“Cruz-Kasich alliance the latest GOP stunner,” read a Wall Street Journal headline yesterday.
(As I eyeballed that phrase, “Cruz-Kasich alliance,” I proceeded to perform an impromptu Earl Grey spit-take upon my beloved keyboard. My “+/=” button took a heavy blow and, alas, I now have yet another reason why I won’t switching into Pratt anytime soon.
A few months ago, we watched 17 Republican presidential candidates going at it like a fishbowl of bleeding piranhas. There was no chance of anything resembling traditional diplomacy, much less a mid-primary alliance and yet, here we are. Cruz and Kasich have made the reactive—and perhaps desperate—decision to double-team Donald Trump, who has been deemed so “unfavorable”—according to an AP poll, 69 percent of the nation views Trump negatively—that a sizable section of the American population will be reactively voting for the “not-Trump” candidate or, again reactively, not voting at all.
A reactive culture plagues us today. Not the kind that inspires readers and listeners to carefully consider news stories and opinion articles before responding thoughtfully and politely with the hope of furthering an intellectual discourse. Ours is the kind of reactivity that causes listeners to interrupt and readers to comment midway through the first paragraph or even just after glancing at the headline.
This kind of reactive culture is born out of a lack of humility from a generation of responders who are certain that they know more than the speaker, journalist, blogger or columnist at hand. And, as you might expect, a reactive response in a reactive culture inspires only more and more instantaneous reactive comments and actions, which inspire more of the same, and so it goes. An echo of an echo of an echo, until one forgets the original sound that initiated the process, and others give up on the notion of disrupting the echo with a new voice.
The reactivity chain thrives in communities where individuals compete to be heard no matter what it takes. The consequence of this kind of dialogue—if that’s what it can be called—is a failure to boldly propose new ideas, to courageously create new conversations or to creatively address the conversations or the crises.
And, indeed, we’ve got a crisis—not just the “anybody-but-Trump” voter reactivity, but more: climate change, Supreme Court vacancies, game-changing elections and an ever-escalating battle between the left and the right and the sideways. In a world evolving faster than ever before, both physically and ideologically, we are given opportunities for unparalleled complex and interesting dialogues, and yet, we’ve found ourselves in a reactive echo chamber. At a time when proactive thought might change a conversation, an election or even a movement, at a crucial moment in history… we’re a bit stuck.
Now, I have not come to this conclusion without some thought. It, ironically, comes out of a bit of reactivity of my own.
This semester, I have spent my Sunday through Wednesday nights, from 11 p.m. until 2 a.m., reading and editing each and every article that has graced the pages of The Chronicle’s opinion section, having been given the responsibility of approving them for publication. Yet what landed on me is less a sense of the writers’ points of view, and more of those of the readers whom we columnists are trying to reach.
At first, I found myself frustrated with the seeming lack of proactive stances and ideas emanating from our writers. But, during the late-night hours spent with each column, I realized that we at The Chronicle face the same phenomenon challenging the world today. With an increasing number of reactive readers commenting on articles and stories with lightning speed, untempered intensity and, at times, mind-numbing inaccuracy, columnists are themselves forced into a reactive mode. Too many in our community and our world prefer to react loudly and colorfully rather than proactively propose new ideas that might branch off to build a lasting conversation.
This creates a round of reactive columns, guest columns and letters to the editor. It has affected tone, writing style, subject matter and, in some cases, philosophical stances.
It would be easy to blame those who hold the pen, though we do bear some responsibility. We have the opportunity to proactively propose new conversations, new ways of thinking about the world and approaching issues; and once we have been subjected to the blender of comments, we have the opportunity to either remove ourselves from the concoction of reactivity or build upon a proactive response. We haven’t taken full advantage of our platform.
But such authorial behavior, at least over the year that I’ve been a part of the paper, has not often been rewarded with increased readership. People, it seems, like to read the things they are already reading about. And they prefer to have their opinions unlike the James Bond martini: barely stirred and certainly not shaken. Eager to reach the readership, to be relevant, to be buzz-worthy, we writers play the game, allowing the reactivity chain to run amok.
So where does that leave us as readers and as writers, as those prone to react and those who might, given the opportunity, “proact?” Where does this leave me, as next year’s Editorial Page Editor for The Chronicle?
Well, I’m going to try something. I’m going to strike my own “stunner” of an alliance.
To the fleet of fall columnists: I ask that you dare to be proactive. Use your respective columns to create stimulating, informative conversations that will truly affect those who read them. That might be built upon, or broken down, by the very readers who make The Chronicle such a potent publication. You’ve been given the chance to guide campus conversation and action; take it.
And to our readers: I ask that you dare to be proactive, too. Read a column, and don’t merely react. Take it in and respond, and give others the chance to work with you, or even oppose you. And if you find something that is worthy or meaningful to you, take the truly proactive step of incorporating its philosophy, its conversation or its proposal into your own work.
We’ll start a chain of proactivity, shaken and stirred.
I have a lot more faith in the fruits of this alliance than those of the Cruz-Kasich clusterf--k.)
Jackson Prince is a Trinity freshman and next year’s editorial page editor. This is his final column of the semester.
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