The years of positive thinking

The United States is emerging from eight years of mass hypnosis — years in which it was unpatriotic to question the assumptions of the Iraq war; years in which it was considered class warfare to question regressive tax policies; years in which it was a form of moral degeneration to call for diversity.

These were the Years of Positive Thinking, when ideas were tested against a standard of faith rather than reason, where questions were not just uncomfortable, they were unpatriotic.

We thought if we could just believe something hard enough, it would come true. If we just believed we could invade Iraq with 100,000 troops, then the Iraqi people would spontaneously rise to rebuild their country, thanking us with oil.

If we could just believe that the financial sector could police itself, then the economy could grow forever on credit.

If we could just believe hard enough, with enough bluster and conviction, that global warming was a myth, it would dissipate and go away. Anyone who questioned faith were demonized, ridiculed, even in some circumstances, boycotted.

And now we’re picking up the rubble in Baghdad, in Detroit, in rural Alaska.

This is what positive thinking does. It puts skepticism to sleep. And yet, some kind of positive thinking is always necessary. Nothing gets done without faith. Invention, innovation and progress all depend on faith. I am a poet. Before I write a poem, I have to argue down all of the rational doubt about the value of poetry — especially my own. To face that blank screen I have to muster up the same kind of stupid enthusiasm that just got us blindly flushed down an economic, military and environmental drainpipe.

How do I know that my faith is any better than George Bush’s ideological faith? What’s the difference between the faith that writes a poem where there is no poem and the faith that says, we can build this world on fantasies, budget-line by budget-line?

All good things depend upon faith — and all things evil. But here’s the difference: After I draft a poem, I set it aside until I can see beyond enthusiasm. Then, looking at the poem cold I discover its problems and I work to correct them. Maybe I had chosen a word because it sounded right, even though it didn’t mean what I wanted it to mean. That’s when adjustments have to be made. Where at one point, doubt would have been deadly, now the enemy is enthusiasm. Creativity depends upon a cycle of faith and doubt.

Time after time, George Bush and his administration refused to look at his policies in the cold light of reason. Time after time, an echo chamber in the media encouraged him to do so. George Bush — and the people who supported him — left out the doubt.

David Cheezem , an independent business owner, lives in Palmer.