How the British Taught Me the Merits of Pessimism
In a time of great uncertainty, a dose of pessimism can be a balm
When it comes to my nationality, I often play both sides of the fence, or perhaps more appropriately, the Atlantic. Though I’ve lived in the UK for ten years and have British parents, I spent the first 21 years of my life in the US, where I was born. I hold passports to each country.
As such, my shifting cultural loyalties can feel like a table tennis (or ping pong) match. I have a well-rehearsed diatribe about why I don’t live in the US and don’t plan to go back: guns, the ludicrous and ruinous healthcare system, poor infrastructure, no government-mandated vacation time, and just the general sense of hyper-individualistic doom. However, at the same time, I’m quick to get exasperated the Brits’ lack of go-getter-ism, appalling customer service, passive aggressive politeness, and insistence on thinking that a stoic lack of emotions is a positive aspect of the national identity. It is not.
However, as we’ve staggered out of (or back into) the pandemic, I’ve found myself feel more at home on the side of the Atlantic where I live, England. It’s not because the government has handled things well — on that, don’t even get me started—but rather, a decade of living here has trained me to have a high tolerance…
