'The America I Loved is Gone' ●
The American dream. For technocrats, a dying breed in the US, the term was shorthand for each generation doing better than the one before, for generally upward social mobility. There was more to it than that. There was an idea, an assumption really, that if you had enough talent and worked hard and did the smart thing, with a little luck you could live life just as you wanted. The country's founding promise, after all, is "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".
That promise is why success in America does not lead to gratitude but to an intense sensation of loss. The elite take any deviation from their fantasy existence as a broken contract. They've been ripped off. That is a big feeling among the most successful people in America: the sense of being ripped off.
The country clubs are rife with men and women, in incredible luxury, complaining bitterly about the state of the country. The richest and most powerful, the Americans who have won, who have everything, are still not happy, and why? Their answer is that the American dream must be broken. There is no one who feels more betrayed by the American dream than the world's richest man. Why else do you think he's out there with a chainsaw?
The American elites of the past 20 years have called their foremost principle freedom, but what they meant was impunity. That's what the original slave masters built: a world where they could do whatever they wanted to whomever they wanted, without consequences. That's what the techlords dream of today.
The truly frictionless world they seek eludes them exactly because it is a dream, because it is unreal. The ultimate truth of bubbles is that they pop.
I was born and raised in the UK, but my mother is American. The result is that I am a dual US and UK citizen.
When I was growing up, this provided enormous privilege and opportunity. (Particularly pre-Brexit.) I was undecided on what I wanted to be when I grew up, so heading to the US for university seemed an attractive option.
University in the US is a year longer and, unlike the UK, you can study a broader spectrum of topics before specialising.
I was particularly keen to dabble in a bit of Computer Science and, given I had relatively poor performance in mathematics, I was unlikely to have the opportunity — beyond continuing to self-teach — in the UK.
In 2005, I traveled to tour a number of US universities.
Across a variety of US states on the East Coast and in the South, I encountered a consistent dynamic. During the tours, the guides would ask the visitors to share their intended major.
In the ensuing moments, you'd immediately see the divide between American students and internationals. The Americans all seemed to know what their major would be — something drilled into them from a young age — while the internationals were generally more undecided.
Both then and now, it's a dynamic I found to be worrisome. In the US, it's becoming an increasingly pronounced generational tradition to study literal paths to the 'best' careers — business, in particular — rather than studying something indirect.
Why would you consider studying History? The only job, the thinking goes, is to become a teacher or a librarian or something similarly 'bad.'
In reality, the study of history — or just about any other subject in the humanities — yields a broad variety of uses, particularly a spectrum of tools for critical reasoning and analysis. These are important tools for any autonomous person in a modern workplace.
I don't mean to diminish the prospect of studying business. Studying specific things for specific outcomes is obviously required. (I don't expect many surgeons were previously English majors.) It's more that, when these topics are pursued on a transactional, incurious basis, it's little surprise that the US — from a business perspective — continues to manufacture such dysfunctional leaders and predatory industry at just about every level.
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I lived in the US for 18 years and the dynamic only worsened through that time.
As we departed for the UK last summer, I remember trying to synthesise my feelings on the US. To draw a line under the experience, at which point I'd spent 50% of my life in the UK and 50% in the US.
The conclusion was fairly simple: the US has become a place of incuriousness and reckless selfishness. And it's getting worse.
You can see fledgling examples of this in something like a university tour. But I think it's probably most evident in the way people drive. Enormous, inefficient cars driven wildly inconsistently — either extraordinarily fast or slow — without even the faintest of considerations of the context.
I am late, thus all of the people in the way are bad. I have made a wrong turn, thus I will come to a stop in the far right lane in order to make my way across highway traffic to the far left. I have an expensive car, thus I will park across two spaces to protect it.
This behaviour exists elsewhere in the world. Human selfishness is not an exclusive feature of the US. But, in context of all that's going on in the US today, it's clear that there's very little in the way of societal friction to it.
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A friend of mine is running for a school district seat in one of the wealthiest parts of the country. A successful businessman — largely self-made. He's politically fluid, but left-leaning. I'd wager he unironically describes himself as 'fiscally conservative, socially liberal.'
But, in his case, I do know him to be relatively progressive. In the aftermath of George Floyd's murder, he sought to examine his own blind spots and became very involved in a variety of initiatives and campaigns in serve of racial equality. Those efforts have continued unabated and, in parallel, he and his family have become very outspoken against guns.
I am not closely following a school district race from abroad, but it's clear he's enormously over-qualified for the role and, if a similar position were to exist in the UK, he'd be welcomed into the role, agnostic of politics. A successful businessman with a strong campaign purpose and a clear desire to provide civic service.
The core foundation of his campaign is that teachers in his district should have some of the best — if not the best — pay in the country. That's it. His belief is that it would help ensure the best education for the children passing through the school district, whilst also setting a positive precedent for the broader city for teacher compensation.
In most respects, none of this should be controversial. But, in context of the US, his campaign appears to be plagued with controversy.
Parents are panicked he's "woke" and, from the outside, it appears he's on the back foot trying to explain why caring for the wellbeing and equal opportunities of children is a positive.
I haven't spoken to him about it, but I would assume he thought he'd stroll through the election. He may still win with a comfortable margin, but, worryingly, I've already seen him have to alter his position on a number of topics (e.g., trans participation in sports).
I'd always admired the clarity with which he holds his beliefs and convictions. But they suddenly sound compromised. Apologetic. Asterisks everywhere.
Such is the nature of the beast in the US. As Marche says, Americans are ultimately seeking impunity. But it's something that only applies to their personal experience.
The belief in 'freedom' crumbles at the slightest hint of challenge, revealing something more pernicious and cruel.
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I enjoyed my years in the US. It was largely good to me. And, most importantly, I was able to start a family there, for which I am very grateful.
But I am not sad that we moved.
There is something so fiercely individualistic, cosmetic, and uncaring in the US. It's easy to slip into an unconscious place where it begins to feel normal and comfortable. It's not a positive or healthy level of comfort. It's something more akin to carbon monoxide poisoning. A fatal dulling of the senses.
I'd always felt that it was merely a symptom of an ongoing experiment. A relatively young country striving to find its identity.
Perhaps this moment is simply the death throes of an aging generation with myopic and racist views. Or perhaps it's the underlying character of the country. A place where individual goals are blind to the environment, other people, or other basic considerations.
I continue to do a lot of work in the US. We have a lot of friends and family in the US. But, as Marche writes, it does feel as though the bubble has burst. And I worry for what that means for all of us going forward.