Hope despite the mess!

Hope despite the mess!
Why we don't have to give up even in the major crises of our time

by Peter Dabrock
[This article posted on 5/31/2022 is translated from the German on the Internet, https://zeitzeichen.net/node/9799.]

The many crises of the present day often seem to overwhelm us, and their complexity threatens to create hopelessness. Peter Dabrock, Professor of Systematic Theology with a focus on ethics in Erlangen, believes that this should not and need not be the case. Fortunately, there is enough reason for hope, and it comes directly from the heart of our society.

Unresolved wounds and scars from the coronavirus crisis, necessary consequences for the future, ideas for genuine reconciliation work. Just over three months ago, thoughts on the current situation would have started like this. And those who were hopeful would have added: Even and especially in the crisis lies an opportunity - not simply to go back to the way things were, but to make a new start.

And then came 24 February - the rupture of civilization never again considered possible here in Europe: the attack, the murder, Putin's will to destroy, but also too many in Russia - tolerated by the even more powerful and threatening China. Corona and its consequences - blown away in the reality of the media. The proclaimed turnaround has brutally shaken us out of our self-sufficient slumber. We have landed in a mess.

Even if it sounds onomatopoeic, muddle has nothing primarily to do with the nasty mud that drags you into the depths - mud sounds like a force of nature, a fateful fate. But this impression is deceptive. The Yiddish expression Schlamassel means the opposite, namely self-inflicted misfortune, bad luck, misfortune, but through one's own doing. You could say: you're really stuck in the mud, you can hardly get out. But the fact that you are in danger of sinking is not fate, but machsal, as the philosopher Odo Marquardt describes the consequences of self-inflicted actions or omissions.

The mess of our time is probably due in no small part to the fact that we have repressed, postponed and neglected things. In the words of sociologist Stephan Lessenich, we have made ourselves too comfortable for too long as an "externalization society". We have always and forever externalized our problems and challenges - banished them to the outside world or to the future: Our military security to the USA, relying too heavily on China for much of our economic prosperity, on cheap imports from Russia for much of our energy needs, on Ukraine for much of our cheap wheat, on other cheap importers for much of our food, sending some of our affluent waste to countries in Africa, plastic into the oceans; pensions, national debt, ailing infrastructure, climate and biodiversity protection to the next generation. In a "senior democracy" (Emanuel Richter), their demands on us will hardly count, many people probably think. This spatial and temporal externalization is currently falling on our feet. At the same time, we have redefined our unreasonableness as reason, namely as the rationality of "faster, higher, further" and at the same time discredited the necessary knowledge of change and willingness to change as unreasonableness.

The even bigger mess

The mess of our externalization strategies is embedded in the even bigger mess of globally induced crises: the financial crisis, the sovereign debt crisis, the Fukushima effect, the migration challenge of 2015, the coronavirus crisis and Putin's war of annihilation. Alongside this huge mess, skirmishes such as the academic freedom debate, cancel culture and identity debates already seem like distraction strategies - although they are also important.

Unfortunately, the currently trendy interpretation of society and sociological diagnosis of the times hardly offer any way out of the mess. Their influential interpretations are often only empirically saturated to a limited extent and can therefore be characterized as crypto-normative. In addition, they unanimously reinforce the impression that we are totally blank! This is precisely why they are part of the problem rather than the solution. Those who target them should be able to defend themselves against the Cassandras. That's why it's worth taking a look at the positions of what are probably the most influential sociologists of our time: Armin Nassehi from Munich and Andreas Reckwitz from Berlin.

Nassehi explains to us how little room for maneuver we actually have in modern society: Structures and social systems are fairly self-sufficient and, incidentally, function quite properly; politics reaches its limits mightily when it wants to intervene in other functional systems - such as the economy or science - and civil society can't do that anyway; it notoriously engages in purely symbolic and ersatz debates. The actions and maneuvering during the coronavirus crisis have made this quite clear. We had expected far too much from politics, but also from the possibility of implementing scientific findings.

The next bitter insight according to Nassehi: a unified we does not exist: this is a social illusion with which we actually only wanted to cover up our lack of ability to act for overall social decisions in the modern age, in a society in which everything has always been more or less in order. Constantly confronted with excessive complexity and our own powerlessness to act, we then feel a notorious unease, according to the title of his last major work. And this unease, according to Nassehi, is the general basic feeling of modern man. Finally, his fatalistic diagnosis: if you want to do good, for example to combat climate change, you should focus more on consumer incentives than on education, as their effect is rather modest.

Nassehi's Berlin antipode Andreas Reckwitz shares this diagnosis of widespread unease. However, in his diagnosis of the crisis, he focuses less on the complex structures and more on the cultural self-description. His book Society of Singularities postulates: The traditional middle class with its club life, detached house and Goretex vacation has become obsolete in its guiding function. This milieu is struggling with fears of loss in terms of its cultural and political recognition - and the younger members of this milieu are even struggling economically.

Both concepts of our leading contemporary sociologists leave me skeptical: In Nassehi's case, I have doubts as to whether his category of discomfort can lay claim to worldwide interpretation. I would like to see further differentiation according to countries, cultures, generations, genders and milieus. And his alleged antidote of focusing more on consumer incentives than on educational success seems to me to be an unnecessary and false alternative. Reckwitz's interpretation of the present also leaves many people feeling uneasy, either because they are in danger of being left behind culturally or because they end up in a great competition to outdo each other in supposed efforts to achieve singularity. Here, too, the question arises: does Reckwitz's interpretation of society apply beyond German sensitivities? Is it true that we live or want to live in a society of singularities? In any case, empirical social researchers have falsified Reckwitz's theory as empirically unsaturated: it is simply normative, but not empirically substantive (see also here). However, the two seemingly contradictory contemporary interpreters Nassehi and Reckwitz seem to agree on this: The old we, the communal, public spirit and struggle for the common good - that no longer works.

This observation, this diagnosis is more than sobering, it is shocking. And it is not entirely wrong, because the mess is indeed big. Nevertheless, I refuse to let go of hope, because hopelessness is the door to hell for Dante.

More than the will to survive

"As long as I breathe, I have hope!" -"And the sun will rise again and again!" or in soccer parlance: "Hope dies last!". These sayings are about the feeling, the attitude towards hope. The following words are more content-oriented: "You hope for what you can't see!" or "In the end, at least in the end it will be good!" - endless words of wisdom about hope: they all make it clear that people always encounter something that goes beyond what they imagine, plan or predict. Perhaps it is the pure will to survive - individually or collectively; especially in such terrible experiences as those of the people in and from Ukraine.

Perhaps. But hope is more than the will to survive: in the face of all our plans, in the face of all our projects, but also in the face of all fatalistic consolations or despair, we experience a surplus of possibility. Following one of the most important theologians of our time, Ingolf Dalferth, hope can therefore be aptly described as the "reality of the possible". This means that hope teaches us to see things differently, in a completely new way: a new story against the familiar. Hope as the reality of the possible sharpens the human sense of possibility, which can or could pull us out of our self-inflicted mess.

But beware! Religions, philosophy and psychology repeatedly remind us not to confuse hope with optimism. Hope is not simply a methodological competence to achieve goals - individual coaching, collectively developed coalition agreements.

Those who rely on hope know this: Hope may formulate a goal, but this remains fragile, and the path to it even more so - "For now we see everything in a mirror, in a mysterious form, but then face to face" (1 Corinthians 13:12). According to the Letter to the Hebrews, hope rests on trust "in things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1). Hope therefore provides no guarantees of security - it is always precarious, but that is probably precisely why it is so attractive, because this power of "and yet", of "now more than ever" cannot simply be refuted.

The Janus-faced nature of hope

This Janus-faced nature of hope taps into a well-known motif from Europe's cultural memory: the myth of Pandora's box: Pandora opens the box in a forbidden manner and all kinds of evil escape from it, only hope, which is also in the box, cannot escape. The interpretations are legion: According to some, hope ennobles the escaped evil as perhaps good after all. Sometimes hope is identified with the other evils and thus degraded to an evil itself. The Pandora myth shows that we should not be too quick to instrumentalize hope, because then it becomes a method after all. And the task of getting over Nietzsche with Nietzsche is: it depends on how we accept which images of hope. Hope is not the same as hope.

The fact that hope must not be instrumentalized as a method, but that it can pave the way for it without knowing what exactly is happening, and how incredibly exhausting this can be, how it not only leaves you beaten, i.e. changed forever, but can also leave you blessed, is illustrated by the other biblical tradition that is so influential in Europe's cultural memory. Specifically in the story of Jacob's battle at Jabbok (Genesis 32). The prehistory includes the eternal fraternal quarrel with Esau, with deceit and hatred from the very beginning. Jacob plans a meeting with Esau, whom he wants to appease prophylactically by sending messengers with gifts. The scene of the battle with the stranger takes place immediately beforehand at night and by the river, temporal and spatial indicators of the greatest risk.

Preparing the way for reconciliation and not just planning, according to the story of Jacob, does not work with one's own preparation through messengers and gifts sent in advance. Rather, one must be prepared to face what comes as a surprise. Jacob cannot avoid the battle. As we know, Jacob and the unknown will fight until the morning and Jacob will continue his journey as a limping person, as a person with a disability.

"Hopeful hope" and the three illusions

Unlike the Pandora myth, the story of Jacob at Jabbok does not just focus on the ambivalence of attitudes and images of hope. Rather, it teaches us to say goodbye to at least three dangerous illusions when it comes to "hopefulness":

Firstly, from the illusion of protest: anyone who wants hope to become reality must not see the cause of change only in others or externalize faults. Pure protest against what is perceived as suffering is not enough. Jacob sees the mess and the suffering that he himself has caused his brother and others. Those who hope to pave the way for a goal must not persist in "It's everyone else's fault" or "They'll sort it out".

Secondly: from the illusion of control: Jacob prepares the steps towards reconciliation. But when the unexpected confrontation with the unknown occurs, he confronts it. Suddenly the fight thwarts his own plans for reconciliation. He has to face up to it and overcome the challenge. Otherwise he won't make it across the river or to the next morning.

Thirdly: from the illusion of harmony: in addition to the question of one's own contribution to the mess, it requires the willingness to become completely different, new, through the encounter with the extraordinary. This is not always nice. It often hurts and leaves a lasting mark. For Jacob, it was worth accepting this damage to his old identity. He hoped that the promised new thing would be greater than what he knew before.

If hope is also characterized by ambivalence despite encounters with the extraordinary, it depends crucially on what is hoped for - and this is quite different for everyone; there are universally known images of hope, but these are also processed individually.

Thrown back on hope

My own profession, that of theology, which for all its rational penetration also has something to do with witnessing, throws me back to elements of hope in the Christian faith. I want to formulate them in such a way that they can also be understood and hopefully inspired beyond Christian religious culture: There is hope as the firm trust: What has been well set in motion will be completed in the end through all the trials and tribulations. To quote Max Horkheimer: "In the end, the murderer will not triumph over the victims." And where and because suffering happens again and again and because unpaid suffering happens, this is unacceptable. Because we are certain: everyone "deserves" equal recognition, no matter how powerful, how important, how rich, how educated, how old, what skin color, what origin, what gender, what profession someone has.

We take everyone with us and are "in doubt for the weak", as the defensible achievements of our constitutional and welfare state democracy show me. As a Christian, I am a "constitutional patriot" (Dolf Sternberger, Jürgen Habermas) of the Basic Law, especially of the supporting images of human dignity and human rights. I do not want to give up the hope that they will continue to be realized - despite all the knowledge of ambivalence and the danger of the illusion of protest, control or harmony of hope. We may not have a safe method, but we can pave the way[1]. But how can we do that?

Before I tackle this question, let me remind you once again of the diagnostic skepticism of my colleagues Nassehi and Reckwitz, who convey the message: The social we has dissolved into functional systems and structures, or rather in the competition to outdo each other for attention. We have lost a 'we' - as felt in the summer fairytale of 2006 - if there ever was one.

A we despite everything

I say against that: Yes, in and despite all of this, there is a we. Not a controlled or pseudo-harmonious we, but one that keeps opening up despite all the communication bubbles. On the one hand, obviously in surprisingly strong solidarity when hardship arises, for example the welcoming culture of 2015, but also the broad and deep willingness to show solidarity for those particularly endangered by corona over two years, despite all the so-called lateral thinkers and people walking around, finally for the victims of the flood disaster and now with those of Putin's and his accomplices' war of annihilation.

It is true that the welcoming culture has turned into a refugee crisis, and the externalizations mentioned at the beginning are not off the table; lateral thinkers and promenaders undermine solidarity with the weakest and democratic culture because they make their own desires for freedom absolute.

Nevertheless, there is broad agreement that freedom should not only be measured in terms of one's own well-being, but also in terms of others, especially the socially disadvantaged, and in solidarity with those who lack recognition (see here). The strong welfare state is widely accepted, even by those who pay more than they receive. I am happy to pay taxes because it allows me to live in a country that still has an infrastructure that benefits more than just me.

I believe that we do not appreciate the hopeful potential of this civic insight enough; on the contrary - with too little courage - it remains unused: Citizens, as the corona crisis showed, were willing to bear restrictions early, for a long time and intensively. An overwhelming proportion of this society would have followed the path of solidarity with these groups for a long time: they would have combined freedom with solidarity.

Unique network

On the other hand, below the media radar of the major crises, Germany has a unique civil society network compared to many other countries: the unbroken commitment in countless clubs, associations and organized communities for decades, in some cases centuries. Perhaps this is an expression of Germany's small-mindedness, but the effect is evident. Our vibrant civil society vitalizes society on this side of structures and beyond the ideology of singularity. Just walking through the market of opportunities at a Protestant church congress always leaves me feeling happy about this supporting pillar of our society, and the initiatives there are just one part of the whole. This is the "we" that sustains our society and offers every reason for hope in a mess.

To conclude, here are three recommendations on how we can pave the way for hope to get out of this mess:

First: take the WE seriously: Many more citizens are prepared to go along with difficult things that restrict them, things that are supposedly complicated and unpopular. The style of politics that comes clean, that says what is intended and what can go wrong, is currently gaining outstanding recognition - and that is a good thing!

Secondly: listening. During the corona crisis, I noticed once again how little local expertise was tapped into and used by higher authorities in politics and administration. I was always moved by the inspiring ideas that emerged on social media. Why haven't the responsible authorities at all levels systematically sought out and evaluated this enormous amount of experience? What a waste of material resources, but also what a wasted social opportunity to show that shaping society is not a one-way street! One almost had the impression that there was a fear of civic competence. Sovereignty is demonstrated by listening to others.

Thirdly: Strengthen the WE: But how are we to set strengthening signs of hope against structural and singularity apologists? In the early 2000s, there was a much-noticed debate in social philosophy between the two great intellectuals Nancy Fraser (not to be confused with Nancy Faeser) and Axel Honneth. It was published under the title: Redistribution or Recognition? Precisely because for many people the first word seems to have gone completely out of fashion or to be ideologically contaminated, we must remember the enlightening and strengthening interplay of the two moments for the cultivation of the "we" in order to pave the way for hope on this side of one-sided political appropriation.

On the one hand, more recognition is needed for the backbone of society. Without the broad center in clubs, associations, churches and initiatives, without a lively culture of togetherness, even the inspiring and creative avant-garde will not be supported. It would be an important, indeed imperative task for those responsible in politics and the media to pay more attention to this backbone. Volunteering also wants and needs to be nurtured, not just in Sunday speeches - there are enough proposals on the table. The middle class is not defined by any regulars' table slogans, be it in the pub or on Telegram, but by commitment to this society. Put positively: The best way to counter the division in society is not primarily to try and regulate the dividers, but to strengthen the good communities from within and from below.

And that is why we need more, but also more intelligent redistribution: Not dumping the cornucopia on this or that group strengthens the "we" in this society. If we want to promote the commitment of the middle, if we take the Basic Law's mandate to ensure equal living conditions seriously, then it is imperative to strengthen infrastructures that enable ecologically, economically and socially sustainable, lively exchange - for example between urban and rural areas, between the middle and the avant-garde. One of the strengths of German society that is worth defending is its plurality: the spirit of the world does not just live in Berlin or Munich, does not just think in terms of structures or singularities; it thinks, works and acts in Weimar, Cannstatt or Pottenstein.

We in Germany have images of hope precisely in this WE, in a WE that can free itself from the illusion of control, harmony and protest, and in which there is not only talk of the avant-garde, but in which the center of commitment is also recognized, heard and strengthened. Where should we start if not here and now? There is a huge mess here and globally! But we can only start, or more precisely: continue better, here, but we can do it not only as individuals, we can do it in our country, sensitive to others, here and in the world - as an open we. Will this happen? I am not necessarily optimistic; one method does not promise certainty, but I am hopeful. At any rate, these would be steps towards paving the way for hope in a mess. Then there would not only be mess, but mazel, happiness!


[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer made this distinction between planning methods and preparing the way by reckoning with the extraordinary - written in dark times. Bonhoeffer tried to retain hope despite everything and to gain responsibility from it. In this way, he wanted to make decisions with hopeful responsibility and yet by no means unilaterally resolve the ambivalences that he had to enter into. Specifically: Is it morally right to kill a tyrant?

Peter Dabrock (*1964) has been Professor of Systematic Theology with a focus on ethics at Friedrich-Alexander-Universität Erlangen-Nürnberg since 2010. Dabrock was a member of the German Ethics Council from 2012 to 2020 and its chairman from 2016 to 2020.