We live in a world of perpetual crisis
Monster storms like Sandy, which devastated the Rockaways, seen above, among other places, and other natural calamities are signs of a crisis. Credit: Patrick E. McCarthy
I had never heard the word "permacrisis" before it was announced last week as word of the year by the Collins English Dictionary.
It's an annual autumn ritual, these words of the year, and Collins was first out of the gate.
Permacrisis describes exactly what you think — a state of permanent crisis, with a connotation of lurching from one to the next without being able to catch your breath, as one of the Collins folks told The Washington Post.
Collins said in a statement that the word describes what it feels like to live "through [a] period of war, inflation, and political instability" and "sums up quite succinctly just how truly awful 2022 has been for so many people."
Now Collins is a UK publication and the Brits have grown uncomfortably familiar with crisis. In the past year, they've had three prime ministers, their beloved queen died, inflation is soaring, the economy is tanking, and there is more awareness every day that Brexit was a really bad idea — and that's before the nation's men's soccer team inevitably comes up short again in the World Cup that begins later this month.
But Collins was not being parochial in choosing permacrisis. And whether or not you think we in America are in permacrisis, the designation is useful in getting us to consider the nature of crisis itself.
A crisis usually isn't a momentary problem, unexpected calamity, or even a disaster. Those can usually be solved in finite time with a tight horizon. A crisis is a different beast. A crisis is a relentless grind. It takes a deeply different toll, a corrosive toll, one both psychological and emotional. It requires immense resources and commitment to resolve.
In America, we're too quick to label every problem that surfaces a crisis. It's an offshoot of our addiction to hype and superlatives. It's difficult to move us unless something is the biggest, smallest, worst, best, fastest, slowest. You're a winner or a loser, nothing in between. If we solve a problem, we want credit for tackling a crisis.
So what is a crisis and what isn't?
Your favorite store closing is not a crisis, though it might be a symptom of one.
Cheating in chess, poker, or some other sport or pastime is not a crisis. The rate of head injuries in football is a crisis.
The current rise in crime is not a crisis in many places. The willingness to say it is and the acceptance of that is a crisis. So is the lack of respect among some people for law enforcement, and vice versa.
Having dramatically divergent points of view is not a crisis. Our refusal to talk to others who disagree with us is a crisis.
Illegal immigration is a crisis fueled by other crises.
Opioid use and mental health are related crises. Wildfires, monster storms, lingering droughts, killer floods, and drying lakes and rivers are signs of a different crisis.
Growing political violence, and the unwillingness of some to call that out for what it is, is a crisis.
The lack of empathy, disregard for truth, inability to see the consequences of words and actions, and refusal to accept responsibility for them exhibited by so many in this country is an increasingly fraught crisis.
Voter fraud is not a crisis. Screaming voter fraud before it happens, in the absence of evidence, and intimidating voters based on that falsehood is a crisis.
Ballot counts that take time are not a crisis. Election deniers running elections would be a crisis.
The struggle of democracy worldwide is a crisis.
We have been told to never let a crisis go to waste, and it's sound advice. But when crises coalesce, when we find ourselves in a permacrisis, we're in a different place. A permacrisis can lay waste if we're not careful.
Columnist Michael Dobie's opinions are his own.
Michael Dobie is a retired member of the Newsday editorial board.
