Today in 1965, Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” was released. Other than the run-on nature of the lyrics, the song was one of the first to have an accompanying “promo film,” now known as a “music video”:
Today in 1971, Radio Hanoi played the Star Spangled Banner, presumably not as a compliment:
Today in 1973, Paul McCartney was fined £100 for growing marijuana at his farm in Campbelltown, Scotland.
McCartney’s excuse was that he didn’t know the seeds he claimed to have been given would actually grow.
The Grammy Awards premiered today in 1959. The Record of the Year came from a TV series:
Today in 1966, John Lennon demonstrated the ability to get publicity, if not positive publicity, when the London Evening Standard printed a story in which Lennon said:
Christianity will go. It will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue with that; I’m right and I will be proved right. We’re more popular than Jesus now; I don’t know which will go first — rock and roll or Christianity. Jesus was all right, but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It’s them twisting it that ruins it for me.
Lennon’s comment prompted Bible Belt protests, including burning Beatles records. Of course, as the band pointed out, to burn Beatles records requires purchasing them first.
The number one single today in 1967:
Today in 1973, Pink Floyd began its 19-date North American tour at the Dane County Coliseum in Madison.
Today in 1966, Neil Young, Stephen Stills and Richie Furay formed the Buffalo Springfield.
The number one British single today in 1967:
Today in 1971, the South African Broadcasting Corp. lifted its ban on broadcasting the Beatles.
Perhaps SABC felt safe given that the Beatles had broken up one year earlier. (SABC was South Africa’s radio broadcaster, by the way. TV didn’t get to South Africa until 1976.)
Earlier this month the CDC released the results of its Youth Risk Behavior Survey of American teenagers. The findings have been much discussed, with the focus largely and understandably on the fact that teenage girls are suffering from extraordinarily high levels of sadness and depression. But I think the conversation has overlooked a few things.
One possible culprit for this widespread sadness is that social media apps are especially damaging to girls’ psychological health, a thesis long championed by Jonathan Haidt. And even though on its face Haidt’s point seems left-wing (new technology has downside risks and big companies need to be regulated more), the idea has taken on a mostly right-wing inflection, with Josh Hawley as its most vocal champion in the Senate.
Social media is good at generating polarization, and some of the left-inflected pushback has essentially argued that maybe teens aren’t depressed because of phones but because, in Taylor Lorenz’s words, “we’re living in a late stage capitalist hellscape during an ongoing deadly pandemic w record wealth inequality, 0 social safety net/job security, as climate change cooks the world.” Noah Smith and Eric Levitz both wrote good articles questioning the veracity of that doomer narrative, and Michelle Goldberg did an excellent piece trying to reframe the issue, arguing correctly that “the idea that unaccountable corporate behemoths are harming kids with their products shouldn’t be a hard one for liberals to accept, even if figures like Hawley believe it as well.”1
But I want to talk about something Goldberg mentions but doesn’t focus on: a 2021 paper by Catherine Gimbrone, Lisa Bates, Seth Prins, and Katherine Keyes titled “The politics of depression: Diverging trends in internalizing symptoms among US adolescents by political beliefs.” The CDC survey doesn’t ask teens about their political beliefs, but Gimbrone et. al. find not only divergence by gender, but divergence by political ideology. Breaking things down by gender and ideology, they find that liberal girls have the highest increase in depressive affect and conservative boys have the least. But liberal boys are more depressed than conservative girls, suggesting an important independent role for political ideology.
I think the discussion around gender and the role of social media is an important one. But I also don’t believe that liberal boys are experiencing more depression than conservative girls because they are disproportionately hung up on Instagram-induced body image issues — I think there’s also something specific to politics going on.
Some of it might be selection effect, with progressive politics becoming a more congenial home for people who are miserable. But I think some of it is poor behavior by adult progressives, many of whom now valorize depressive affect as a sign of political commitment. The thing about depression, though, is that it’s bad. Separate from the Smith/Levitz project of arguing about recent political trends, I think we need some kind of society-level cognitive behavioral therapy to convince people that whatever it is they are worried about, depression is not the answer. Because it never is.
Three of the politics of depression paper’s authors are also co-authors on a newer paper arguing that “as efforts to increase policing and roll back criminal legal system reforms in major U.S. cities rise, the collateral consequences of increased criminalization remain critical to document” and looking at the idea that “criminalization may contribute to racial disparities in mental health.” Like most academics, they seem to be quite left-wing. If there were more Republicans working as professors, we’d probably balance out this line of inquiry with papers asking whether rising levels of shootings and homicides also contribute to racial disparities in mental health.2 But there aren’t. So even when all the research being done is good, we primarily see research looking at the questions that progressives think are interesting.
In keeping with that, the politics of depression authors seem very interested in the idea that liberal teens are depressed because they correctly perceive injustice in the world:
Adolescents in the 2010s endured a series of significant political events that may have influenced their mental health. The first Black president, Democrat Barack Obama, was elected to office in 2008, during which time the Great Recession crippled the US economy (Mukunda 2018), widened income inequality (Kochhar & Fry 2014) and exacerbated the student debt crisis (Stiglitz 2013). The following year, Republicans took control of the Congress and then, in 2014, of the Senate. Just two years later, Republican Donald Trump was elected to office, appointing a conservative supreme court and deeply polarizing the nation through erratic leadership (Abeshouse 2019). Throughout this period, war, climate change (O’Brien, Selboe, & Hawyard 2019), school shootings (Witt 2019), structural racism (Worland 2020), police violence against Black people (Obasogie 2020), pervasive sexism and sexual assault (Morrison-Beedy & Grove 2019), and rampant socioeconomic inequality (Kochhar & Cilluffo 2019) became unavoidable features of political discourse. In response, youth movements promoting direct action and political change emerged in the face of inaction by policymakers to address critical issues (Fisher & Nasrin 2021, Haenschen & Tedesco 2020). Liberal adolescents may have therefore experienced alienation within a growing conservative political climate such that their mental health suffered in comparison to that of their conservative peers whose hegemonic views were flourishing.
I’m not saying any of those particular points are wrong. But if these Columbia epidemiologists walked down the street to talk to Columbia economist Richard Clarida, I wonder how he would characterize political trends over the last 20 years. Clarida was Assistant Secretary of Treasury for Economic Policy under George W. Bush, and in terms of the big political fights of the mid-Bush years — the Iraq War, gay marriage, Social Security privatization — liberals totally ran the table. The collapse in political support for Bush-style free trade policies has been so complete that hardly anyone even remembers that’s what the conservative view was.
So is it really true that in some objective sense, conservative views are flourishing and hegemonic?
It’s really hard to definitely prove that one side or the other is “winning” the game of American politics. The answer depends on how you weigh different topics, and people often shift their views on the relative importance of things depending on the context. What I think is most relevant from a mental health perspective is that like most things in life, politics is a bit of a mixed bag that could be looked at in different ways.
The catalog of woes offered in the paper sounds less to me like a causal explanation of why progressive teens have more depressive affect than it does like listening to a depressed liberal give an account of recent American politics. Note for example the negative framing of the fact that progressives have used their agenda-setting power to make structural racism, pervasive sexism, and rampant socioeconomic inequality into unavoidable features of political discourse. One could instead say this is what the path to victory looks like — progressive activists and intellectuals have succeeded in getting more people to pay attention to what they think are the most important problems.
Mentally processing ambiguous events with a negative spin is just what depression is. And while the finding that liberals are disproportionately likely to do it is interesting and important, it’s not sound practice to celebrate that or tell them that they are right to do it.
I have at times in my life struggled seriously with depression. I’ve been on antidepressants, I’ve tried trans-cranial magnetic stimulation, I’ve seen therapists. I also, separately, did therapy for anger management. But I’ve been feeling good for the past few years, and one thing that strikes me about this discourse is how much the heavily political treatments of depression diverge from the practices they try to teach you in therapy.
For example, it’s important to reframe your emotional response as something that’s under your control:
Stop saying “so-and-so made me angry by doing X.”
Instead say “so-and-so did X, and I reacted by becoming angry.”
And the question you then ask yourself is whether becoming angry made things better? Did it solve the problem? Did the ensuing situation make you happier? The point isn’t that nobody should ever feel anger or that anger is never an appropriate reaction to a situation. But some of us have a bad habit of becoming angry in ways that makes our lives worse, and we should try not to do that.
Depression can be a particularly thorny problem because, as Scott Alexander writes in an excellent post, the nature of being depressed is that you become unduly pessimistic about the possibility of changing things:
But I will say this from having worked with many patients in similar situations — they are usually surprised by how much of their depression goes away after they get out of the situation. And more important, they usually overestimate how hard it would be to get out of the situation — remember, depressed people are pessimists, so the person who’s depressed because of their terrible job will naturally think they could never get another job, or that all jobs would be equally bad. Please, please, please don’t let your depressive bias keep you in your depressing situation.
Life is complicated, and this is difficult. But for a very wide range of problems, part of helping people get out of their trap is teaching them not to catastrophize. People who are paralyzed by anxiety or depression or who are lashing out with rage aren’t usually totally untethered from reality. They are worried or sad or angry about real things. But instead of changing the things they can change and seeking the grace to accept the things they can’t, they’re dwelling unproductively as problems fester.
Jill Filipovic wrote a good post a couple of weeks ago about students at Macalester College trying to block an exhibition by an Iranian-American artist named Taravat Talepasand. This incident is part of a pattern of left-wing social justice concepts being invoked to support right-wing religious sentiments held by minority religious groups and ending up in conflict with western feminists. I heard the late great Susan Moller Okin lecture on her book “Is Multiculturalism Bad for Women?” over 20 years ago, and Filipovic is essentially writing about a new iteration of what Okin was worried about in the 90s.
But Filipovic zooms out to a larger point that I think was only embryonic in the 90s, which is that progressive institutional leaders have specifically taught young progressives that catastrophizing is a good way to get what they want:
I am increasingly convinced that there are tremendously negative long-term consequences, especially to young people, coming from this reliance on the language of harm and accusations that things one finds offensive are “deeply problematic” or event violent. Just about everything researchers understand about resilience and mental well-being suggests that people who feel like they are the chief architects of their own life — to mix metaphors, that they captain their own ship, not that they are simply being tossed around by an uncontrollable ocean — are vastly better off than people whose default position is victimization, hurt, and a sense that life simply happens to them and they have no control over their response. That isn’t to say that people who experience victimization or trauma should just muscle through it, or that any individual can bootstraps their way into wellbeing. It is to say, though, that in some circumstances, it is a choice to process feelings of discomfort or even offense through the language of deep emotional, spiritual, or even physical wound, and choosing to do so may make you worse off. Leaning into the language of “harm” creates and reinforces feelings of harm, and while using that language may give a person some short-term power in progressive spaces, it’s pretty bad for most people’s long-term ability to regulate their emotions, to manage inevitable adversity, and to navigate a complicated world.
I thought about this again when I read a Wall Street Journal report about Stanford’s system for Protected Identity Harm Reporting. A lot of the specific controversy on campus is about free speech and the processing problems inherent in any kind of anonymous complaint system. But to Filipovic’s point, there’s a larger dysfunction in this conceptualization of “harms.”
There is an old phrase attributed to Winston Churchill that if you are not a liberal at 20 you have no heart, but if you are not a conservative at 40 you have no brain. Perhaps young progressives get depressed not by the state of the world (which will always be flawed because of humans) but when they start to realize that what they think is true is not.
What is known as “liberalism” or progressivism today is guaranteed to make its believers unhappy. It requires that they believe things that are false — for instance, that every member of a particular group is the same (i.e. all white conservative men are racists, and all members of minority groups are victims). Liberalism also appeals to emotion, whereas conservatism should (but doesn’t always; see Trump, Donald) appeal to facts and reason.
The thing about young political idealism — actually young idealism of any sort — is that it lacks knowledge and therefore wisdom. That is not to say that older people are smarter. But one of the most important aspects of growing older is learning perspective, as in your ability to change things being in direct proportion with how close something is to you.
Today in 1964, the Beatles began filming “A Hard Day’s Night,” and George Harrison met Patti Boyd, who had one line in the movie.
Boyd later would become the subject of an Eric Clapton song (in fast and slow versions), and then Clapton’s wife, and then Clapton’s ex-wife, while inspiring enough songs, between Harrison and Clapton, for an entire album.
People are aware of America’s infamous political polarization and the seepage of strange partisan and ideological outlooks into every aspect of modern life. Perhaps less well understood, the increase in seemingly irresolvable partisan conflicts also coincides with a total collapse in public trust of objective news reporting among most Americans and a steep increase in the number of Americans checking out from national news altogether.
The Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism and YouGov released a fascinating study last year examining news consumption and media habits across the world based on interviews with 93,000 people in 46 markets on 6 continents. This impressive study provides a wealth of comparative data across different national contexts and political environments.
Two findings from the 2000+ sample of citizens in the United States really stand out:
Only 26 percent of Americans express general trust in the news—tied for the lowest level of trust in the world along with the citizens of Slovakia. The survey asked respondents whether they agree or disagree with the following statement: “I think you can trust most news most of the time.” As the report authors note (and as seen in the charts below):
Trust in the news has fallen in almost half the countries in our survey, and risen in just seven, partly reversing the gains made at the height of the Coronavirus pandemic. On average, around four in ten of our total sample (42 percent) say they trust most news most of the time. Finland remains the country with the highest levels of overall trust (69 percent), while news trust in the USA has fallen by a further three percentage points and remains the lowest (26 percent) in our survey.
Likewise, Americans’ trust in the news that people use themselves, rather than more generally, only hits 41 percent—not exactly a ringing endorsement.
The political divides in news trust within America are also stark. For example, nearly three times as many Americans on the political left as on the political right say they trust the news most of the time—39 percent vs. 14 percent, respectively. In comparison, there is almost no ideological divide in a country such as Finland where around 7 in 10 people on both the political left and the right say they trust the news most of the time.
More than 4 in 10 Americans say they limit ne consumption or avoid it altogether. The Reuters Institute report authors call this behavior “selective news avoidance” and find that it has more than doubled in politically divided countries such as Brazil and the U.K. since 2017. In America, 42 percent of citizens say they limit or actively avoid consuming any news—a 4-point increase over the same 5 year period.
Notably, as seen in the graphic above, across all markets included in the survey the primary reason given by people for avoidance is that there is too much in the news about politics and COVID-19, cited by 43 percent of news avoiders globally. Other reasons for avoidance include people saying the news has a negative effect on their mood (36 percent) or that they are just plain worn out by the news (29 percent). Around 3 in 10 avoiders globally also refuse to consume the news because they believe it is untrustworthy or biased while just under 1 in 5 say it either leads to arguments they’d rather avoid or that there’s nothing they can do with the information in the news.
Combined, these findings show that America is nearly alone in the world in terms of the unwillingness of its citizens to either trust or rely on the news within any kind of consensus framework. Americans simply can’t agree on what is happening in their own country, let alone settle on a few common objective facts for evaluating what’s important and what should be done about pressing economic and national security challenges.
Americans increasingly inhabit their own news bubbles—or don’t take in any news whatsoever—even as more and more people pipe off online and on social media with firm opinions about every development in life. Consequently, citizens know less about what is going on in the country overall and tend to only trust other people—journalists, politicians, or other citizens—who think and believe as they do. People have lots of divergent opinions about matters but no common facts to reference to defend these positions. Citizens also lack a few trustworthy media outlets and civil platforms for political debate to help air and resolve these differences without turning Americans against one another.
This self-selection in news consumption and avoidance of news altogether isn’t a recipe for long-term success for the American project.
Unfortunately, restoring trust in news is probably as difficult as restoring trust in government. But our media and political elites need to take these projects seriously and be far more conscious about what they say, how they say it, and where they say it. They need to be more tolerant of dissenting views, speak to people across media bubbles, and dive deeper into various explanations for what is going on with the economy, public health, or national security.
Trust between citizens, and trust in major media and governmental institutions, can only be rebuilt if everyone first agrees to four conditions: (1) Report and accept basic facts; (2) Be honest with people; (3) Acknowledge personal mistakes and good ideas coming from others; and (4) Stop freaking out over every minor political difference.
This is as surprising as discovering that water is wet. Too much of the news media blindly parrots whatever the government (any level of government) says and fails to be even skeptical of government claims. That became blatantly obvious during COVID, when the lab-leak theory was denigrated as racist (tell the Energy Department that), and the media failed to report that the COVID “vaccines” are really more like flu shots (you may still get COVID but you may not get as sick) than vaccines that prevent anything. According to the government experts anyone who didn’t get the COVID shot should be dead or permanently disabled, and that claim was as seriously evaluated as the side-effects of COVID shots.
Political “coverage,” if that’s what you want to call it, is even worse, with horse-race “reporting” (how is Biden doing today?) instead of, again, any kind of attempt to evaluate whether we’re being told anything close to the truth. (Except where Trump is concerned.)