Yes, but there are good examples too. Despite being chronically demoralised at the state of the world, I am literally only alive because there’s so many things that give me hope. It’s not the kind of hope that necessarily counters the dread I feel at all the awfulness, but rather something that stands alongside it, despite everything.
As a random example, I went to the Netherlands recently, and I was jazzed at the freedom conferred to me by the solid bike infrastructure. Being disabled, I’m more reliant on my car than most people, and I never feel so disabled as when I’m having to spend half an hour driving through a city when the walking route can be twice as fast. Riding a bike through Rotterdam felt so liberating, especially when I cycled to a shop that was due to close soon. I remember thinking “this must be what able bodies in a city people feel like — to be able to go somewhere free of the constraints of their car”
When I returned to the UK, it was pretty depressing to see how rubbish our bicycle infrastructure is in general. Though there are many smart and passionate people pushing for changes to civil infrastructure to facilitate pedestrian and cycling transit in cities, there’s so much inertia and fragmented implementation that it’s pretty depressing.
Recently, however, I visited a friend in Preston. Like many UK cities, the bike infrastructure was far from universal, but what I did see was really cool. Distinct bike lanes that are wholly separated from the road, just like the experts are always pushing for! Road markings and traffic signals that require car users to yield to cyclists. This stuck out to me especially because I was reading recently about how Preston city council has been doing a thing called “community wealth building”, which involves an investment strategy that prioritises local growth and infrastructure. So like, if there’s a new housing development that is being bid for, then local businesses and contractors would get priority on that. This strategy was, in large part, a response to the chronic underfunding of local authorities, which disproportionately affects the North of England, and other socioeconomically deprived areas. It’s only small, but it makes me hopeful because this is a concretely good idea that’s being implemented. It might not work out entirely as hoped, and even the best solutions to problems will inevitably present us with new problems, but that’s great — that’s how we learn!
That’s one example of my hope at a larger, systemic level, but I also find my resolve bolstered by countless good things at the personal or community level. Seeing how a local community activism group navigates complex governance problems and draws on past experience is another thing that makes me hopeful. A personal example is that I have faced so much strife due to the system letting me down, but when I have most been struggling, the kindness and solidarity of the people around me have helped immensely. Sometimes this kindness comes from people who are struggling just as much as me. Acts of individual kindness aren’t enough to fix a broken system, but they’re powerful in a different way, especially because they exist in spite of all the incentives towards being a selfish asshole that capitalism provides.
Our history is fixed, but the history of the future is still being written — by us. People who come after us will have countless examples of “what not to do”, but what keeps me going is the desire to give them as many examples of “what is good to do” as possible.
Yes, but there are good examples too. Despite being chronically demoralised at the state of the world, I am literally only alive because there’s so many things that give me hope. It’s not the kind of hope that necessarily counters the dread I feel at all the awfulness, but rather something that stands alongside it, despite everything.
As a random example, I went to the Netherlands recently, and I was jazzed at the freedom conferred to me by the solid bike infrastructure. Being disabled, I’m more reliant on my car than most people, and I never feel so disabled as when I’m having to spend half an hour driving through a city when the walking route can be twice as fast. Riding a bike through Rotterdam felt so liberating, especially when I cycled to a shop that was due to close soon. I remember thinking “this must be what able bodies in a city people feel like — to be able to go somewhere free of the constraints of their car”
When I returned to the UK, it was pretty depressing to see how rubbish our bicycle infrastructure is in general. Though there are many smart and passionate people pushing for changes to civil infrastructure to facilitate pedestrian and cycling transit in cities, there’s so much inertia and fragmented implementation that it’s pretty depressing.
Recently, however, I visited a friend in Preston. Like many UK cities, the bike infrastructure was far from universal, but what I did see was really cool. Distinct bike lanes that are wholly separated from the road, just like the experts are always pushing for! Road markings and traffic signals that require car users to yield to cyclists. This stuck out to me especially because I was reading recently about how Preston city council has been doing a thing called “community wealth building”, which involves an investment strategy that prioritises local growth and infrastructure. So like, if there’s a new housing development that is being bid for, then local businesses and contractors would get priority on that. This strategy was, in large part, a response to the chronic underfunding of local authorities, which disproportionately affects the North of England, and other socioeconomically deprived areas. It’s only small, but it makes me hopeful because this is a concretely good idea that’s being implemented. It might not work out entirely as hoped, and even the best solutions to problems will inevitably present us with new problems, but that’s great — that’s how we learn!
That’s one example of my hope at a larger, systemic level, but I also find my resolve bolstered by countless good things at the personal or community level. Seeing how a local community activism group navigates complex governance problems and draws on past experience is another thing that makes me hopeful. A personal example is that I have faced so much strife due to the system letting me down, but when I have most been struggling, the kindness and solidarity of the people around me have helped immensely. Sometimes this kindness comes from people who are struggling just as much as me. Acts of individual kindness aren’t enough to fix a broken system, but they’re powerful in a different way, especially because they exist in spite of all the incentives towards being a selfish asshole that capitalism provides.
Our history is fixed, but the history of the future is still being written — by us. People who come after us will have countless examples of “what not to do”, but what keeps me going is the desire to give them as many examples of “what is good to do” as possible.