action didn’t work, they hid or lowered their profile to escape attention. They shrank their world. Then when that didn’t work, many of them moved to what they hoped to be more sympathetic or safer regions nearby. And when they were still pursued, they changed their world completely and sailed to (for example) North America or South Africa. The irony, of course is that what they did, and how they treated the inhabitants of that new world was shaped by the values and assumptions of power that they had experienced in Europe or Britain. Those who escape persecution and violence take with them the burden of fear and lack of power – the immensely powerful assumption that the world is a dangerous place for those without superior power. 

The Democratic Republic of the Congo is a more modern example. Of its around 109 million people, over 23 million of them are facing extreme hunger (that’s over 4 times the population of Denmark, over twice the population of Greece and Belgium, and 4 million more than the population of New York State. Much of the current problems have been caused by conflicts, terror and persecutions by both warring militia and those grasping to control the country’s valuable mineral resources. In my other podcast on refugees, a young man from DRC told me, how he too went through this sequence of changing worlds. First he and his family shrank their world:  they tried to keep a low profile and hid from the militias. Then when his father was butchered, they fled to another part of the country, which they thought would be more sympathetic. More shrinkage.  And finally, when his mother was killed and his siblings abducted, this sole survivor fled to Uganda. And in order to ensure that he did not export that virus of weaponised power, the rage of fear, he made sure that he devoted his life to helping those with even less power – while working to understand and mediate his own fears.   

Those examples are the extremes. People changing their world for existential reasons. But much as those in the affluent world experience relative poverty – poverty that may feel extreme relative to those on the other side of town but which is nowhere near the deprivation experienced in Gaza, the Sudan or Yemen - so we have relative powerlessness. We may not ever experience forced labour or slavery in Seattle or Stuttgart, but we can be made to feel incredibly threatened by bullying, abuse or even pressure to perform in our liberal world. 

So, for example, you’ve been trying for years to get someone to listen to you about being molested by the boss.  HR tells you not to rock the boat – and anyway it’s your word against his, hers, theirs. What about collective action? Which part of “your word against theirs” did you not understand? So, you prepare yourself to despair and shrink your world. Telling yourself that a) they’re all lying bastards; b) they’re all in it for themselves and (most important) c) they’re never going to listen to me..

Or you’ve been told again and again and again that you live in a meritocracy and, as long as you work hard and well, and are loyal, you’ll thrive. You did that – and you lost your job. You try and get another job (that’s your individual action) but your skills are no longer needed. Collective action? It may work – eventually- if you’re in a highly needed sector, but what’s the point if your company’s gone bankrupt or moved off shore, or your union has been weakened over the years or even banned from your workplace? So, you accept your helplessness and shrink your world. Telling yourself that a) they’re all lying, bastards; b) they’re all in it for themselves etc, etc, etc…. 

But, unlike the Huguenots or the people of the DRC, in this more affluent society, you have another world that is really very close at hand. And you don’t even have to move town, let alone country.

Because, in the meantime, you have been doing something else. You’ve been doom scrolling. Which, as you probably know, is the ultimate of shrinking your world. But never mind. And while you’ve been doing that, you’ve also been liking, commenting or chatting with new friends and connections on social media. And guess what? They listen. They react when you make a comment. 

And even if you don’t actually take part in the conversation, they’re sending you a clear message: Me too. Me too – I lost my job and I feel useless.. Me too: my boss did that to me too. I understand. It happened to me too. 

Now you’re beginning to belong.

And then it gets even better, the groups or the people you follow start shouting really loudly; you join them. You don’t have to do much: your likes, views, re-posts add to the roar.  The shouting becomes so loud that film studios, governments and even huge corporations listen. And what’s more they feel they have to do something. They fire those accused, they recast entire movies, they redesignate gender neutral toilets; laws are changed. Some people are tried and convicted. Others are simply cancelled. You might not get your job back, but there are a hell of a lot of people out there mad as hell. 

In this world, the virtual world, you can make things happen. Or at least, the evidence says you can. In the real world you cannot. Or at least, that’s what you’ve experienced. 

So, you change worlds. 

Or, more accurately, you participate in, and are enthused by, the virtual world where things happen. You spectate, and are depressed by, the real world where – you’re convinced – you have little or no influence.

Reality is where we can act. As an individual, a world in which I can actively participate and help make things happen is “real”, literally “actual”. A world in which I have become convinced I cannot make things happen becomes virtual to me. It becomes intangible. 

The physical world becomes virtual and the virtual actual.

So, when it comes to the slaughter and starvation of human beings in Palestine or Myanmar or Sudan and even the continuing destruction of our planet - we tut-tut, we may even donate but we remain, most of us, ultimately detached. Because we are watching, at best, a ‘live stream’ of a physical world where we do not belong. 

The world where you do belong, in this example, is not all of social media, by the way. It isn’t even your favourite platform. It’s those you follow, or follow you on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, X or even LinkedIn. 

And this might seem absurd at first glance – but it’s a tiny community. Yes, people may have hundreds of thousands, millions or even hundreds of millions of followers across platforms, but your emotional connection is to them personally. Your head may tell you that they have no idea who you are. But your heart tells you that the link is with Donald or Kamala, Selena or Taylor personally. 

Our virtual community becomes the world that matters. 

And because it matters so much, because it is a haven to which we have escaped, this duality makes us all less able to discuss, to debate – to embrace different ideas. If I have just discovered the joy of being listened to and being able to change things with very little effort, I am not going to be very tolerant of any disagreement: either back in the uncaring physical world or in my newly found social media world. I will most likely interpret disagreement – however polite – as an attack: “not only did the uncaring-lying-bastard-physical-world block me from acting in its world, but now, it’s threatening to invade my safe haven. That’s not going to happen: I’m cancelling you. 

The problem is that the cancellation of other viewpoints may make us feel safe and listened to in this bubble, but it also makes us less, not more, relevant. 

This world that we escape to is a tiny world. It’s one where curiosity – the foundation of human development and innovation – is discouraged. Not only because safety is the priority of the fearful and unheard, but because…well, the clue is in the word “followers”. 

Success in this world is measured by how many followers that influencers have. And influencers don’t want their followers to be curious and look for alternative viewpoints. Not necessarily maliciously or even in a consciously controlling way. But it's logical that if my success is measured by how many people follow me, I’m not going to encourage you to go elsewhere. 

Now you’ve probably guessed, this is not a podcast about the evils of social media. This is about human beings seeking to find worlds where their actions and presence are recognised, where they matter. Not necessarily where they can make huge impact, but where, in their world, however small, they matter. 

This is not a new phenomenon.  We’ve been creating or changing worlds – to restore balances of power, to be listened to and to make space for ourselves - for centuries.  Guilds of craftsmen and merchants in England were formed very soon after the Norman conquest to do exactly that.  Trade unions, political parties, debating clubs, trade associations, and even some newspapers all were formed as sanctuaries – smaller, more focused, fortified worlds where people were listened to, and were able to act with impact and feedback. Where people were able to rebalance the power with their immediate world; to act and to learn to act more effectively. 

Unfortunately, gradually, and sometimes not so gradually, these sanctuary worlds lost the ability to listen, lost the ability to include, and ended up enabling only an elite few- those who gained power in these havens. The institution – and its most powerful influencers – became more important than the people who were the reason for its formation in the first place. Instead of being sanctuary worlds where people could be heard and could participate, they became the acolyte worlds of the few. The worlds of influencers – and followers.

The point I’m making is that social media are not to blame for the fracture of society or political life. They are the latest sanctuary worlds that are now -literally – in the palms of our hands. What’s new is that social media are able, because of the paradox of being both incredibly personal and incredibly far reaching, to both enable and encourage huge volumes of followers to feel they have personal impact. 

If my logic – or illogic if you like – is remotely on target, then the most effective social media campaigns, for good or evil, are incredibly adept: - at being personal (“we’re doing this is for you”, you matter); at validating their message with huge numbers ( “we are- all 200 million of us - in this together; us too”);  at claiming to create space for you to act as an individual and (somehow, I think this is the clincher) at providing feedback back in the physical world. 

And those that aim specifically at the despairing and unheard, are saying - One - you belong here. We hear you. And two: “we will drain the swamp; so that you can act, make your space in the physical world. We will knock down their edifices – so they can’t block you anymore. We’re not promising to make things better for all of society – just for you. We’re not promising to build. We’re promising to clear things out. For you “

It becomes pretty clear why the disenchanted, the angry and the constricted become unquestioning followers but why do the relatively affluent and apparently content also seek the alternative world of social media? Have we reached the stage where no matter whom we elect, what we produce, we feel nothing has changed? That we are becoming more and more remote from both our own communities, our own employers and own politicians? That – relatively – we have as little impact on our world as the despairing and the unheard? That, somehow we have become saturated by power imbalances throughout the world: the imbalance of those at war and those at peace; those in excess and those in hunger; the Private Equity giants and yet another local company that has been bought and dismantled. We too are being confronted daily with the narrative of power imbalances and conflict: in the way local, national and global politics is conducted and in the way our societies described by both social and traditional media: as places of conflict and imbalance 

The assumption that the best television or the best article is characterised by a good old fight has dominated all the so-called traditional media for a very long time. On social media, the only difference is that instead of reporters writing conflict stories, influencers and their followers are doing it themselves. On television, it makes “good viewing” (apparently) if we seat opposing politicians right next to each other and then watch them having a real go at each other. Or two football managers, or two neighbours, or two dogs. Even if we can’t understand a word they’re saying because they’re snarling and yapping over one another. Even if, at the end of it, we know nothing more about their policies or their differences or what they’re planning for the country. Even the BBC’s rule of impartiality, seems to me to be based on conflict: Section 4.1 of their editorial guidelines, says “Due impartiality usually involves more than a simple matter of ‘balance’ between opposing viewpoints.” it then goes on to say: “We must be inclusive, considering the broad perspective and ensuring that the existence of a range of views is appropriately reflected….so that no significant strand of thought is under-represented or omitted.” 

Fascinating: a balance between opposing viewpoints would seem to me to be neither “simple”, nor more restrictive than parading a number of viewpoints. Balance demands exploration, contemplation, and critical analysis of those viewpoints. Reflecting “a range of views” can be nothing more than a parade of conflicts.

Conflict is so central that we cannot even mourn death and suffering without inserting the conflict element. I had a conversation with someone the other day who, when I told him that I grieve the deaths and suffering of those in Gaza, felt bound to tell me that a) Hamas had started it; b) Israel had a right to defend itself and c) finally…yes this was tragic. This was not a callous man; this was someone who genuinely cared. But we are so embedded in the ethics of conflict that we cannot be fully compassionate with those who suffer or die, whoever they are.  Death is death. Suffering is suffering. You either empathise with whomsoever is experiencing that or you spectate; you become a member of the audience watching a contest of pain. Whataboutism is a spectator sport.

Ok, so where am I going with all this? The first problem, as you’ll have noticed, with retreating to a sanctuary is that you’re progressively splintering your own world. Every time you retreat, your world becomes smaller. So, ironically you are limiting (not expanding) the space in which you can act and be. You may be subscribing to someone who has a couple of hundred million followers but the context will be tiny – and will be set by the influencer. 

Then there is the acting. Are you really acting or are you making minimal effort – liking and, at a push, making (probably) an approving comment? If we learn so that we can act, and we try to learn more in order to act more effectively, what are we actually learning by liking and commenting approvingly?

The second problem with changing your terrain is that you leave the physical, actual, consequential world to those with physical, actual, consequential power. While you’re saying, “I hate all politicians” or “they’ll never change, so why bother”, those politicians will have a much clearer run to do exactly what they want. The more we feel we cannot act or even make a difference in the physical world, the less we actually do or say. And so, our influence shrivels. In short: when we retreat, we surrender the world. And in the meantime, the power that didn’t listen to you before, is of course, occupying both worlds. By being a follower, you not only diminish your ability to learn and so to act, but you are enabling the creation of huge new power blocs. And these in turn will make you feel even less relevant.  

So, what’s to be done? 

Recognise that the problem is not social media. And as I’ve said elsewhere, the problem is not and will not be AI. These are instruments of human beings – and both the problems and the solutions are always rooted in their creators. 

Social media are filling a deep-seated need that our social, political, educational -and commercial institutions are simply not addressing, let alone filling. That need, at its most fundamental level is to be able to act; to be able to influence one’s own life – to be able to shape one’s world. And remember, I am not talking about the world, but one’s own world. Although, if you feel you are able to shape your own world, you will – I believe – care about others. Because you will not see those suffering in Sudan as potential refugees about to invade your country. You will see them as fellow beings.  You will not fear being fired or cancelled if you speak out about the butchery in Gaza, the West Bank of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Your world becomes bigger the more you are able to feel consequent within it. Globalisation was supposed to broaden our horizons by harmonising the rules of trade and exchange. Well, harmonising does not necessarily benefit all equally. Those with the power and wealth to cross borders will certainly benefit. Those with local markets much less so. And those – of course – individuals and communities - who can be substituted by outsourcing across these harmonised borders will actually be hurt by globalisation.

More locally, we measure a country’s success by GDP – which says nothing at all about the relative wealth or quality of life of SME’s and individuals. And then we make them feel like failures – if they are not “performing “as well as the country apparently is. The fact that a country’s economy is deemed as thriving does not mean its citizens are. Much as a company’s profits are not an indication of the quality of life of its employees. 

And of course, social media – any alternative world – is not the solution. They are temporary havens that create the illusion of being safe havens. By definition they decrease our influence and our ability to act. They detach us from our physical world with the promise that they will grant us influence in their world. The key to that message is “their world”. 

 I don’t have the solution. But I do know that this imbalance of power – in which we feel that we make little difference - is dangerous. Perhaps decision-making government needs to be much more localised. Perhaps we do – as some advocate – need citizens assemblies or local referendums, but only if they are of some consequence. Perhaps we do need to prioritise local communities over global profits. We certainly need to relook at how we educate our children to be critical thinkers.  Critical thinking is not, as some politicians insist, the distortion or undermining of a country’s history or policies. It ensures that we question and contextualise our assumptions. Philosophers, like David Bohm, found it was much more important to know why people make certain decisions rather than what they decide. Perhaps then we really need to think holistically and even philosophically about the society we want to live in. Perhaps we need to remember that fundamental drive that we had as children: curiosity. Curiosity about our fellow beings and about our relationship with the worlds we all inhabit. Finally, perhaps we need to remember that the only really equitable balance of power has to start with partnership, the acknowledgement that – as partners – we have an obligation to share responsibility for our world. Instead of being followers in either the physical or the sanctuary, virtual worlds, let’s  just try thinking and working together in the real world. That is the only place we can really make a difference. And if you abandon it, you simply leave a vacancy, you simply leave a vacancy for someone else to fill.

As always, if you have comments or thoughts please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m Stephen Barden, this has been another episode of The Power of Balance.