The Downward Spiral Of Addiction

It is both tragic and fascinating to watch an addict destroy himself. It begins with an innocent and fun activity enjoyed by many as a temporary diversion from the trials of life. For the addict, however, the activity beckons like a siren song to escape from a deeper pain, a pain beyond the inconveniences endured with seeming aplomb by everyone else. As the addict shifts course away from the fleet and toward the sharp rocks where the sirens continue to beckon, his friends and acquaintances begin warning him of the impending danger. But this merely increases the addict's pain and the need to escape from it, so he tries to ignore those discordant voices behind him and focuses even more intently on the sweet doom lying ahead. Soon in deep denial, the addict accelerates forward and lashes out at anyone who dares to interfere. If they do not succeed in dissuading him, he crosses a point from which there is virtually no hope of return because the way back is far more painful than the way forward. To look back even for an instant would invite doubt, guilt, and self-hatred, all of which become even more terrifying to contemplate the longer the voyage continues. There is only one way back after that -- catastrophe so great that the way back is finally less painful.

I pause to mention this not only because I've seen it unfold, but also because it is unfolding on a national scale in modern America, a land peopled by addicts who are so deep in denial that they cannot allow themselves to contemplate for an instant the pain and horror that their addiction is causing. Early on it was fun to dabble in The New Deal and The Great Society on the puerile belief that government power could mitigate the effects of poverty and inequality. But those hobbies turned into obsessions that consumed us and destroyed our ability even to generate prosperity, like an emaciated heroin addict who believes that only more of the same crap can make everything right. The election cycle we just witnessed avoided any serious discussion of our unpayable debts, the illegal and endless wars we wage, the invasion of our land from abroad, the omnipresent regulatory state, the destruction of the middle class, or any of the other existential threats we face. No, everything was bathed in a glow of warm optimism and business as usual, with promises that the land of milk and honey can endure forever if we just iron out a few wrinkles. People like me who dare draw attention to the calamity are excoriated, for it is too painful for addicts to hear the truth. 

The only possible cure now is catastrophe, when the way back is less painful than the way forward -- if the individual or the nation can survive.