Infatuation with fatalism

This semester I took a course called adaptation to climate change. In it, we discussed how communities respond during disastrous events, how they may become more resilient in the aftermath, and general sentiments regarding environmentalism—which often include a kind of fatalistic outlook. Professors in the environmental studies department try not to appear “doom and gloom” about the state of the world and the rate in which we exploit our natural resources and destruct nature. Inevitably, one can become hung up on such attitudes in the environmental field, which one of my professor calls “an infatuation with fatalism.”

The explosion of zombies in our culture seems to reflect a societal scale of an infatuation with fatalism. As we’ve discussed in class, zombies serve as a metaphor for many things, including a fear of the unknown.   We’ve come to understand the many things and fears zombies represent, but we maybe, mostly don’t know why our society is hung-up on feelings of anxiety, fear, or the unknown.

I know I don’t know why we have the tendency for an infatuation with fatality, but I see this everywhere. I see this pessimistic, anxious mindset, ingested and regurgitated on the media and in my interactions with friends and coworkers. Our news headlines and front page text of magazines always consist of some kind of gruesome or disturbing one-liner that dramatically exacerbates the situation this news source has intended to inform us about. Broadcasters and news anchors who covered the Boston marathon tragedy ping-ponged questions such as, “do you think this attack was domestic or not?” back and forth another for hours, even though no one had a way of knowing yet. These questions and this anxiety everyone felt was framed as news; part of their job that day was to mirror our fear and anxieties, resulting in more general fear and paranoia amongst the masses.  

I see this collective, team-work effort of anxiety building among students at the library and coworkers. I always witness this interaction once during a visit to the library.  

“Hey I haven’t seen you in so long, what’s up?”

“Ugh studying for my exam/writing a _ page paper/ preparing for my_/working on a project that counts for _part of my grade…I’m so screwed”

“Aw man that sucks, I’m studying for my exam/writing a _ page paper/ preparing for my_/working on a project that counts for _part of my grade…shoot me now right?”

And then both people continue to go on and list each of their academic and personal responsibilities they have to accomplish, as if it was a contest. Whoever has the most tasks to fulfill wins. And for some people, this is a victory. They like seeming as if they’re the busiest or most accomplished. Because sometimes for them it feel smart, or important.

What this interaction also serves to do, is provide an outlet for anxiety. It’s a little backhanded though, because at the same time, it generates more anxiety. The person who does not win the “I have more going on in my life than you do” match now suddenly feels stressed out that they have all these things to do, but they’re still not the busiest or seemingly more important in comparison to those who lead similar lifestyles in which it makes sense to compete in this match with one another.  This in and of itself is not representative of an infatuation with fatality, but is born from the same place.