I have been thinking through, once again, the precarious nature of politics in America, given recent circumstance. Another instance of police violence inflicted upon a citizen population has begun to stir the usual conversations around power, violence, and the state’s role in these matters. Predictably, much of the conversation has devolved to the narratives of blame — that is whether the perpetrating party acted justly or not. I am of the belief that this is entirely the wrong conversation; when the discourse of social responsibility is descoped to a single interaction between two individuals, we are only able to make judgments that are binary in nature, right or wrong, justified or not so.

When we look upon the protests that emerge from acts of police violence, we must be careful to recognize that all acts of protest are not incitements of one side against another, but rather an overflow of a precarious psychic state — the exacerbated soul made weary and wary by repetitive cycles of oppression and repression, seeking escape when all other exits have been legally thwarted. However, only by first-hand experience of collapsed social responsibility does one come to this realization — so long as we maintain distance from others’ realities, we are free to make whatever asinine judgments we please without feeling any of the consequence.

Making determinations of who was just purely based on legality is a philosophically bankrupt position; to take such a stance infers utmost authority to a government that can hardly come to agreement about the smallest tax or necessary benefit like affordable healthcare. How can one entrust moral authority to a body of officials that remains in as much of a flux as a voter’s whim? Rather than seeking justification or vindication for one side or the other, I believe the more appropriate response is to survey what morals are on display within an eruption of violence — who has power, how is it maintained, who bears the burden of the outcome? In these now sadly regular events, society is quick to assign blame without considering the mass or proportion of responsibility each party holds.

In the case of police violence inflicted on Black Americans, the most cursory look at history will reveal that Black communities bear the greatest burden of grief, recovery, and psychic injury, quantitatively and otherwise. When trust is broken between people and the state, we can see this over-proportioned burden expressed in the aftermath. The response of police is to suspend or fire the perpetrating officer, whatever is required to return to the typical function of the office. For Black communities, there are years, decades of conversation between leaders and constituents required to even begin any sort of restorative process between people and state, centuries of history to be made right before any healing can begin. Each instance of police violence only sets back these negotiations with historicity, locking entire communities in a persistent state of mistrust — not without empirical reason.

This same pattern exists in all human relations; if one says “I will change” after a misstep or miscalculation, yet the action is repeated again and again, how can trust thrive when all actions betray expression? Simply, it cannot. Restoring a precarious state of trust requires transformation, made visible and real to all the senses, both physical and psychic. Words only remain symbolic gesture until there is reality behind them. Consequently, seeking justice in opinions can only remain symbolic gesture until some sort of tangible transformation takes place, whether that be in reforms or revolutions — and again, the greatest burden to create this new reality falls primarily on Black communities that possess less stake in social responsibility than the powers of the state, and maybe more grievously the majority population that makes up our social body.

I am not questioning whether use of force was unjust, but to posit a hypothetical, even in instances of violence that are perpetrated in “self-defense,” by inherent nature of their position, police ought still to bear the greatest responsibility for enacting transformative change so that such instances might not occur again — the solution is not to crack down or double-down on forceful repression, but to heal a community that is grieving and experiencing trauma, to rebuild trust through visible and verifiable change. So long as there is mistrust between communities and the bodies that govern them, antagonisms will only grow, heightened to the point of desperation as we see in an almost regular cadence.

Hatred is easy. Assigning blame is easy. Helping others when we feel no immediate benefit to ourselves is difficult. But isn’t this cooperative spirit precisely what makes us human? Should we abandon our most principal humanity to assuage our own anxieties of the precarious? I think to do so can only end in disaster, bloodshed, and total collapse.

I write this analysis not to stoke tension, but to paraphrase Lacan, I write this in hopes that our interactions with each other will be made kinder — that we’ll listen to those who are pleading to be heard, putting aside our own dispositions to consider how we might make precarious relationships between communities stronger through cooperation and conversation. This can only begin by understanding how much burden for change lies with those without power, and then enacting social transformation through our daily experience of community with each other.

Transformation can only happen through reform or revolution — without a culture of kindness and genuine love for our neighbors, we may find ourselves embroiled in the raging fire of revolt, in which all the precarious matters that worry us will be decided overnight without a say from any side. I prefer peace, to work together to build thoughtfully a world we want to live in. The onus is on all of us to actively listen and walk in lock-step towards a future transformed for good, rather than destruction.

All power to all people.

Sincerely yours,
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