We’re all familiar with the “fight or flight” concept: Our early ancestors, when faced with danger, instinctively either fled or fought that danger, depending on the situation. It’s easy to think that we’ve somehow outgrown those instinctive impulses. We’re more civilized, and life is less perilous for most of us than it was back then.
Although I think of myself as a cerebral guy, I can say from personal experience that the genetic instinct remains—red flags that flash before the danger becomes consciously evident. An instant at Canyon de Chelly twenty years ago, during a pleasant conversation with a resident, when genetic flags flashed and I found myself mounting my bike and leaving, only to learn afterward the danger I had been in. The many muggings that had been reported to the Park Service.
But there’s a more subtle version of this “fight or flight” instinct that we need to be aware of right now. The twin emotional responses to tyranny.
One is the impulse to resist. To speak out. To picket. To march in frog costumes. To call bullshit on abusive authority.
The other is an impulse to avoid it. To acquiesce to its every advance, perpetually yielding moral ground. Or worse, to join it, in hopes that its skirts will protect you.
That second impulse is cowardice. “Let’s not talk about it.” “I have a right to my opinion and you have a right to yours.” “Let’s agree to disagree.” “All politicians lie.” “Who can know what’s true and what isn’t.” “Don’t let ‘politics’ come before family and friends.”
Let me say it again: That second impulse is cowardice.
And the only way I can think of to fight that complacent lethargy is to shame it. To call it the spineless chickenshit it really is.