Welcome to The Critical Moment. Welcome to Cutting Through Political Materialism. This is my first post on this blog, and since I have a lot of explaining to do, it goes on a little long. But I promise the payoff is worth it.

So, I chose the name The Critical Moment for two reasons.

A Critical Moment in History

The first reason I chose this name is that it communicates that we are living in a critical moment, in the historical sense. Depending on who you talk to, the defining feature of our time could be the end of Neoliberal Globalization, the beginning of technofeudalism, the end of American hegemony, the beginning of multipolarity, the end of nature, the beginning of AI God, or any number of other cataclysmic, world-shaking, mind-boggling events.

Most of these things are gestures towards some real issue, and regardless of which one you care most about, you probably agree that your favorite issue won’t be solved until we give a new system a try. With every day that passes, events seem to validate this perspective.

If most people agree that we need to drastically reform (or completely reinvent) our political and economic system, what are we waiting for? Most left-wing policies poll incredibly well, especially on economic issues. Every day I hear people talk about revolution, although I hear a lot more about the need for a revolution than the plan for a revolution.

If our goals are popular, and many people seem to be on board, why has the left failed to organize the mass movement that everyone seems to be waiting for?

I think it comes down to two things: we on the left (especially online) spend a lot of time arguing with each other, and we on the left are resistant to letting our politics change us. That second point also very much influences the first. I’m not exactly sure what it would mean to let our politics change us, but I think developing some sort of contemplative practice and engaging in introspection is an important first step. But I’ll say more about that later.

A Critical Moment in Practice

The second reason I chose the name “Critical Moment” is because it describes something I have viscerally experienced since starting my meditation practice.

When you meditate for long enough, you learn how to pay attention to whatever moment you’re in without being bogged down by thoughts, symbols, abstractions, or ideas. You gain access to naked reality.

Once you’ve gotten a few glimpses of what this naked reality looks like, you get a little better at noticing the filters (the assumptions, habits of mind, and ideological lenses) that ‘help’ you make sense of the world. And you notice how easy it is to confuse real reality with the digestible version of reality you imagine in your head. Our thoughts about reality often feel more important—or more real—than our experience of reality.

For example, people who care deeply about the political and economic state of the world can often find themselves horrified by the news they read (or the videos of news on social media). You might find yourself reading a piece of horrible news, and you might become so involved in it that you imagine yourself in the situation being described or displayed. Then your heart is racing, and your palms are sweaty, and you begin to feel like you’re in danger. But you can’t look away, even if you want to, because your body is preparing to react to the danger you’re anticipating.

Our thoughts about reality often feel more important—or more real—than our experience of reality.

But if in that moment, you’re able to notice that you’re just thinking, and you check back in with real reality, you’ll notice something else. You’ll notice that you’re just sitting there, staring at your phone. You’ll realize that you’re reading an Instagram post that your algorithm served you because it knew you wouldn’t be able to look away. Feeling your body, and noticing your racing heart, you might remember that you’re currently drinking your third cup of coffee and should probably lay off. Then you can breathe intentionally for a while, drink some water to dilute the caffeine in your blood, and get on with your day with your mind intact.

To some people, “coming back to the moment” might sound like a way of avoiding engaging with political reality. The visceral experience of empathy that we feel when we read or watch a video about a horrible situation feels important. But so often that feeling can be paralyzing, exhausting, and terrifying. And feeling those emotions can make engaging with politics even more difficult.

While there are certainly people who use meditation as an escape, that is not the inevitable result of practice. If you’re committed to working towards liberation of all beings, meditation can help you be intentional about where you use your energy, where you place your attention, and what you give your time to.

Let’s go back to my example about getting lost in worry after reading an Instagram post (an experience I’ve had more times than I’d like to admit). People with this kind of relationship to staying informed will have to work even harder to be effective organizers, through no fault of their own. They will either turn away from political engagement to preserve their mental health, or they will force themselves to partake in the grim duty of activism until they finally burn out. Neither of these dynamics are helpful when our goal is to build a sustainable movement.

I don’t want to make it seem like I think every organizer is a mess. There are certainly people who are born with superhero personalities that make showing up for organizing work a breeze. Some people do struggle with it, and they’re just hard working or resilient enough to keep showing up. Thank God for these people.

My reason for emphasizing the power of mindfulness meditation is that we need movements that bring in as many people as possible. And if we’re going for sheer numbers, we must be able to teach and model skills and behaviors that help new people organize sustainably, especially when people’s anxieties, fears, and frustrations have stopped them from showing up in the past.

Letting Our Politics Change Us

So, why has the left failed to build a mass movement? Like I said before, I think the most important reason is that we struggle to let our politics change us.

The culture we were raised in has been shaped by Capitalism, for Capitalism. Many of us understand this on an intellectual level. We understand that the nuclear family was contrived as a way to create more consumers (because an intergenerational household shares far more resources than a nuclear family does with other familial nuclei). We understand that the nuclear, heteronormative family also gives the state an easier way to control people’s reproductive choices. We understand that there is an entire advertising industry built around trying to fill the spiritual vacuum in our daily lives by manipulating us into worshiping the Gods of money, fame, and consumption. We understand that industrial agriculture exploits migrants and produces artificially cheap food as a way to displace rural farm owners around the globe, and push people into cities where their labor can be exploited more profitably. We understand that cities are planned around improving real estate values and protecting wealthy enclaves from the unwashed masses, and that local governments often dedicate most of their time and resources to protecting property and wealth rather than taking care of their most vulnerable citizens. We understand that borders are fake, and most latine immigrants are more likely to be indigenous to this continent than any white nativist who wants to build a wall and superfund ICE. We understand that…

My fingers hurt. Anyways. We have developed our analysis. We have read so many books. We understand what’s wrong, and love to talk about it. But what are we going to do about it?

One of my least favorite phrases is there is no ethical consumption under Capitalism. I think a more accurate version, or a more useful version, would be there is no reciprocity under Capitalism. The former version seems like an excuse for continued participation in Capitalist society. The latter points to what we can build instead: a culture of reciprocity.

There is no reciprocity under Capitalism.

I’m of the opinion that building an alternative culture to the capitalist culture is more important than building a political party. I believe this because almost every successful political movement has been accompanied or preceded by a cultural movement. And we as a nation, as a hemisphere, have become culturally famished. What is the loneliness epidemic if not clear evidence of people’s burning desire for community, connection, and a culture they can participate in?

I am a big fan of Kim Stanley Robinson’s novels, especially the Mars trilogy. The series follows the first 100 people to build a scientific colony on Mars, as they go from doing basic research on the red planet to organizing a political revolution. One of my favorite parts of this meticulously researched work of political, economic, and scientific fiction is a scene where a group of revolutionaries are having dinner together, and they are pouring each other’s water.

I like this scene because it’s so small compared to the story it lives in, but it demonstrates something incredibly important: how simple acts can signal our commitment to building an alternative to oppressive systems, and how revolution starts with radically changing how we relate to each other.

One of the most exhausting parts of living in a Capitalist society is the fact that we are constantly asked to make moral compromises in order to participate in culture. And so much of what we consider to be “culture” is actually just a preference in methods of consumption. “What’s your favorite brand, band, show, car, flavor, etc.” This kind of culture feels hollow, it doesn’t really connect us to each other, but it’s what we’re used to. Participating in it is easier than building something new.

Planting the Seeds of Leftist Culture

I believe that meditation is the substrate within which our new culture can grow. Creating and participating in a new culture would require all of us to approach the project with open minds, which is something that a consistent meditation practice fosters in us.

Meditation is supposed to make you more compassionate, which is a defining feature of progressive politics according to this article from Nature. Meditation is also supposed to help you cultivate beginner’s mind—an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of bias when encountering new knowledge, or new experiences. Beginner’s mind can also be understood as a kind of intense curiosity, curiosity being the Yin to compassion’s Yang. When you have compassion for someone or something, you are more likely to be curious about (and pay attention to) their circumstances. When you’re curious about something or someone, it requires you to perceive them without judgement (i.e. with compassion) if you want to really learn something.

Meditation can make us more curious about each other, which will make us more compassionate towards each other, which will make us more open-minded with each other, which will make us better at listening to each other. Imagine what this kind of shift in attitudes would mean for leftist infighting, for coalition building, and for communicating our goals to the broader public? Imagine a left-wing movement that models stability, kindness, and respect, rather than modeling anger, self-righteousness, and insufferable debate obsession. It’s not that these feelings have no place on the left, it’s just that they’re not effective advertisements.

This is why I started The Critical Moment. I believe meditation practice will help us build the left’s culture, and I think a strong cultural movement will inevitably become a political one. People build successful political movements in community: in situations where they’re talking, sharing ideas, and making plans. I think a movement that feels like home is necessary to counter the alienation that runs rampant in society since the pandemic. Joining a movement should feel like an irresistible invitation, not a grim duty.

Capitalist culture wants us to keep pouring our own water. What would it mean to fill each other’s cups?