I Shouldn't Be Ashamed....

Football season for my college alma mater is mercifully over. They finished with two wins and ten losses, including a defeat by a then 0 and 8 team. It is one of the worst performances in school history. They fired the head coach mid season. The fact that this happened, and that I am distraught by it, is a product of my own disproportionate emotional investment in what amounts to athletic entertainment, and the greater collective problems with universities, the media, and the money involved in all of it.

During my time at university, I had nothing to do with the athletic department, aside from attending football and basketball games as a student, back in the early 1980s. Since then, college sports has grown exponentially into an entertainment empire that is increasingly coveted by media conglomerates that continue to cannibalize each other, concentrating vast sums of money. It is now ESPN/ABC/Disney, FOX, CBS/Paramount, and, to a lesser degree, NBC, the CW, and other smaller networks, that are determining "winners" and "losers."

The media quest to cash in on college football began decades ago with the migration of games from free broadcast television to cable channels, namely ESPN. Ultimately, nearly all bowl games, BOWL games(!) became unavailable to any fans unwilling, or unable, to pay for ESPN. This model has continued with the recent playoff format and national championship.

As if that was not enough for the hungry media corporations, those companies drove conference realignment to create "superconferences" that make zero geographic sense, terminated some traditional rivalries, and completely abandoned at least two colleges. One of those universities left for dead was my own. The argument was that we respresent too small a "market" to attract viewers. I have been in a state of perpetual rage ever since. The schools that fled our once vibrant conference also attempted to abscond with all the money, forcing lawsuits by the two remaining schools to protect themselves financially. This is what I mean by the media choosing winners and losers.

Today, the media is obsessed with only two of the "power four" conferences: The Southeast Conference (SEC) and the Big Ten. The Big Twelve and the Atlantic Coast Conference (ACC) are only begrudgingly accorded recognition, persumably to avoid outright mutiny from those fanbases. The entire structure now guarantees that the Alabamas, Georgias, Ohio States, Notre Dames, Michigans, Oregons, and Oklahomas will always be at the top, or at least ranked, with little revenue left for any other programs to improve unless they have millionaire booster benefactors.

It gets better, or worse, depending on how robust the athletic budget of your school. Student athlete stars are now rightly demanding Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) compensation. Are the media giants stepping up to meet that new burden? Hell, no. It is left to each university's booster clubs to pay their own athletes. Once again, the schools with rich and powerful alumni and other benefactors, profit by being able to elevate the visibility of their athletes, and gain an enormous recruiting advantage, while every other university is left behind.

Now to even more important questions. How have we, as a society, let it come to this? Why do we allow our universities to be branded "winners" and "losers" based solety on the performance of their football and/or men's basketball teams? Why is the public face of higher learning one dimensional, equated with the school's mascot? Did I not receive a quality education? I would say so, especially given that I did not graduate from my state school, yet my current publisher is an Ivy League press. My alma mater did something right in my case. That is all that truly matters: how your education at the university level translates to advancement in your chosen career, even if that is not in professional team sports.

If we, as a society, were truly committed to fairness in college athletics, we might demand the following to help level the playing field:

• Institute a cap on booster/alumni contributions to athletic departments. Academic quality should be the overriding concern of universities, and capping donations for athletics would allow other departments to prosper.
• Require all universities, public and private, to join a conference. No more independents like Notre Dame, so that they cannot enter into their own individual contracts with broadcast media outlets, with the resulting unshared revenue.
• Put the burden of NIL on media outlets, and the agents of individual athletes, instead of picking winners according to the wealthiest universities with boosters that can afford the cost.
• Require any athlete entering the transfer portal from a ranked school, to sign with a lower-ranked, or unranked university. Spread the talent more equitably. Make it more difficult for talent to defect. Everyone should be making sacrifices in the name of increased parity.

The remaining two universities in my school's conference have entered into an agreement to rebuild the conference, poaching the better teams from the Mountain West Conference; but for at least the next two years there will still be only eight teams, guaranteeing that no conference champion will be granted an automatic playoff berth consideration. Terrible.

Why am I personally so dejected? This year, at least, I think I am so depressed by the state of humanity, and the planet, that I am looking for *any* example of justice, fairness, redemption, and reason for joy. I want the underdog to triumph, and to do so emphatically. I want the elites and bullies to be punished, demoralized, metaphorically eviscerated. I guess I look to sports for signs that an actual revolution of importance can happen. Who am I kidding?

The Impossibility of Money

It should be clear by now that our current monetary systems are failing us, or at least the vast majority of us. It has reached the point for me, personally, where I am questioning the very existence of currency, let alone how it behaves. As long as we accept the contemporary and historical paradigm, we are unlikely to generate positive change (and I’m not talking about coins).

I can’t get over the irony that money is called “currency,” evoking the word “current,” as in something that flows. That is not what happens in our economies. Currency gets backed up behind the dam(n) of capitalism, hoarded by a tiny minority.

Cryptocurrency was, to me, an off-putting concept from the beginning, but I only recently figured out why. While the idea of alternative forms of transactions is attractive, this is not the answer, for many reasons.

The currency of my livelihood is words, so I am disappointed in myself for not immediately recognizing the obvious. “Crypto” is Greek for “hidden,” as in cryptozoology, the study of sasquatch, the Loch Ness Monster, and related legends. Fascinating, but there is not widespread subscription to the idea, kind of like cryptocurrency. The last thing we need for our economy is more hidden currency. We already have offshore bank accounts and other tax havens. We need total transparency in matters of money.

The energy demands for running blockchain are another reason for concern. The server farms consume massive amounts of electricity for their operation. The same can be said for generative AI (Artificial Intelligence), and data mining, too. Such large server farms are also incredibly loud, running twenty-four hours, seven days a week, generating noise complaints along with Bitcoin.

Beyond the energy-intensive aspect, cryptocurrency has other shortcomings. It has yet to be widely accepted by retail businesses. It requires technology that is still inaccessible to many, by choice or by reliability of internet service providers. Don’t get me started on NFTs (Non-fungible Tokens). Lastly, there is understandable consumer skepticism over crypto’s validity, valuation, and sustainability.

The most attractive attribute of cryptocurrency might be the perception that it is somehow subversive, a way of undermining conventional capitalist models. It’s complex nature and dependence on technology ensure that it will likely remain the domain of a different, tech-savvy minority. Perhaps it is the “snob appeal” I am mistaking for subversion.

A truly viable alternative currency will have to come from the bottom up, designed for communities of all levels, from local to global. As it stands now, we have currency of an arbitrary value, determined by a select minority, and that is demonstrably unsustainable, at least in the environmental sense. There exists a different model that might serve as a template.

The currency of the natural world is energy. It has an absolute, invariable value. Can energy be hoarded? Not permanently, and certainly not generationally. Various organisms are able to store energy to use during hibernation, metamorphosis, and other stressful processes and circumstances. Otherwise, energy cycles freely, allowing the proper functioning of ecosystem transactions.

The challenge of emulating a natural model is to do so without the attendant predatory and parasitic forms of energy exchange. We have that in spades in the capitalist model, and the trend is toward exacerbating that pattern rather than nullifying it.

The true revolution in currency will have to be organic. The leadership for it will probably come from Indigenous peoples, provided we allow that, and can forge alliances with labor and consumer unions. Existing models for localized currencies might help inform such a movement. Promoting interest in, and subscription to, credit unions and cooperative businesses will only enhance the effort.

The incentives for promoting blockchain tech are still profit-driven, as opposed to even trying to balance the common good. I think I have more faith in the imagination of artists to take us in a positive direction here. Pair that brand of creativity with economic and social justice disciplines, and we might be able to get something truly equitable. Finally.

"Life Isn't Fair"

How do you feel when someone utters that phrase? Do you ever find yourself saying that? There is something about this simplistic statement that sticks in my craw, and maybe yours, too.

© Harvard Medicine Magazine

I put “life isn’t fair” into the same category as “thoughts and prayers.” It sounds dismissive, even if it is not intended that way. Such phrases are excuses for avoiding taking the energy and responsibility for tangible action to resolve the problem, tragedy, or injustice.

”Life isn’t fair” suggests that you accept this as a given fact of life, and that we should, also, so that we can “move on,” or “have closure,” or whatever else puts the ordeal out of your sight and out of your mind, as quickly as possible. It is about preserving your comfort.

In your defense, maybe dismissive language protects you from snowballing into anxiety and depression yourself, if you tend to dwell on the profound misery that so many people experience daily. Empaths are easily overwhelmed, I imagine, and self-care may demand keeping the problems of others at arm’s length.

Still, “life isn’t fair” is a statement that mostly discloses your privilege and entitlement because it reveals a situation or condition you rarely, if ever, face yourself, such as poverty, a shooting at a public school, or flooding from a hurricane because you have always been able to afford the higher ground. ”Get over it.” That might as well be what you exclaim, because those are the next logical words after “life isn’t fair.” Are you uncomfortable yet?

I have concluded that the sole purpose (and soul purpose) for my own existence is to make life more fair. I think that I have always believed that every species has a right to exist, whether it provides a direct service to humanity as a whole, or not. Other organisms are an endless source of wonder, fascination, and reverence for countless individual people, and that’s enough for me, enough for me to go on living, in fact.

It is only rather recently that I have come to see the depths of fear and loathing that we direct towards some members of our own species. We treat many artificial subsets of humanity worse than mammal vermin and insect pests. We call “those people” minorities, immigrants, and LGBTQ. An acronym, for God’s sake. That is what we are comfortable reducing human souls to.

Global humanity continues to persist, to operate semi-functionally, not because of government operations, nor economic cohesiveness, nor shared religious beliefs, but mostly despite those institutions. Some extremist politicians are wanting to write legislation further stripping basic rights from the most vulnerable of the world’s citizens. They are wanting life to be less fair for everyone but themselves.

By sheer coincidence, as I was writing this, a friend posted a meme on social media that listed other examples of “toxic positivity.” Most memes are overly simplistic, have a negative or even destructive agenda, are unhelpful, or outright wrong. To their credit, the creator of this meme matched common, dismissive phrases with more constructive and empathetic suggestions.

Toxic positivity is really a form of bullying, or at least condescension. It belittles genuine, appropriate emotions, and punishes vulnerability. It refuses to recognize suffering, let alone address it in any meaningful way. There is a reason we are able to cry, to experience emotional lows. It is not for the sake of comparing one degree of pain with another. It is not an opportunity to invoke your religious definition of God, and how He will provide. Sometimes the reason bad things happen is because bad people and bad socio-political institutions inflict trauma. Don’t add to it.

Toleration is not enough. Accept people’s ability to grieve, to cry, frown, or otherwise express difficult emotions. Reward it, in fact. Tell them you see them, seek to understand the depth of their situation, and simply be present for them. Ask if you can do anything beyond that. Check in again later.

If you are feeling extra-brave, start advocating for mental health. Help end the stigma surrounding depression and related illnesses. Stand up to toxic positivity, stoicism, and false bravado. We can build a better society if we stop saying “life isn’t fair.”