Glassner argues that focusing on these problems, blown out of proportion or even trumped up, distracts us from paying attention to what actually matters and what we might be able to change. This culture of fear plays on our anxieties, coming and going without resolution, moving from one fear to the next, leaving a residual sense that we must do something—so we worry over things that may or may not be significant or even real.
Then again, some of what worries us is all too real.
Here are some of the things we worry about.
Work. Good employees worry about their jobs. We really worry when the economy is not booming—but we don’t stop when things are going well. We worry about losing our jobs, finding jobs, getting noticed at work, being asked to do more than we can handle, not being challenged, making the right impression, being overlooked for advancement, not getting everything done, making mistakes, and keeping our organizations afloat. Some of us work too many hours, long past the point of productivity, simply because we can’t bring ourselves to let go and walk away. Others stop working at the end of the day but mentally never leave work. While technically they’re engaged with their families, friends, and God, they are always giving the best part of their thought life to worrying about work.
Parenting. We worry that our kids are not eating right, that they’re eating too much or too little, that they don’t have enough friends, that they have too many of the wrong friends, that they don’t have the right clothes or the right attitude. We worry that their grades aren’t high enough, that their backpacks are too heavy, that they aren’t having enough fun in school, that they have too much fun in school, that they don’t believe in themselves or they don’t appreciate the value of a dollar. We worry that they’re being bullied, they’re bullying someone else, they’re falling behind educationally (when they’re three years old), they’re not being challenged, they will miss out on opportunities. Parents also worry (a lot) that someone will snatch our children off the street.
Civic Issues. Concerned citizens worry about the economy, the education system, the health care system, the political system. We worry that the “right” candidates won’t get elected, the “wrong” candidates will, things won’t change, things will change, our fellow citizens won’t care about what we care about, interest rates will increase, standards of living will decrease, we might not get ahead. We worry that our voices won’t be heard, that our voices will be the only ones saying something unpopular, that our votes won’t make a difference. We worry that we won’t get what we need, that others will get something they didn’t earn, that what we have will be taken away.
§
02.
Too Much Information
Being informed citizens is easier than ever; unfortunately, it can also be hazardous to our mental health. In efforts to boost ratings and maintain our prone-to-wander attention, news media present several new things for us to worry about each day. One woman told me she refuses to watch the news because “it propagates worry. It feeds our fears.” Another friend takes a different approach and refuses to turn away because she wants her theology to be realistic about the world we live in. It’s hard to know which point to embrace on that strategic spectrum.
Broadcasters flash compelling headlines and teasers that encourage us to click on links or tune in to what they say, often with very little substance in the actual stories. “What killer may be lurking in your refrigerator? Find out on the ten o’clock news,” they say. Tune in for the actual story, and you might find out that if your milk is more than six months old, it could contain bacteria that will make you sick. That’s the killer in your fridge. Now on to the next story about a cat and a dog who have forged a friendship against all odds.
Social media has dramatically increased our ability to worry publicly over people and places we don’t know, and cause others to worry over them too. When one person with an influential voice sends a message highlighting an announcement, a cause, or the plight of someone in need, that message can make its way to a vast potential audience in a matter of seconds. Suddenly millions of people receive alarming news, perhaps with horrifying images and very little context, usually with no guidance on how to respond meaningfully and helpfully. We don’t even know whether what we’re hearing or seeing is true.
Every week is a new campaign to “raise awareness” of frightening realities, often among people who are already quite aware of those realities. Our inboxes are full of spam emails, forwarded by people we respected until they got too much time on their hands and started sending a steady stream of alarmist messages, troublesome myths, and nagging urban legends. Except for the most gullible among us, we are constantly fighting a battle to discern true information from false—and sometimes losing. We have access to more information than we can actually process, which comes at us at a pace and with a force we can’t possibly absorb. One suburban mom told me she now understands the urge people feel to move to a place where they believe they can escape the technology-laced world, “to separate their family from being bombarded with nonstop messages and unavoidable visuals.”