I remember it like it was yesterday, but it was almost five years ago.
A seller included a camouflaged Unimog—a lot like this one but with fewer than 200 miles on the odometer—in an auction conducted by my client. A rare find with a niche following on this side of the Atlantic, the auctioneer wanted me to do some targeted advertising for it. When I asked who to target, the answer was: “It’s going to be like the crazy weirdos that want it. Is there a category for that on Facebook?? 😀 . . . [state name] Militia people.”
I knew he was right. So, I targeted men of the far right side of the political perspective. I got 2,300 of those dudes to click 2,750 times on that ad. I don’t remember how it felt at the time, but I know how it would feel if I had built the ad yesterday.
I was in the office eleven hours today, churning out advertising while extremists stormed the Capitol building—for the first time since the British torched Washington, D.C. in 1814 and for the first time ever with a Confederate flag. When I got around to watching the footage we’ve all seen now, I felt complicit—because, in part, of that Unimog.
Let me explain.
That armed coup happened only because of compound self-interest.
The forty-fifth President of the United States incited that coup to try to scratch his way into another four years of power. The militants who stormed over barricades, up walls, through doors, and into the federal seat of power wanted to protect their comfort. The websites where they organized allowed their hate-filled discussions in order to sell them advertising. Political parties had seats to hold, PACs to court, and personal coffers to line. Decades ago, the news media that covers these historic moments split into more niche trenches for better ratings and better ad revenue. Talk radio and cable news commentators moved further and further from both the political center and graciousness to build followings for their shows, their books, and their egos. Social media platforms built their algorithms to benefit from arguing peers. YouTube, in particular, has been proven to recommend videos along a path to more extreme content.
Pontificators wanted bigger audiences.
Publishers wanted more newsstand sales and more bestsellers.
Platforms wanted more users to sell more ad inventory.
Politicians wanted more terms, more money, and more power.
Public companies wanted to keep their profit margins.
PACs wanted to keep job security.
Protestors wanted their protected status back
And I wanted to sell a Unimog and prove my advertising prowess.
The horrific events of today—the symbolism, the injustice, and the anarchy—didn’t sprout overnight. They built over time from individual choices. A compromise here. A shoulder shrug there. A cashed paycheck here. A bump in followers there. All of us complicit in where our nation currently is have needed more excuses. For some, those excuses have grown farther and farther fetched.
We could all point fingers tonight. Most of us probably already are. But I can’t help the Capitol Police or National Guard tonight. Neither can you. None of us can calm the rage in those who captured the important rooms of our republic. On our own, we can’t stop the scourge of COVID, its economic ravages, or its psychological toll. No group of us can end racism or other injustice. Sure: we can pray. I’ve seen a huge, communal prayer answered earlier today. But that prayer can’t be only for others. We must look into a mirror before we start that conversation.
I’m going to start with a confession: “God, forgive me for my part in this, my selfishness, my intentional ignorance.” I hope the answer to that prayer includes more awareness of those watershed moments and the courage to do the right thing when I’m in them.
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Stock image purchased from iStockPhoto.com
