Polycrisis and the Necessity of Art

Taking refuge

Photo by Simone Viani on Unsplash

Two concepts that I came across recently describe the general unease of the present moment: polycrisis, and vicarious trauma. Polycrisis comes from ecology and political economy; it refers to intersecting geophysical, economic and political processes that create global instability. (Read to the end, folks. This piece moves in a hopeful direction.)

Thinking about our historical moment as one of polycrisis allows us to see the Big Picture, that, is to see how ecological, political and economic difficulties are connected. If we treat each issue as discrete, we get worn down by a seemingly never-ending firehose of bad news: wildfires, supply chain disruptions, price hikes, political violence, hostage-taking . . . . The concept of a polycrisis describes the whole, it gives us a way to conceptualize what would otherwise be an inchoate morass of anxiety-producing disasters.

Finnish researcher Ville Lähde defines the polycrisis as the problem of

increasing [world system] complexity, interrelatedness and the lack of ‘buffering’ between eco-social systems [that] has resulted in increasing vulnerability to cascades of changes, domino effects across ecological, social, political and economic systems. Thus, several system-level crises (eg, food systems, energy systems, international politics, logistics) can meet and amplify each other.

That’s what’s happening. Our world system has become so complex that disturbances in one sector or region reverberate and affect all the others. We Are the World, indeed.

This is an essential feature of our times. The impact of recent shocks to the world energy market stemming from Russia’s war on Ukraine are multiplied by shortcomings in global food production — some linked to climate change — and by growing inflation generated in part by government spending to manage the COVID-19 pandemic.

Adam Tooze, a historian at Columbia University, spoke to the World Economic Forum in Davos about the polycrisis. He summed up:

‘If you've been feeling confused and as though everything is impacting on you all at the same time, this is not a personal, private experience,’ says historian Adam Tooze. ‘This is actually a collective experience.’

The good news is: correctly naming what we are experiencing puts us on a path to understanding. Collective agreement on the nature of a problem paves the way for strategic action. Tooze’s perception that polycrisis is a collective experience is key: each individual is part of the problem and part of the solution. Since we are faced with a collective action problem, solutions come by working through groups and organizations.

Where does that leave us, as individuals? What is our individual responsibility? What can we do to cope with the psychological effects of polycrisis on our individual lives?

This is where the second concept, vicarious trauma, becomes relevant. When digital media deliver information of disasters in real time, we are faced with human suffering in graphic detail on a grand scale; this affects our emotions and sense of personal security.

Clinical psychologist Dr. Julie Kapolow explains how individuals can experience vicarious trauma:

Events can negatively affect people a world away from the scene, especially when this involves witnessing fear, pain, grief, and terror that others have experienced. This is the “cost of caring”: 

• We empathize with victims and this can cause us to  “feel their pain.”

• We may also feel directly threatened, especially when we relate in some way to those most impacted—“this could be me” or “this will be me.”  

• We feel helpless to do anything. 

Our attitudes and worldviews shift after exposure to distressing images of these events. This is vicarious trauma—the psychological impact of second-hand exposure to traumatic events. If left unrecognized and, in some cases, untreated, it can lead to depression, anxiety, PTSD, social withdrawal, substance abuse, or suicidal thoughts. 

Kaplow and her colleague, Dr. Katelyn Jetelina, discuss personal strategies to address vicarious trauma here. My purpose in this essay, though, is to link polycrisis (a collective experience) and virtual trauma (an individual effect) in order to incorporate both levels of experience. (It’s much easier for Americans to focus on the “I” and ignore the “we.”) Since polycrisis is a collective experience, analysis and solutions must occur at the I/we intersection.

Polycrisis necessitates human adaptation to “cascades of changes” and “domino effects.” Humanity is faced with a choice: accept the reality of uncertainty or cling to the destructive delusions of the past. Positive expectations amidst uncertainty are possible—if new (and scary!) conditions are approached with curiosity. Professor Tooze presents this simple analogy to dispel fear:

[I]t's like riding a bicycle. The bike is inherently unstable—it should fall over. If it falls over, you get hurt. On the other hand, if you learn how to ride it, it's God's gift.

Stay present, balance on the bicycle, look forward.

---

Exhortations are not enough. We need many types of refuge in the polycrisis. Art is a crucial one—not as a retreat but as a restorative.

Artists look at the world from within, drawing on real, human experiences. They take us to places we have never been to before, but that we recognise instantly. They teach us about basic emotions that headlines can’t touch. They make individual suffering universal. But they can also provide a lesson for those in power, showing how their actions affect communities, cause trauma down the generations, and harm those who have done nothing wrong. Art, no matter when it was made, can teach us that violence is never the answer.

Welcome to my gallery.

Colors create mood

This is my house.

Photo: M. Osa, “Upward glance.”

Music elevates spirit

Alice Coltrane

Poetry gives refuge

   Adrienne Rich
In Those Years

Poetry heals wounds

On the night of Martin Luther King’s assassination in Memphis, Robert F Kennedy gave a speech in a mostly African-American neighborhood of Indianapolis. He began:

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I'm only going to talk to you just for a minute or so this evening, because I have some very sad news for all of you . . . and, I think, sad news for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world; and that is that Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight in Memphis, Tennessee.

Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort. In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the United States, it's perhaps well to ask what kind of a nation we are and what direction we want to move in. . .

RFK quoted his favorite poet, Aeschylus, from memory:

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God.

Watch the whole speech. You will cry.

Related Grounded articles:

The Pursuit of Happiness (September 5, 2023)

Why is Life So Hard Here? (August 29, 2023)

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Notes:

Katy Hessel, In this neverending news cycle of violence, art speaks to our shared humanity.

Katelyn Jetelina and Julie Kaplow, Social media, terrorist attacks, war, and vicarious trauma.

Ville Lähde, (ed. by Sam Haselby), The Polycrisis

Michael Murray Lawrence, ‘Polycrisis’ may be a buzzword, but it could help us tackle the world’s woes.

Kate Whiting, This is why 'polycrisis' is a useful way of looking at the world right now