“Do you already know that your existence--who and how you are--is in and of itself a contribution to the people and place around you? Not after or because you do some particular thing, but simply the miracle of your life. And that the people around you, and the place(s), have contributions as well? Do you understand that your quality of life and your survival are tied to how authentic and generous the connections are between you and the people and place you live with and in? Are you actively practicing generosity and vulnerability in order to make the connections between you and others clear, open, available, durable?
Generosity here means giving of what you have without strings or expectations attached. Vulnerability means showing your needs.”
-Adrienne Maree Brown, Emergent Strategy
I think about this quote a lot, because a wildly differing construct of contribution is a deeply embedded aspect of how we view ourselves and one-another within variously nested social systems. You know, those ones we both occupy and are occupied by—the socio-sytemic relational matrix that Habermas would call our colonized lifeworld and Bourdeiu would refer to as habitus, which is “structured and structuring”.
I am a deeply anxious person. Clinically and chronically, I suffer from anxiety, and much of it speaks at me in the language of worth or worthiness. It incessantly asks leading questions:
Am I contributing enough?
Am I earning my place?
What is my output?
How does it compare?
What impact am I actually having?
My worth feels always contingent on my contribution—not the one predicated on mere existence as Brown would have it—but a quantifiable calculation, often measured against simulated counterfactuals: What would another in my place offer? How would their existence produce, through forceful, assertive, creative action and production not merely presence and participation, but concrete, tangible, legible effect on the world?
This view of worth or value as contingent comes more clearly into focus when we define it against identity markers. As examples, I’ll explore my identity as a “man”, a “writer”, and a member of the U.S. Air Force.
I am, for it seems most intents and purposes, a “man”. Inside me, and inside most who perceive me, is a cultural construct of criteria for that identity:
A man’s quality or value (by cultural standards) is contingent on whether he:
- Is strong.
- Protects his family and their interests.
- Asserts truths which he knows.
- Pleases his spouse.
- Teaches his children.
- Builds.
- Endures hardship without complaint.
- etc… (we’ll leave the social dominance stuff out for the most part this time)
And those who, like me, see themselves through the cultural construct of maleness and find themselves falling short of legible efficacy within these and other criteria will experience psychic pain, emotional anguish, self-judgment, reinforced of course by the judgment of others. Belonging will be withheld. By cultural standards, a divorced man is a failed man. A sexually dysfunctional man is a failed man. A small or weak man is only partly a man. One whose wife leaves, or whose children get bad grades, do drugs, go to prison, or are emotionally stunted—he will feel and be perceived as a failed man. He whose projects fail, who knows less, who is introverted or passive or sickly or… in many ways I guess… a man like me… We are failed men. At least that is what we are consistently socialized to feel by the dominant social construct of maleness.
As compelling as I find the notion of aspirational qualities associated with identity-groups and their utility for group-level selection (see for example theories of how division of labor functioned as a social-evolutionary step), I think it should be apparent that what’s happening here goes well beyond that which would enable a healthy society (which we should probably distinguish from a merely growing society), but there are plenty who would argue otherwise—the kinds who like to pass around memes like this one, quoting G. Michael Hopf:
(Relevant side note: I once wrote, in a piece called The U.S. Military’s Incapacity for Positive Deviance, about the Khaldunian Cycle, or the sociological theories of Ibn Khaldun, which on their surface look like they may support this gender-norm-enforcing meme. I feel like my treatment might offer an alternative to the whole social value of manly manliness framing depicted in this quote/meme. Also Bret Devereaux addressed it nicely here. But let’s not get distracted….)
As a second example, I consider myself a writer. A writer isn’t just someone who has written previously… a writer writes, and therefore these long stretches of time where I find myself incapable of producing content™ make me feel… like… unworthy of the identity. Aesthetic judgment factors in heavily (as it does with judging maleness). So does response, opinion, reach, originality, prestige associated with types of publications, etc.
Oh you’re a blogger? Cute… When are you gonna write a BOOK?
And thirdly, I am an active member of the Air Force, which brings with it nested layers of identity—a military member, an Airman, a Senior NCO, an intel troop, a linguist, a “Futures Airman” by AFSC… I have already opined at length on how thoroughly we are sorted and labeled in the military, and how liberating and enabling I have found it to hold space for divergence from institutional reductionism.
Our division lead, Jen, recently shared Lorna Tedder’s lovely exploration of spoon theory as it relates to the workplace. Lorna was talking about difference in energy levels at work and mentioned how we often judge one another based on relative or perceived health/productivity. This one resonated hard, as someone who has struggled a lot recently with illness and fatigue, and Jen brought up how in the military, we’re taught to think of good health as a prerequisite for wearing the uniform. Falling behind is unacceptable. “Taking a knee” is heavily stigmatized, as much as leaders attempt to reverse that cultural construct in the domain of mental health. Tied to our identity are these criteria, like those listed above for maleness, and our inclusion in that identity, our ability to feel that we legitimately belong to it, is contingent on us hitting those marks.
Health/energy is not the first area in which I have reckoned with internal and external value-judgments on my worth/worthiness as a member of the Air Force. The example that stands out most starkly to me is what I faced for several years as I fought a 3-year unaccompanied assignment due to my daughter’s terminal illness. At that time, I frequently faced the notion that if you can’t simply do what you’re being told without question, you don’t belong in the military (Real Men in these circumstances must be limply subservient?). Those with families whose needs are too great don’t belong in the military. A person who prioritizes their family ever is a failed servicemember. The number of people who leave the military so they can care for their families is a subject worth exploring.
Every aspect of identity, embedded within what Bourdieu would call cultural field, contains such contingencies and value judgments, and I’d posit that many of them are bullshit, perpetuated most strongly by two factors:
People with the privilege/capacity to meet them most of the time act as social-enforcers and gatekeepers, which perpetuates their elevated status.
Selection mechanisms exist to ensure that those who can’t meet them will never make it into positions of power within which they might influence the reform of such norms or dismantle selection mechanisms which ensure their perpetuation.
So in response to Adrienne Maree Brown’s initial question…
“Do you already know that your existence--who and how you are--is in and of itself a contribution to the people and place around you? Not after or because you do some particular thing, but simply the miracle of your life.
No.
I don’t.
It is impossible to know such a thing while looking through institution-colored lenses—through zero-sum-colored lenses—through transactional/hierarchical/extractive-colored lenses.
Perhaps this is a reflection of the Left-Brain-Hemisphere-dominated world which Iain McGilchrist suggests we now occupy (I’m still making my way through “The Master and His Emissary”).
Brown makes it clear in her book “Emergent Strategy” that she casts off the aforementioned lenses to see the world in this light. There is work necessary to decolonize a lifeworld, to rebalance our ways of knowing and perceiving across what McGilchrist describes as a divided brain. To even imagine alternatives to the contingent view of worth proves a challenge. As Brown puts it, “Imagination is one of the spoils of colonization.”
Value-judgment as I’m describing it here is a sorting system, informed by a scarcity mindset which, as a functional mechanism, erects hierarchies within hierarchies to ensure that some are the have-nots. This is deemed a necessary condition to compel the haves and the want-to-haves to serve the system effectively enough to avoid demotion. And it does appear to work for the system in many cases. We are under serious duress to hide our weakness, endure all kinds of suffering, and maintain the appearance of conforming to that compliant, homogeneous, system-defined identity which makes us legible within our roles…
But then it also kinda really doesn’t work. What cost are we imposing on ourselves and others, and what means would we even have to answer such a question? How many people are miserable? How many are suffering silently? How many would actually thrive, freeing up energies and capacities dedicated currently to coping with pretending to fit the criteria? How many are simply faking all the markers of thriving because they feel perpetually at risk of being demoted or cast out in the next Great Sorting?
I pretend… constantly.
I calculate… everything—my needs to be authentically and openly and acceptedly what I am, be that divergent or fatigued or role-transcending or struggling with family crisis or whatever else my truth is… always calculated against what it could cost me to appear to deviate or dip below those criteria upon which my identities and roles are contingent. There is actual belonging at stake here. I mean… the number of servicemembers who forego medical and mental health care for decades at a time because they feel their livelihoods are at risk is staggering, but the contingent identity thing extends to emotional needs as well as material ones.
For many men, the only visible path to belonging is through conformity. We were taught from a young age that divergent outliers, those who show weakness or vulnerability or even just difference, are to have belonging withheld (at the very least).
I often think back to childhood, recess at school, where the boys would often gather for a rousing game of “smear the queer”…
Feels pretty bad.
I discovered I had these things to say after seeing the film “Dear Evan Hansen”, which I watched yesterday to sate a random hankering for Ben Platt’s angelic voice. I had avoided this film for years because I don’t like crying, and then felt validated when it very. much. made. me. cry. It’s a sweet film with magnificent musical numbers; but the most striking aspect to me was the underlying message, which I took to be:
The value of a human life is something inherent, acknowledged and offered generously by those who commit to stewarding connection, without strings or expectations attached, without being contingent on their impact on the world.
I might not have much company in this reading of the show, but who gives a shit.
Evan Hansen (Platt) is a bit of a monster throughout, though his monstrosity clearly originates in conditions beyond his control (mental health issues, traumatic childhood, perhaps some hints at neurodivergence). The character Connor, who dies by suicide, was also, clearly, a villain—an abuser and a bully. But the story takes us to this message that is probably most clearly articulated in the second-to-last song of the show, “So Big/So Small”, in which Evan’s mother Heidi reflects on her own trauma-entangled failures in the wake of being left by her son’s father:
And I knew there would be moments that I'd miss
And I knew
There would be space I couldn't fill
And I knew
I'd come up short a million different ways
And I did
And I do
And I will
In the song, we see her son’s trauma-response to the fateful incident:
That night, I tucked you into bed
I will never forget how you sat up and said
"Is there another truck coming to our driveway?
A truck that will take mommy away"
What Evan learned from being abandoned by his father is that connection and belonging, even with his own parents, is a tenuous and conditional thing, a perspective which he has clearly carried forward into adulthood—His monstrous behavior, lies, and fear of vulnerability are motivated by a desperate thirst for belonging and connection. He is suffering from connection-scarcity (oh hey wait McGilchrist talked about that too)
Heidi reassures her son that no matter what happens, “Your mom isn’t going anywhere”. She makes the bold declaration that yes she will be too small to face the bigness of what’s happening:
And the house felt so big,
and I felt so small
and I think it’s implied here that Evan, with his act of prolonged shittiness, is demonstrating an experience that is fundamentally human, being a person overwhelmed by circumstances, which will at times result in failures… maybe even moments of shocking monstrosity and hurtfulness. And there should or may be consequences, but consequence will never extend to or impact his inherent value and belonging. His belonging to her is not contingent on whether he happens to be big enough or good enough to not get pulled under or overwhelmed.
She will extend love and caring and belonging even when he fails. His life and he will be valuable by being valued no matter what he does.
By my reading, this is a story about unconditional love, the love we extend by seeing others existence as the source of their value, their contribution, not after or because they do some particular thing… and that’s why it made me think of the quote that I opened with.
Adrienne Maree Brown presents this orientation of connection as something we extend generously and enable through vulnerability. By her framing this is not just a nice thing we can do for one-another, it is a necessary condition for both quality-of-life and survival. Throughout “Emergent Strategy” she makes the case that authentic connection and thriving are prerequisite conditions for a truly functional socio-systemic approach to existing together in and with the complex world.
My recent struggles with meeting socialized criteria for belonging to certain identities—my health/energy issues, mental health difficulties, difficulty with writing, etc—have me thinking a lot about how even a life lived at “peak performance” will have its denouement.
A male body will break down with age sooner or later, and the occupant will be forced to reckon with their own judgment of maleness as it relates to physical condition.
A brilliant mind will deteriorate, starting the decline usually in middle-age, and it’s owner will be forced to reckon with judgment about one’s worth as relates to cognitive ability.
It is no wonder that we focus so heavily on the worth or worthiness of the elderly though focus on their past rather than their present.
It is also no wonder that male suicide rates are drastically higher over the age of 65.
I experienced the suicide of someone close to me very recently. He was one day older than me, and I can’t help but think that had he only known that his existence--who and how he was--was in and of itself a contribution to the people and place around him; not after or because he did some particular thing, but simply the miracle of his life…
Had he only known this, perhaps he could have weathered the storm.
And we can do better—generosity and vulnerability—to make sure that people like him know these things.
And though there is plenty of logic to support that such an approach would result in more effective institutions… I kinda think that shouldn’t matter.
Value is something we actively create in and extend to one-another as human beings, though institutions might have us convinced otherwise.
Love your writing, bro bro. Keep going.