It's All My Fault: How I Messed Up the World, and Why I Need Your Help to Fix It

by Jordan Phoenix

  Breaking out of the shell is a process. If you’re scared to take even a small step, find an even smaller one. Post something online anonymously, so that it’s not even like people are judging you. Practice your speech in front of two friends before you do it in front of 20 people. Every time there’s something I know I probably should do, but I’m afraid of it, I push myself to do it. I still remember the first time I had to go up to the stage and speak at a conference in front of 300 people -- it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever had to do. It was scarier than when I jumped out of an airplane. But when it was over, I felt like a different person. After something like that, the fear knob gets turned down in every other part of life. You think to yourself: If I can jump out of an airplane at 10,000 feet, if I can speak in front of hundreds of people, then why on earth would I be afraid to post some words on the internet from behind a computer?

  By facing and overcoming our fears, we can break free of some of the outdated social norms that no longer serve us, and discover a part of ourselves deep down that was always buried by a mere surface level definition of who we thought we were. There are many things we can tie our self-worth to in this life. It can be our looks, our possessions, our accomplishments, or something else. This feeling of worth -- the feeling that our lives have some sort of meaning or importance -- is an essential part of the desire to be alive. But what happens when our looks inevitably fade? What if our possessions are lost? What if our accomplishments don’t turn out as we’d hoped, or become stale and distant? When some or all of these external aspects of who we think we are fade away, we fall into an abyss. We go through extreme pain and suffering, questioning why this has happened to us, and question what -- if any -- value we still have left.

  When it all collapses in a heap of rubble, there is one thing – one core piece of bedrock – that gives us immeasurable value that can never be taken away from us. This is our ability to be of service to the world. No matter what you look like, no matter how many people have written you off, no matter how many times you’ve failed, what remains is the noblest of human pursuits: The ability to derive joy from lifting up others. And once we start doing that, we realize how little all of the fleeting possessions and accomplishments ever mattered. You free yourself from the constant stress and strain of holding so tightly onto a decomposing identity that would never have been able to make you feel completely whole in the first place; leaving you in constant fear that it would inevitably all fall apart one day.

  On the other hand, you can still enjoy the possessions and accomplishments for what they are; but they no longer define you, and you no longer need them. By actually detaching from them, you can finally discover the inner peace you’ve been searching for all along. The fear and pressure fades away. Things begin to slow down and become clear to you. You discover a deeper connection with life; an understanding of what really is important in our time here -- to utilize our greatest gifts to spread joy as far as it can possibly reach.

  7

  Why It’s All My Fault

  And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the main event. This is the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Over the last few chapters, I’ve described a cluster of large-scale interlocking problems that all seven billion plus of us intelligent beings on earth have been unable to solve thus far. I’ve described how we got here, the systematic and sociological tendencies that keep us in line, and the new issues that arise when we try to fix the existing problems. If you’ve been paying close attention, you may have observed the notable omission of two words from this book that have become almost synonymous with problems in the United States today (depending on who you’re speaking with): “Republicans” and “Democrats.” There is a very good reason for this; it’s because I don’t blame either of these groups. If I don’t blame either side, then whose fault is it? Who is there left to blame? I have a confession that I need to make to you right now, with all of the citizens of the world acting as witnesses:

  It’s all my fault.

  That’s right. I take full responsibility for everything that is wrong with the world in the present moment. If you were previously blaming an opposing political party, or the Jews, the Muslims, the Christians, the atheists, the white people, the black people, or the immigrants, I’m here to tell you that you’ve been misguided. It is none of their fault; it is completely mine. So please, if you are looking for someone to blame, I sincerely ask that from this point forward, you blame me. If you feel disappointment or fury -- if you feel deceived in some way -- please direct it towards me.

  It’s all my fault.

  It’s all my fault.

  It’s all my fault.

  It really does feel good to get that off my chest. It must feel good for you too; to finally be able to put a face to all that is wrong with our planet. Though I’m not really in a position to be making requests after telling this to you, I have one huge favor to ask before you begin to focus on blaming me. I want you to go seek out some of the other people who you were blaming before this. I want you to sit down and have a meal with them. While sitting across that table, I want you to shake hands with them, look them directly in the eyes, and tell them that you’re truly sorry. Tell them that you’re sorry for everything; that you had them all wrong. Tell them that your anger towards them was misguided, selfish, and shortsighted; and that from now on, you will do your absolute best to try to understand and work together with them. Ask them if they would please accept your apology, and please give you an opportunity to clarify any ideas or values you hold dear to you that they may not have a full grasp of. Be open. Let them ask questions. Diligently listen to what they have to say. Find out about the personal stories and experiences they’ve been through that have shaped who they are as people. Let go of the hatred.

  If you really do go through with this, you may discover something mind-blowing. Beneath all of the labels attached to race, nationality, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, and political affiliations, there is a human being sitting across from you that actually has a whole lot in common with you and the people you care about. They enjoy good food, they enjoy good music, they enjoy good sex, and they enjoy spending time with people who treat them with respect -- just like you. They have hopes, desires, dreams, fears, anxieties, and challenges -- just like you. They want to love, and they want to be loved -- just like you. I am positive that if you give it a real shot, you really can make friends with new people that have had completely different life experiences from your own.

  The importance of this act cannot be understated. When we gain the ability to befriend someone who we had stereotypically considered to be our enemies, we begin to break down the psychological barriers that impede constructive conversations and progress in our world. If you were to read a headline in the news that a violent revolution just broke out in a small country on the other side of the world, and you had several friends who lived there, this news story would suddenly take on added importance to you. Are they safe? Are their parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, and kids safe? Are they located near the epicenter of the violence, or are they far enough out of harm’s way? Is there anything you can do to help them?

  When we are able to relate to someone and actually connect with them, we cannot help but empathize with them. We’re so much less likely to write people off and hate them when they become human in front of our eyes. They’re no longer just a collection of statistics and stereotypes that we’ve heard about through the grapevine years ago. When we consider people to be friends of ours, we are more accepting of the fact that they have flaws (just like us), and know that this doesn’t have to be a reason to hate them. We want to utilize our knowledge and resources to help make their lives easier; and by doing so, often times they will want to do the same for us.

  It’s tragic how much hatred we can generate by overhearing about a story involving a negative experience, and then extrapolating that to represent a comprehensive stereotype to predict all of human behavior (based upo
n surface level traits) -- with a zero tolerance for potential exceptions. I once dated a woman who deceived me and dumped me. Does this mean that all women are evil, and that I should never associate with any of them again? It’s all too easy to allow fear to justify closing ourselves off; to create a simple storyline that breaks down another group of humans we’ve never met into mindless entities incapable of breaking from the illusory mold we’ve so confidently predicted for them. But the fact of the matter is: There are good people of every race, culture and nationality who are capable of treating us like good friends -- if we are just willing to give them a chance. By making a valiant effort to align ourselves with this truth, we can develop the ability to transcend race and culture.

  At this point, it’s likely that you’re still wondering about why it’s all my fault. How could it possibly all be my fault? I’ll spill the beans now. As I type these words, I notice that my computer is plugged into an electric socket in the wall, which consumes electricity. Where does this electricity come from? It’s generated from a combination of natural gas, oil, and nuclear power. I’m so detached from this process that I hardly ever consider this. Do I have any idea where this oil or gas comes from? I don’t have the slightest clue. I’m completely ignorant of this information. I just wake up in the morning and plug in whatever devices make my life more convenient. I do shut off all of the lights when I leave a room, and remove plugs when they’re not in use, but this doesn’t change the fact that I’m completely dependent on these technologies. There is a meter that tells me how much energy I use, but it doesn’t tell me anything about what this energy is doing to the air and water for everyone else who lives nearby. Isn’t it true that the nuclear energy plant being used to power my internet connection right now is strikingly similar to the one currently dumping radioactive waste into the Pacific Ocean off of the coast of Japan? Isn’t it true that this has been occurring for several years now -- contaminating much of the sea life in the region -- and no one knows how to make it stop?

  Though I don’t own very many material things, almost none of them were created and manufactured by me. Just looking around at the items in the room I’m in right now, I can only begin to imagine how much exploitation and human suffering went into making it possible for me to properly function in this developed society. The chair I’m sitting in says that it was made in Beijing, China. What is the quality of life like for the people who made this chair? Do I understand that the air quality is so bad there that both children and the elderly have been advised to remain indoors?

  There are some clothes in my hamper. One shirt that I purchased at a thrift shop a few years ago has a tag that says it was made in Bangladesh. I remember hearing a story about an unsafe clothing factory in Dhaka, Bangladesh that collapsed not too long ago, killing over one thousand people. It’s entirely possible that my shirt came out of that factory. I’ll probably never be able to know for sure that it didn’t. What are the family members of the victims going through? What would they have to say to me if they were in front of me right now, knowing that their loved ones were crushed alive to produce a low-cost shirt that is not essential to my survival? If I could make it so that this shirt never existed, but their loved ones could come back to life, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I cannot. There is nothing I can do to bring them back. What is the name of the person who held this fabric in her hands, and manufactured it so flawlessly? What did she look like? What was her favorite color? What was her favorite thing to eat for dinner? Did she have any children? Did she have a favorite bedtime story and song she used to sing, to help them fall asleep feeling safe and warm?

  It’s really tough to accept that after knowing all of this, I still take part in many of the systems that create these horrific problems. In nearly every aspect of my life, I am totally disconnected from almost all of the processes that take place to provide me with my current lifestyle. I try very hard to live a minimalist and socially conscious lifestyle, in order to reduce the negative impacts my life has on other living beings around the planet. But the fact of the matter is, it’s just not good enough right now.

  By creating a demand for any type of good or service that utilizes an unethical supply chain, I am undeniably a part of the problem. Do I realize how many immigrants in my own country are exploited to do such hard jobs for such low pay -- to create the infrastructure and goods that make modern life more convenient for me? Am I even capable of building a shelter by myself, using local materials? Why haven’t I created a way to produce my own sustainable clean energy source yet? Why haven’t I learned how to make my own clothing? Why am I releasing this book in print form, when it means that some more trees will have to be chopped down as a result? Why haven’t I yet invented a way to convert all of the plastic floating around in the Pacific Ocean into some new form of material that can be used as a paper and ink substitute? And even if I did somehow do this, I certainly still haven’t yet invented a 100% clean energy transportation system to distribute these materials without creating more air pollution in lieu of deforestation.

  In every passing moment, I have the capability to learn more, to invent more, to become more aware of the world around me, and to do better than I have in the past. For most of the years of my life, I was completely ignorant of everything that has been written in this book. I was born into this world, and just hit the ground running, totally oblivious about how much of an impact my life was already having on everyone else from before I was even old enough to walk. But the fact still remains: Ignorant or not, my actions are my actions, and I have to live with the results of those actions.

  I may not have necessarily chosen to be born into this modern world the way it is, but regardless, I am here now, and I must accept that the systems and circumstances that allow for my existence can be a matter of life and death for many others around the world. Though it can be argued that others are also at fault in some way, this is not the highest priority concern for me right now, and can largely become a distraction. Does this make my actions any less wrong? Is focusing primarily on what others do -- rather than on what I do -- really the most effective way to create positive change? I do not control anyone else’s actions, and yet I do control 100% of my own; so it seems pretty clear to me that I need to focus on improving myself first and foremost. I cannot throw my hands up in the air, act helpless, and abdicate myself of responsibility, because then my entire life would be a lie. There is nothing we can ever do to force anyone else to change, but we can always do our very best to inspire through leading by example. I am completely responsible for all of the negative impacts I’ve created, and I am completely responsible for all of the positive impacts that I am capable of producing that I have not created yet. This is why it’s all my fault.

  To delve deeper into this philosophy, I’ve created a hypothetical thought experiment for you to consider. I call it: The stranded island dilemma. Suppose that a plane were to crash on a stranded island. You are one of one hundred survivors, all of which are strangers. After searching around for awhile, you discover that there is no source of food anywhere in sight, and everyone is in danger of starving to death.

  Then, you come across a giant mountain. Since this is the only place you haven’t been to yet on the island, everyone decides that trying to climb it is the only hope left for finding some sort of food supply to survive. And so, the climb begins. It doesn’t take long before it dawns upon the group that this mountain is extremely dangerous to navigate. A sense of despair and hopelessness begins to wash over the group, as it is uncertain as to whether or not anyone will even be able to get to the top.

  Fortunately for you and nineteen of the other survivors (making ten women and ten men in total), you are expert mountain climbers. On the way up the mountain, the other eighty people try as hard as they can, but are physically unable to make it to the top. Some are old, some are young, and some are physically or mentally handicapped. The others are just not physically gifted enough to make the climb.

&nbs
p; You and the nineteen other climbers finally make it to the top. When you get there, you discover a giant lake; with rows of fruits, vegetables, beans, and nuts growing around it. It is more than enough food to feed all one hundred survivors for the foreseeable future. You and the other climbers are ecstatic, realizing that starvation will no longer be an issue, and that you can now relax a little. While searching around the mountaintop, you come across a field full of grapes. The grape vines are some of the longest and strongest vines you’ve ever seen. Then, you remember that the other eighty survivors are still stuck down at the bottom of the mountain, and that if you tried hard enough, you could figure out a way to use these vines to help the others reach the top.

  Here comes the million-dollar question. Do you:

  A) Use the grape vines to help the other eighty survivors make it to the top of the mountain, even though doing so would mean risking the possibility that you fall off, increasing how fast you use your food supply, and exerting lots of time and effort?

  Or:

  B) Go on just relaxing and living your easy life with the other climbers who made it, and say that it’s survival of the fittest, so it sucks for the rest of those who couldn’t make it to the top?

  (By the way, the majority of the people atop the mountain with you have chosen option B. So if you choose option A, you will likely be considered someone with unpopular views that diverge from the mainstream. Additionally, you will find very little help or support from others, and constantly have to deal with ridicule and intentional setbacks from others who do not want to see things change.)