With every day that passes, I find myself liking the they/them wokies who want to have their breasts amputated and the vegan moms on bicycles more than I do the low status white males who think it’s all a hoax or China’s fault.
Why do people protest our government’s climate change policies? Nobody can seriously believe of course that his own actions will significantly change global temperatures.
On day one, you get the impression that people do this because it’s fun. It’s a party atmosphere and your friends are going. You also want to show the world you were there. People wander half naked. Of course there are also some who seem to think of activism as a kind of papal indulgence, to compensate their summer holiday in Thailand.
Day two is both better and worse. Worse because fewer people show up. Better because the quality of people is better. On day two the real motive becomes apparent: Mourning. We mourn the world we had. We mourn the world we could have had. We point out the indignities and atrocities people have already had imposed on them, as well as the deaths.
In essence, what I find here is what I would like to find in a church but can’t. People who don’t take life for granted. People who empathize with those who have suffering imposed on them. They receive no benefits from this. Their environment thinks of them as weirdos. But they are in a sense, the only medicine for my misanthropy. For a moment I don’t find myself hoping the whole planet is a depopulated by a virus.
Probably the most painful thing to see, are the drawings of the children. Eight, nine or ten year old children, who draw what they care about and what they think needs to happen. What should you do with a child? Do you leave a child in ignorant bliss? I’m not a parent, so I don’t have to make that decision.
But for me, to gaze at all these drawings makes me tear up. It is to be witness to a monument of human failure, which includes my own failures. A child should not have to draw an ice cream cone with a melting planet Earth. That means we failed as a society.
My natural sympathy has always been with the antisocial antiauthoritarian politically incorrect low status white males. Their main priority in life is generally to live with their own kind of people. They wish to live in communities where people look like them and speak their language and share their culture.
But the reality is also that generally speaking, these people have zero empathy for the people who live in developing countries and want the same thing. Indians living in a tribal village also want to live in their own small ethnically homogeneous community with their families, where they own the land and grow their own food. But as they suffer increasingly severe droughts, they are forced to migrate to the cities, becoming just another ethnic minority among many.
If low status white males were angry that people in India and Africa and other parts of the globe are losing their tribal homelands and forced to move to giant cities to perform unskilled labor, it would be easier for me to sympathize with their own desire to live among their own people.
I’m sure that plenty of elderly white people living as the last indigenous Europeans in multicultural neighborhoods where nobody speaks their language are miserable. I’d prefer for them to have what they had when they were young.
However, my empathy is always going to be preferentially reserved for those who show empathy themselves. Considering that almost all the people who complain about mass immigration, are unwilling to do what it takes to help address this problem that will lead to billions of people being forced to leave their homes, I can’t really find myself caring that much anymore.