The language of politics and 'change'

One of the more unfortunate uses of language has been to cast political, social and economic issues in the abstract language of “change.”

I’m not against change. It does indeed appear to be a good thing to change one’s clothes every week or so when in the bush, just on the outside chance they may otherwise adhere to the body permanently. And it makes sense to change your transistor batteries when they run out unless, perhaps, you’ve been listening to CBC radio one.

It’s certainly a good thing to expect a change in weather or to anticipate that people sometimes change over time. Even changing one’s mind is likely a good thing, even if it’s only to jumpstart your neural net. Better than sticking your finger in a socket, as they say, and cheaper than a Shiatsu massage.

So don’t get me wrong. I’m no tight-legged conservative. (I have trouble even retaining a thought.) But if we could just keep the language of change restrained to these sorts of sensible uses, not as a form of political manipulation, we’d become a much more thoughtful crew.

Political parties are quick to cast our choice under the banner, “it’s time for a change!” (Does anyone ever remember asking them what time it was?)

Advocates of some new-fangled technology to reshape cognition and feeling, some new economic boondoggle or the newest thing in parenting or pedagogy are quick to defend their secret agendas, and often their confusion, under the admonishment, “one should never resist change.”

Conservatives are sometimes defined as those who don’t like change when the most active and vocal conservatives in Canada and the United States these days - okay, well at least George, Steve and Mike - have a desire to change virtually everything. Causing change can be such a power rush, eh?

Even progressives are hurt by this sloppy use of a word. To be a progressive one is supposed to welcome change, but regular folks not ruined by watching the tube ask: “what kind of change ya got in mind, fella? Do you really know where we are, where we’re going? And what’s in it for you, exactly?”

Those who promote change as if it were a god can be the most regressive forces in our society, and too often we find this out after the damage is done. On the other hand, to be a progressive is sometimes to stand by the good we have achieved.

The trick, as most of us know when we’re not being hustled, is never to ask whether we favour or oppose change, but whether this particular or set of change(s) is a good or a bad thing: for our well-being; for the rights and interests of others; in politics, education, parenting, fashion in cars, clothes, or music; or indeed when we decide where to spend the rest of our lives.

Whether something is a change or not is a lot less important than what it is we really have currently, what its real positive and negative values are, what will be carried forward, forgotten or left behind. As are questions about what we are changing to, what a change’s most likely outcome will be, not to mention the scope of its unintended consequences.

Where we’re going is hard to predict. Cripes, it’s hard enough to figure out where we really are, and for some of us harder than for others. (A friend of mine has determined that I got stuck in 1968.)

Still, blindly marching on under a “Change Now” banner, chasing “change for change’s sake,” for optics or, indeed, dragging our feet, whining and spitting into the wind to resist the future will likely not do any of us any good. And to be sure, a rest can be better than a change.