What’s so bad?

We humans love a good bit of misery. We note when bad luck befalls us, chronicle our ailments and often consider ourselves to be having a harder-than-average time of it all. The news and media constantly bombard us with stories of injustice, crime, health scares and why we are basically the worst country imaginable in every conceivable respect, and one only needs to spend a few minutes on any internet forum or discussion centre to find a thousand new and innovative reasons as to why you, and everything you stand for, is totally horrible and stupid and deserves to die. And/or that any faith in humanity you have is entirely misplaced.

However, optimists across the globe have pointed out that if the human race was actually as evil, despicable or otherwise useless a barrel of skunks as it often appears, we probably wouldn’t actually be around; or, at the very least, there certainly is nice and good stuff in this world that we humans are responsible for. So why are we so fixated on the bad? Why our attraction to misfortune? Are we all secretly schadenfreude junkies?

Part of the reason is of course traceable back to the simple fact that we humans are decidedly imperfect creatures, and that there is an awful lot of bad stuff in this world; these scare stories have to come from somewhere, after all. Take the two things that I feel most strongly about; climate change and slavery. In the two centuries since the industrial revolution, we have inflicted some catastrophic damage on our planet in the frankly rather shallow pursuit of profit and material wealth that always seem so far away; not only has this left vast scars of human neglect on many parts of our earth, but the constant pumping of pollutants into our atmosphere has sorely depleted our precious, irredeemable natural resources and is currently in the process of royally screwing with our global climate; it may be centuries before the turmoil calms down, and that’s assuming we ever manage to get our act together at all. On the other front, there are currently more slaves in existence today than at any other point in history (27 million, or roughly the combined population of Australia and New Zealand), a horrifying tribute to the sheer ruthlessness and disrespect of their fellow man of some people. The going rate of a slave today is 500 times less than it was in the days before William Wilberforce ended the Atlantic slave trade, at just $90, and this website allows you to calculate approximately how many slaves worldwide work to maintain your lifestyle. I got 40. I felt kinda sick.

However, as previously said there is also a fairly large quantity of awesome stuff in this world, so why doesn’t this seem to go as well-documented and studied as what’s going wrong. We never hear, for example, that X government department was really efficiently run this year, or that our road system is, on average, one of the best and safest in the world; it’s only ever the horror stories that get out.

Maybe it’s that we actively take pleasure in such pain; that we really do crave schadenfreude, or at the very least that negative feeling has a large emotional connotation. We use such emotion constantly in other situations after all; many films exploit or explore the world of the dark and horrifying in order to get under our skin and elicit a powerful emotional response, and music is often ‘designed’ to do the same thing. The emotions of hatred, of horror,  of loss, even fear, all elicit some primal response within us, and can create reciprocating emotions of catharsis, the sense of realisation and acceptance combined with a sense of purification of the soul. This emotion was the most sought-after feature of classical Greek tragedy, and required great influxes of negative emotion for it to work (hence why most theatre displays incorporated comedic satyrs to break the sheer monotony of depression); maybe we seek this sense of destructive satisfaction in our everyday lives too, revelling in the horror of the world because it makes us, in an almost perverse way, feel better about the world. And hey; I like a good mope now and again as much as the next man.

But to me, this isn’t the real reason, if only because it overlooks the most simple explanation; that bad stuff is interesting because it stands out. Humans are, in a surprising number of ways, like magpies, and we always get drawn to everything outside the norm. If it’s new, it’s unusual, so we find it intriguing and want to hear about it. Nowadays, we live a very sheltered existence in which an awful lot of stuff goes right for us, and the majority of experiences of life and other people fall into the decidedly ‘meh, OK’ category. Rarely are you ecstatic about the friendliness of the staff in your local newsagents, as most such people tend to be not much more than a means to the end; they are efficient and not horrible about allowing you to purchase something, as it should be. This is so commonplace, purely by virtue of being good business practice, that this is considered the norm, and it’s not as if there’s much they can do to elevate the experience and make it particularly enjoyable for you- but it’s far easier for them to be surly and unhelpful, making you note not to visit that shop again. This applies in countless other ways of life; the strictness of our national driving test means that the majority of people on any given road are going to behave in a predictable, safe fashion, meaning the guy who almost kills you pulling out onto the motorway sticks in your mind as an example of how standards are falling everywhere and the roads are hideously unsafe.

To me, the real proof of this theory is that we are capable of focusing on the good things in life too; when they too are somewhat dramatic and unusual. During last summer’s Olympics, an event that is unlikely to occur in Britain again in my lifetime, the news recorded various athletes’ medal success and the general awesomeness of the event every evening and everyone seemed positively taken aback by how great the event was and how much everyone had got behind it; it was genuinely touching to see people enjoying themselves so much. But in our current society, always striving to improve itself, finding examples of things hitting well below par is far easier than finding stuff acting above and beyond the call of awesome.

Although admittedly being happy the whole time would be kinda tiring. And impractical

Death post Mk. II

I must begin this post with an apology- the topic of this blog is again going dark. I know that the last time I touched on this is was both a) rubbish and b) weird, but this is something I feel like I need to get off my chest- this is about self-harm and suicide.
I have, in my life, thought of suicide once. And I mean once- I spent most of the rest of that day internally beating myself over the head, each thump made up of a reason as to just why it was such a stupid, horrible idea. But it happened. This was at the very depths of my depression- I was lonely, I was angry, and, worst of all, I had very little idea about how to get out, or exactly what was going on. In hindsight I hadn’t been thinking it through properly, but I’m wandering off-topic.
In Britain, around five and a half thousand people commit suicide every year, although I recently saw another statistic that suggested less than one in seven people with suicidal intent ever go on to kill themselves. The human race has a base instinct for self -preservation, and many people, even though they may question their worth, their value, their purpose, will find it near-impossible to get up the courage to kill themselves. This is in fact a major cause of self-harm; people who want to (to some degree) commit suicide, and may even half-attempt to, but who find themselves unable to go all the way, ending up merely inflicting damage. However this is far from the only reason- two other particularly common ones are an almost self-indulgent sense of revelling in one’s own suffering, similar to what I discussed in last week’s post about depression, and as a kind of plea for help.
I have refrained from calling the latter ‘attention-seeking’, because it demeans the level of pain the sufferer is experiencing. Mental health issues, depression and unhappiness can slaughter a soul (as, again, I have posted previously), and the level to which a human being must descend to contemplate harming themselves, or considering killing themselves, is a truly horrible thing. There may be a tendency among people to classify the above two reasons for self-harm as ‘selfish’ or ‘stupid’, but this is just plain wrong. The ideas themselves are illogical, yes, to a rational, non-depressed brain. To someone who feels that they have no way out and are in a state of despair, it can seem almost natural. If someone, anyone you know, ever self-harms or thinks of doing so, then that is the time to put your life to one side, for it is time to help save another.
Self-harm is one thing- suicide is an entirely different kettle of fish. I have already spoken about the depravity of murder, and its impact, and the impact of suicide is the same if not worse. Suicide deprives families of siblings, parents and children, couples of partners, social circles of friends. It leaves a gap in the world. Then there is the impact for those in the immediate vicinity- the train driver who saw someone jump on the line, the hotel maid who found someone in the bath with slashed wrists, the person who the building-jumper landed next to. The trauma of events like that will live with people for the rest of their lives.
But, this stuff is what potential suicides know- rationally anyway, as this stuff can be very difficult for the soul to comprehend. So, instead of listing more incoherent ramblings, I am going to explain why I have never seriously thought of suicide, and why I live how I do. I hope it can help you too.

Throughout my life, I have always been willing to fight and work as hard as I can to be the best I can be, and live my life to its fullest. Why? Well, because the core tenet of my belief is that life is something with potential- endless potential. No matter how much crap life throws in your face, there is a way for you to battle on through it and make of life what you will, what you can. This is something that many people find hard to believe, or in the case of some who I know, simply refuse to. This is where I draw on my inspiration. People have had to fight far harder, against far steeper odds than me, in the pursuit of goals far loftier and more inaccessible than my own, and they have triumphed. Think Nelson Mandela- born in a Xhosa village in a country where racism was ingrained into the psyche and law, he spent his entire life fighting for his people’s equality. After spending over a quarter of his life in an island prison, he not only served as President for 5 years and won a Nobel Peace Prize, but now is one of the most internationally recognised and respected men on Earth (and incidentally my all-time hero). Think  William Kamkwamba, a Malawian teenager who, after being forced to drop out of school when a famine slashed his family’s income, used knowledge gained from a children’s library book to harness wind power and provide electricity to his village. He is now on a scholarship in South Africa and has delivered speeches to packed audiences across the world. Stephen Hawking was diagnosed with motor neurone disease 50 years ago, a disease that would render him almost totally paralysed, unable to move or speak, and was given just months to live. He is now 70, a giant in the field of theoretical physics, the most advanced science of the modern age, and is publicly acclaimed as one of the most intelligent people on earth. I could go on. No matter how low your life gets, it is never, no matter the situation, impossible to turn things around. That is what keeps me going. That is the mental state that has kept me firmly away from thoughts of suicide

As Thomas Jefferson once wrote, it is an “unalienable truth” that every human is entitled to the rights of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. Rights, the first and last especially, that everybody should exercise.