The Age of Poo-Pourri
And the Power of Humility
A poo-pourri, marketed as the before-you-go toilet spray, mirrors what is wrong with America. A poo-pourri tries to show people that my sh*t doesn’t stink and even convince ourselves into believing that lie. The thing is, our sh*t does stink. We have just become so used to disguising our sh*t as lavender and eucalyptus, that we have forgotten these odors are just that, a mask. America has entered the age of poo-pourri. An era that rewards virtue signaling over legitimate virtue, intention above outcome, and perception more than reality. In a time when validation is achieved through lifestyle sensationalization, often outright fictionalization and elections are determined by popularity, not policy, it is not surprising that image building is fundamental to our livelihoods, but it is counterproductive towards meaningful progress. While insecurities are exploited and identity politics weaponized, combating this problem requires us to consider the capital virtue of humility. Or in other words, that my sh*t stinks too.
Humility empowers an individual to accept nuance, to see past themselves, to acknowledge bias, think critically, to understand that knowledge is a lifelong pursuit, and that humanity is an experience, not an answer. Humility gives us perspective.
Maimonides, a prolific Torah scholar and philosopher of the Middle Ages, teaches that one of the highest forms of charity is to give to the poor without knowing to whom one gives. Maimonides’s message is clear: doing a good deed for the sake of the goodness of the deed itself, not for how it will make the giver appear, is most noble. Spraying poo-pourri out of courtesy, not deception.
Too often in America, people champion causes and elect candidates that fundamentally contradict their values for the sake of wanting to be perceived in a certain way. Ideals and campaigns have become embodiments of almost spiritual-like bowel movements, instead of vessels for specific change, capitalizing on this need for approval. The prioritization of how you are seen as a person – or at least want to be seen – rather than what you actually stand for impedes real progress. Compounding this issue are tribalistic threats and intense vilification of anything ‘other.’ I am not sharing this to be cynical or to suggest abandoning conviction, but rather that we should make decisions based on evidence, not identity.
On a psychological level, addressing issues with humility is difficult. As difficult as admitting that, my sh*t stinks too. This tendency is known as cognitive dissonance and refers to how when a person is bought into something deeply, on a neurological level, their brain is eager to justify and even think highly of it. Cognitive dissonance can go so far as to make a person do or feel something that they would normally detest. Or convince themselves of things they know are not true or normal. Such as thinking my sh*t smells like roses when no one’s else does. Our unchecked intuition gives us a false sense of security in our ability to reason, especially when emotional ties and societal pressures play such a commanding role. While we like to think of ourselves as rational beings, more accurately, we are rationalizing.
Confirmation bias is the tendency to latch onto something we want to be true and is what makes it easier to recognize misinformation in adversaries than in friends (i.e. other people’s stink is easier to smell than our own). That is why having multiple political parties is productive. Partisanship keeps us in check when otherwise it would be hard to be. In America today, where the legacy press often ignores or misconstrues stories in the service of an ideological narrative, acknowledging bias can be challenging. Which makes having humility all the more critical. Humility does not mean we should compromise our values at the expense of another’s intolerance, or ignorance and we should not blur the line between understanding and sympathy. Embracing and learning from our differences, however, treating disagreement as a positive product of our diversity, rather than an unacceptable threat, is correcting.
Pou-pourri has allowed us to pose as blameless creatures of perfunctory perfection even though we are not. It has made us overly sensitive and judgemental of others’ natural fragrances and out of touch with the unpleasantness of our own. Inevitably, times arise when there is no poo-pourri at hand.
The question is, when this moment comes, and a decision must be made, will we surrender ourselves to the myth of poo-pourri – letting differences divide us and imaginary expectations define us? Or will we embrace our stink, or perhaps more critically, honor it, and work together towards creating a better, more compassionate future for us all?