In November 2016, in the days after Trump won the election, I attended a tech conference in Portugal for founders and a few funders. It was extra, designed in praise of entrepreneurialism as a lifestyle. The attendees, who were mostly young men building software businesses, were celebrated as heroes. (They were people like this guy!) The event took place on the grounds of a five-star resort, and the high point was a party thrown in a castle. There were fire eaters and circus performers and I ate canapés from silver trays while shouting through the thumping music, “What is it you do!?” Among the many gifts we all received was a print of a barrel of petroleum.
The work is by an Irish conceptual artist named Kevin Abosch. That fall he was exhibiting a piece called “Impossible Promises.” It consisted of 100 painted oil barrels in the Millennium Park at the Bogotá Museum of Modern Art. His point was not subtle: A century earlier, petroleum offered the promise of every kind of opportunity. It was amazing! All these years later, we live with the unintended consequences of its introduction.
I think about this now as we all attempt to make meaning of the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. I won’t attempt here to share my personal devastation, or map my action plan for what happens next. Other people like Dahlia Lithwick and Glennon and Amanda Doyle are writing and speaking thoughtfully on this, and I’ve found myself without my own words, hanging on to theirs.
But I want to address a consequence I anticipate: we are in peril of losing collective trust in one of the most stable institutions in our country, the Supreme Court. This is what I think about right now when I wake up in the early hours of the morning, my mind spinning.
Democracy works because we all believe it does. The rule of law works because we believe there is a truth to the Constitution that goes beyond politics, and that reasonable, intelligent people who have sworn an oath to administer justice will, in good faith, do so. But here we are, facing a growing problem: many of use who are shattered by this decision feel that justice has not been served, that instead the Court has fallen victim to politics. This undermines the Court’s legitimacy, a point the three liberal justices made in their dissent.
Trust in institutions has been collapsing for as long as I’ve been writing about the internet. As I wrote for Backchannel in 2017, “This is a fundamental shift in American culture that the internet has kicked into overdrive.” Over that time, people have shifted their trust from institutions to individuals. In the earliest days of the web, this felt empowering. But individuals are fickle and shifty, and alarmingly unreliable as purveyors of stability.
With every year, we are watching the unintended consequences of the shift in power that the web enabled play out. The Edelman Trust Barometer has surveyed tens of thousands of people annually for more than two decades about their level of trust in business, media, government, and nongovermental organizations. This year’s results reveal “a world snared in a vicious cycle of distrust.”
Humanity will not thrive in a world governed by the shrillest voices. I crave the institutions of my youth, and my belief in them. According to 20th Century mores, even if, say, a President is corrupt, as in the case of Richard Nixon, the institution of the Presidency is held up. But there is no going backward here. So we must find new ways forward, new ways to broker trust, amass influence and shore up authority using the tools available to us. And we have a time limit: our most stable institutions are now in peril, and Democracy cannot persist in their absence. So what does the future look like? If you see it unfolding, in large ways or small, please flag it for me.
📘 Book news: The Family Outing
In all the time I’ve written, I’ve never collected my work on a dedicated site. But as the October 4 publication approaches, the time has come. The book has a website now. So, check it out, and if you feel compelled, pass it along to someone who might enjoy it.
And, the book’s first review has arrived. Publisher’s Weekly calls it “a deeply moving portrait of generational trauma and painstaking repair,” saying: “This interrogation of familial fissures and bonds radiates with empathy and grace.”
Pre-orders are incredibly helpful, so please think about picking up a copy. You can do that here!
🎙Things I’ve recorded:
Alan Henry spent years delivering productivity hacks to readers at Lifehacker. Then at his next job, he attempted to put them into practice—and discovered that most of them don’t work for people who are marginalized. Now a service editor at Wired, he shares what he has learned about the hacks—or let’s call them what they are, strategies—that have helped him get ahead in a system that was never designed for his success.
This is one of a few strong June episodes of Hello Monday. I also spoke with Cambrian Biopharma founder James Peyer about unconventional ideas. And I caught up with DJ DiDonna, founder of the Sabbatical Project. That last episode left me hungry for a long timeout. Check them all out here.
📚Things (mostly, but not entirely, about Roe) I’m reading:
Dahlia Lithwick on the impact of the fall of Roe
Peter Coy on how the politicization of the Supreme Court is eroding its legitimacy
Anne Helen Peterson on Roe v. Wade: Your State Will Not Save You
Jay Caspian Kang on the end of inevitable American Progress
Jia Tolentino writes that we’re not going back to the time before Roe. We’re going somewhere worse.
The Atlantic’s Derek Thompson on the end of the millennial lifestyle subsidy
Veteran Wikipedia editor Molly White is fast becoming cryptocurrency’s biggest critic
Charlie Warzel on the open secret of Google Search
🎙Post Script: Tig Notaro
Since I began writing this newsletter, I’ve had comedian Tig Notaro in the studio. It’s been a decade since the show that changed the trajectory of her career, the LA comedy set she began by announcing she had cancer. We talked about its impact, and how we aspire to make creative work that is authentic even in the more difficult moments of our lives. Also, we talked about Mississippi. A lot.