Sherry Chandler

I want to call your attention to this Adam Cohen op-ed in last Sunday’s NYT:

The early stages of the Iraq war may have been a watershed in American optimism. The happy talk was so extreme it is now difficult to believe it was sincere: “we will be greeted as liberators”; “mission accomplished”; the insurgency is “in the last throes.” Most wildly optimistic of all was the goal: a military action transforming the Middle East into pro-American democracies.

The gap between predictions and reality has left Americans deeply discouraged. So has much of what has happened, or not happened, at the same time. Those who believed New Orleans would rebound quickly after Hurricane Katrina have seen their hopes dashed. Those counting on solutions to health care, energy dependence or global warming have seen no progress. It is no wonder the nation is in a gloomy mood; 71 percent of respondents in a recent Associated Press-Ipsos poll said the country is on the wrong track.

These are ideal times for the release of “Pessimism: Philosophy, Ethic, Spirit,” by Joshua Foa Dienstag, a U.C.L.A. political theorist. Mr. Dienstag aims to rescue pessimism from the philosophical sidelines, where it has been shunted by optimists of all ideologies. …

Pessimism, however, is the most un-American of philosophies. This nation was built on the values of reason and progress, not to mention the “pursuit of happiness.”

I could have sworn this nation was built on cynicism and exploitation with a little genocide thrown in, but then I read too much history and I learn lessons that differ from Donald Rumsfeld’s. I’m a pessimist. Though actually, I’d call myself a realist. I think we’ve forgotten the word pollyanna is this country.

But it’s true. We work hard to sell ourselves the notion that we’re a nation of optimists. Americans are not allowed to be sad, even if there is plenty to be sad about.

All this happy talk gets on my nerves. Take for example a special report on living longer in the latest issue of AARP The Magazine. Centenarian studies, it tells us in a section called Science, have found that the long-lived have certain characteristics in common:

consistent exercise, not smoking, an ability to deal with stress, long-standing religious beliefs, and an independent spirit.

A little late to be telling me this when I am presumably over 55 (the age at which you first start to become eligible for “senior citizen” stuff), and have been stressing out and vegging out all my life and am unlikely to transform myself. Still, it isn’t really this list that bothers me so much. Just about any doctor will tell you this is the way to stay healthy. It’s author Joe Treen’s implication that all this adds up to the “cheery positive outlook” of their exemplary centenarian, a “charming, gregarious man” who writes songs and children’s stories at 101.

When I read stuff like this, the message I hear is “conform to the norm or die.” (Or, as my son sees it, “be an extravert or die.”) But the fact is, we’re all going to die. Even the NYTimes recognizes that (see Death of a Supercentenarian). And the news seems to scare Americans…um…to death. Or at least to boring hours on the treadmill when they could be watching the trajectory of a humming bird.

I have nothing against cheerfulness. I admire my 88-year-old mother tremendously for the joy she can still find in life in spite of a whole raft of painful health problems. But look, longevity has its down-side. Ask all those old people warehoused in nursing homes. Remember those harrowing photographs of poor old people trapped in the Superdome just a year ago.

To that list of characteristics of centenarians, I wonder whether we could add the luck to be born in places where they could get good nutrition and clean living conditions without the threat of genocidal civil war or epidemic disease, a territory by preference without exploitable resources (like, say, oil).

Just for the record, though it gets me in all kinds of trouble to say these things, I tend to think religious belief is like homosexuality — it’s not a choice. Don’t get me started on faith as an insurance policy against death.

And as for my mother, her biggest fear isn’t death but that death-in-life called stroke.

But back to Cohen on Dienstag:

Optimists see history as the story of civilization’s ascent. Pessimists believe, Mr. Dienstag notes, in the idea that any apparent progress has hidden costs, so that even when the world seems to be improving, “in fact it is getting worse (or, on the whole, no better).” Polio is cured, but AIDS arrives. Airplanes make travel easy, but they can drop bombs or be crashed into office towers. There is no point in seeking happiness. When joy “actually makes its appearance, it as a rule comes uninvited and unannounced,” insisted Schopenhauer, the dour German who was pessimism’s leading figure.

…

Part of Mr. Bush’s legacy may well be that he robbed America of its optimism — a force that Franklin Delano Roosevelt and other presidents, like Ronald Reagan, used to rally the country when it was deeply challenged.

Well, I’m willing to blame George W. Bush for everything including the pimple on the end of my nose, but I have serious doubts about blind optimism. People can be led to do all kinds of foolish things by optimistic leaders. I happen to think Ronald Reagan led us cheerfully over the edge of a cliff like a bunch of optimistic lemmings.

It’s not that I’m a gloom-and-doom type. It’s not even that I think action is useless. I just think it’s way past time to take off the rose-colored glasses. We have some big problems to solve and we need to get solving them.

Meantime, I look forward to reading Dienstag’s book because, as Cohen says,

…pessimists are generally more engaging and entertaining than optimists, and because, as the author notes, “the world keeps delivering bad news.” It is almost tempting to throw up one’s hands and sign on with Schopenhauer.

AAAaaarrrrggghhhh! It’s everywhere. I open up my staff newspaper, rather dazzlingly titled UK News, and find this headline: Professor’s books shows pessimists how they can think optimistically. As though pessimists should want to be optimists. As though optimism were the default condition and pessimism somehow a handicap to be overcome.

[Suzanne] Segerstrom [in her book Breaking Murphy's Law] lays out examples, guidelines and practical tips to undo optimism-suppressing thoughts… “Optimism is powerful stuff,” Segerstrom said.

Ah, The Power of Positive Thinking… it never goes away.