Don't Put Your Cat in a Sealed Box

A thought experiment about a thought experiment

Hi friendly readers! Today’s post is a collection of the things coursing through my mind. Thank you for joining me.

Intimacy and Proximity

I spent the last three weeks on the road, first in Wisconsin doing a series of very sweet book events to promote my debut, Group Living and Other Recipes, then in places dotted along the East Coast, seeing friends and sneaking in one more book panel. Many of my dear friends are having a hard time right now, for reasons that are both specific to them and inextricable from the larger political moment. Every place I visited, the weather was cool, clear, and energizing. The emotional experience was hot, blistery, and desiccating. It was confusing for my body. Yet, I was also deeply glad to be with people who I love in person.

Distance can make it hard to understand what others are going through, and I want to know how the people who I love are doing. I also want them to feel that I love them, even if that’s the only thing I can offer. On this trip, I kept being confronted with a specific realization: It’s not my responsibility to change how others feel. When things are difficult or painful or grueling in their life, feeling down is a natural response. Denying what they feel is cruel. And expecting everyone to be okay all the time is absurd. This is all very basic, but living it this time felt new.

I can joke and clown around, listen, remind them not to be hard on themselves, tell them that I love them, and offer new perspectives if they’re open to it. It’s different for their partners, siblings, parents, kids, and caregivers. Maintaining forbearance for long periods of time burns you out. And when everyone is struggling, it’s untenable. But maybe that’s the gift of an out-of-towner who has energy to bring. Like being an auntie or a bench player, you show up with as much presence as you can muster and offer your love. Hopefully they feel it. If not, you were a witness, and that’s something too.

When I was in Milwaukee, I went on a morning daytime show, the kind in every US city, to promote my book. Two warm and engaging women host the show, and the first segment of the day was a long piece about a straw topped in what looked like a Hello Kitty bowtie that one off the hosts had just discovered that allows you to drink liquids without puckering—to avoid wrinkle lines around your mouth. Then a guest promoted the re-opening of a spa. When my time came, I did my best to be peppy and bright to match the mood. I felt like a guest on an informercial, adding one more product to the mix. But the very same host who’d shown off her straw came out with the most surprising question, something like: “I haven’t had this experience myself, but I’ve heard that in a home, proximity without intimacy is the lowest form of hell. What do you think?” My jaw dropped. I nodded enthusiastically out of sheer amazement rather than agreement. I had no idea what she had in mind. Prison? Sexless relationships? An unfriendly roommate? I’m certain there are lower forms of hell. But in the weeks since, I’ve found a different question hiding in that one: Does intimacy require proximity?

"We're open for business."

As I was driving to New York City with some of my closest friends, we began talking about the latest multi-billion dollar package of weapons “aid” to Israel. I found myself asking why the US continues to send Israel weapons. I understand the reasons on the surface: greed, oil, gas, the US position in the Middle East, the military industrial complex, the longstanding economic and emotional ties between Israel and the US, Islamophobia, AIPAC. But still, I somehow wanted a more satisfying answer. What could honestly explain the willingness to give tools of death to a nation that is committing genocide. The majority of US citizens want to stop arming Israel. This position threatens Harris’ bid for president. Each shipment ensures the murder of thousands, the destruction of the natural world, and the march toward more death. The immorality of it is stark. It doesn’t make any sense on a human scale using a human heart. My friends said it really was that very list of things we were naming. I still felt unsatisfied with this answer.

The why came home to me in a different way when I read the most recent Harpers Weekly, a very curated round-up of the news published each week by my favorite literary magazine. Here’s an excerpt:

The Lebanese Armed Forces, which since 2006 has received more than $3 billion in funding from the United States, for the first time this year opened fire on the Israeli Defense Forces, to which the U.S. agreed to give at least $3.8 billion per annum over the next four years; the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights reported that at least 162 people killed during Israeli strikes in Lebanon were refugees from the ongoing civil war in Syria, where a CIA-funded militia group in the country’s northwest fought a Pentagon-funded militia group that was at times also backed by Russia, France, the United Kingdom, and Iraq; and the United States warned Iraq, which it had publicly supplied with weapons during the Iran–Iraq War, that it would carry out strikes inside the country if Iraqi leaders didn’t put a stop to attacks on Israeli troops by militia groups funded by Iran, to which country the CIA had secretly sent weapons during the Iran–Iraq War.^{13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28}

In case you didn’t notice, that’s all one sentence! And it’s one sentence that says essentially one thing: We traffic in weapons. In fact, the US will bet on pretty much anyone who wants our weapons. Our priority is manufacturing weapons, supplying weapons, and ensuring the continued necessity for more of the same. That’s what we’re up to. In the past, I’d say it’s not that simple. I’d point to US efforts to topple democratically-elected socialist governments that oppose US corporate interests—in other words, picking the side most friendly to US corporations and arming it. But the above shows something different. As Harpers titled the piece, “We are open for business.”

For me, this is some wild political version of Schrödinger’s Cat, a famous thought experiment to test quantum superposition. I’m not a physicist, let alone a quantum physicist, so please bear with my naive metaphor. To my understanding, in this thought experiment, a cat is placed in a sealed box with a flask of poison and a radioactive substance. (I believe the cat represents an atom.) These things may kill the cat, but while the box is sealed, the cat is both alive and dead. It’s not just that those are two possibilities. Quantum physicists say both are true simultaneously—the cat is alive and the cat is dead.

We give weapons into a system. We wait to see who lives and who dies. People live and people die. Many, many people die. We wait to see who “survives” and then we ally ourselves once again on multiple sides, and no one wins because there’s a fundamental mistake in the formulation: you have repeatedly introduced instruments of death into a system. The results are unsurprisingly sick and murderous.

Put another way: Why would you put a cat in a sealed box with a flask of poison and a radioactive substance? Who would do that? It baffles the mind!

AHP ladies and gentlemen!!!

To my absolute awe, the one and only Anne Helen Petersen sent me a series of incredibly thoughtful questions related to my book, which I had the honor of answering. Earlier this week she published our Q&A, Cultivating Non-Romantic Intimacy, on her newsletter, Culture Study. A friend colloquially refers to her as AHP because she’s that important of a thinker—sharp, probing, caring, honest. She’s a treasure.

One of the most surprising questions was the last one, about the so-called Seattle/Portland Freeze. Have any of you heard of “the Freeze”? I hadn’t! Because it was a new concept to me, I answered obliquely, looking at other narratives imposed on our cities that I’m trying to make sense of. I got to write this, which feels important to me:

…a common narrative is that Portland is filled with dangerous radical anarchists. If only! I wish we had more radicals in our city. I think of this media narrative as a wild case of mistaken scales: something quite small—a handful of passionate advocates for a more just system—is seen as a bigger threat to society than the issues they’re pointing to. Amplifying this take is a great tactic for pulling the public further to the right.

Another recent narrative is about the rise of homelessness in the city. This is true — the number of people living without shelter is growing — though the tenor with which the story is told is seriously off, as though vulnerable people are the scourge rather than our profit-first, deregulated housing market. The situation is heartbreaking, and the fundamental causes are worth addressing on a national scale. If we see this issue as collective, requiring aggressive policy actions to make housing a human right, rather than pointing fingers at a few cities, we might come together to prevent more people from living without stable, affordable, dignified housing, ourselves included. 

Speaking to Portland residents related to both of these narratives, I want to emphatically encourage you to not vote for Rene Gonzalez, who is running for mayor, and in fact to not rank him on your ballot at all! Here is good context and feel free to comment on this post if you want to discuss.

Back to this Q&A, I’d love if you read my full exchange with AHP! I enjoyed answering these questions so much. And of course you should subscribe to Culture Study. But I bet you already do!

Upcoming Events

The bulk of my book tour is over, and I loved it a lot. Thanks to everyone who joined me! I have a few more events, so please join if you’re free and in the neighborhood.

San Diego: October 24, 7 pm at Book Catapult. I’ll be in conversation with Madhushree Ghosh! Please tell your friends in that area! Maybe we could get a drink beforehand??

Portland: October 30, 5:30 pm at Turn! Turn! Turn! I’m joining Paul Susie and Jessica E. Johnson! This event is hosted by Oregon Humanities as part of the Oregon Book Festival. I adore Turn! Turn! Turn! and this will be my first time on the stage there (aside from some questionable karaoke). I’m excited!

Portland: November 2 at the Portland Book Festival! One of my favorite events of the year. The line-up is always inspired. Join me! When I’m not reading in the museum, I’ll be in the audience. We can fan-girl together!

Thank you for reading!