This column isn't about 9/11 as a watershed geo-political moment when "everything changed," it isn't about how "America lost its innocence" and it isn't about "9/11 as the end of an era." Instead, this column is mainly about solipsism and America today. The thesis here is that as a society, we've somehow failed, in a deep and serious way, to make the great sacrifices necessary for preserving our democratic way of life. Most of us have failed to sacrifice the personal safety or comfort required for sustaining America, and this failure's perpetuation by my own generation would be the worst disaster of all.
It's painfully obvious to me that we wasted an unprecedented opportunity to reshape both our country and the international system after 9/11. On Sept. 12, 2001, the United States enjoyed absolute hegemony vis-a-vis all other nations, which, combined with our solidarity, would have enabled us to secure American preeminence into the 21st century. We could have used our leverage to influence global institutions, standards of legitimacy and economic relations in ways very favorable to us. It's too late for that now we're in a "post-American world."
For nearly a decade now, America has been fighting two wars, with 1 percent of the population doing 100 percent of the fighting. Most of us (including myself) are totally oblivious to the sacrifices the soldiers and their families make. We've suffered literally no additional taxes, no rationing, no wage freezes, no draft, etc. We can choose to be ignorant of what's going on in Iraq and Afghanistan and it doesn't affect our lives one way or the other. Sure, some of us stick ribbons on our mini-vans or organize welcome-home committees at airports, but empathy isn't enough.
Politics in this country may be worse than they ever were in our history. Our leaders today ask nothing of us and give us little in return. Many estimates of the War on Terror's cost have placed it around $3 trillion over the past decade, yet in that time we've barely invested in public education, infrastructure, public works, science, etc. What made us great we now largely ignore. It took us nine years to pass legislation providing benefits to 9/11 first responders, nine years to "officially" end the War in Iraq, 10 years to kill Osama bin Laden, and two years to vote on health care reform. Much of our fighting abroad is done by private contractors, people who fight and kill not because they have to, but because they want granite countertops and larger cars. Our alliances with nearly everyone have eroded. Our economy has suffered the worst recession in its history, there's the possibility of a double-dip, and our government can't pass a decent stimulus or jobs plan for want of agreement over funding. Our planet's climate is facing potentially irrevocable danger too, though there's been practically no progress on that front either.
If there is real hope for our society, it's in us, fresh blood, the young and the privileged. The problem is that a confluence of forces increasing college enrollment, globalization, higher income inequality, grade inflation, sovereign debt crises at home and in Europe, gridlock in Washington, the declining value of the dollar, tuition hikes have yielded a more vicious meritocracy in which individual achievement is prioritized over social awareness. The professional spheres have become the primary forum for self-expression and advancement, with almost everything else significantly de-emphasized, such that we do less and less that isn't somehow for ourselves.
I say this knowing there are people at Dartmouth and elsewhere doing literally awe-inspiring things to promote social good. My point still remains, albeit qualified, since it's really about the larger generation-defining ethos than the myriad exceptions. The upshot, ultimately, is that although college students certainly fear retiring without social security or suffering another terrorist attack, they also fear LSATs, GREs, MCATs and case interviews. Most of us, because we operate under a system that encourages us to, end up so consumed by the latter fears we eventually ignore the former, having perpetuated the careers and business practices and ways of thinking that are responsible for many of our current problems. We risk becoming solipsists.
Whether or not our generation is ready to accept the challenges facing our great country remains unclear. Our success requires that we engage the world, somehow balance our individual ambitions and our role as citizens, and sacrifice for the greater good. This is what 9/11 has taught me above all. Ten years later, I'm just starting to understand.
