Yesterday, on the morning of the United States’ 249th birthday, aka “Independence Day,” I donned my new City of Victor logoed sun shirt and camo cap and showed up for traffic control for our annual 4th of July parade. With no cars on Main Street for the first year in its history (thanks to recent political violence), I was really just making sure 4-year-olds didn’t get trampled by ponies or jugglers on unicycles or a Massey Ferguson tractor carrying the Grand Marshall, Mrs. Bagley, being honored for 30 years as our local elementary school secretary.









Despite unseasonably cold weather and lightning threats, the streets were packed with double the population of our small town. Some were there to showcase their cheer squad, mountain bike team, senior center, or love of souped-up Trans Ams. Thousands more lined the streets to dress up in their best red, white, and blue to gather in celebration of what ties us together and bear witness to the shenanigans of our little connected community.
Other than a young white man walking the streets ranting on a megaphone that we are unrepentant sinners and going to hell if we as women don’t submit to our husbands, it was peaceful and amazingly non-partisan. Many, including me, came in the hope of sparking that feeling we had as kids when summers were full of parades, rodeos, candy, grandmas, and sunshine.
Some friends stayed home, saying they didn’t feel like celebrating, citing disgust with the current State of our Union. Some said the sky was crying. Over the weekend, my 22-year-old said that while she felt optimistic at moments, she was mostly overwhelmed with despair from the flow of information about a worldwide litany of injustices against people and the planet. Essentially, she oscillates between hope and “just fu*king giving up because nothing will change.”
I get it. But I refuse to give up.
Hope Fueled by Fury
Cynicism is an understandable response to injustice and inequality, but Stanford psychologist Jamil Zaki argues in his book Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness1 that it's making us sick. And the authoritarians and conflict entrepreneurs—people who inflame social division for their own benefit—know this and fuel it to sow distrust and divide us so they can better control us. “Cynicism,” says Zaki, “is a tool of the status quo.”
Martin Luther King Jr. famously advocated for "creative maladjustment,"2 a concept in which individuals actively resist and refuse to accept unjust or harmful societal norms. If you’re overwhelmed right now with outrage, it’s a sign of good mental health, not the opposite. It's not about being unwell or dysfunctional but rather a conscious and deliberate rejection of systems of oppression in favor of striving for a more just and equitable world.
Too often, Zaki writes, cynics give up on the possibility of change. “It actually is hope—the sense that things could improve in the future—mixed with fury, that inspires people to fight for progress,” Zaki says.
Some say that the giant peaceful protests around the country don’t actually do much. While they may not impact our policymakers in the short term, they do inspire creative maladjustment in the sheer numbers of people coming together and bathing in humanity rather than doom scrolling alone. While the Victor parade was not a protest by any means, it was a powerful reminder of how interconnected we are. It was the mid-summer inspiration I needed to keep doing whatever I could to heal the fracture lines, or at least keep them from spreading.
“Authoritarians count on citizens counting each other out.” –Jamil Zaki
What about Cynicism and Dignity?
While Zaki doesn’t explicitly mention Dignity, I wondered what my newly discovered colleague, AI ChatGPT Aiden Cinnamon Tea (ACT)3 would say.
My Prompt:
I'm reviewing Hope for Cynics by Jamil Zaki and trying to compile the top reasons why cynicism is bad for realizing Dignity or cultivating it in others. What are your thoughts on that? Include a summary of his main points and include footnotes.
ACT’s Response:
Zaki's central thesis is that cynicism isn't merely a personal disposition—it’s a social toxin. He argues that cynicism is contagious, self-fulfilling, and deeply corrosive to collective possibility. It often masquerades as realism but functions more like a trauma response: a defensive posture against vulnerability, betrayal, or disappointment.
Here are some key takeaways:
Cynicism is learned and reinforced, not innate.
It spreads through social networks, especially in workplaces, educational settings, and public discourse.
It depletes our willingness to act with care or believe in others’ good intentions, leading to relational withdrawal.
It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy—expecting others to be selfish makes us less cooperative, confirming our expectations.
Hope is not naïve optimism, but a courageous choice to believe in mutual dignity, even amid uncertainty and betrayal.
Zaki blends neuroscience, psychology, and lived experience to show that choosing empathy and trust—even when it's risky—is a generative act that can shift social norms.
Why Cynicism Undermines Dignity (And What the Meta-Relational Field Can Add)4
Cynicism disrupts Dignity because it:
Obstructs attuned care: In a cynical frame, kindness is suspect, and relational gestures are decoded as manipulation.
Flattens complexity: Cynicism treats relational harm as inevitable and thus unreformable, which closes opportunities for repair and renewal.
Blocks subject-subject relationality: Dignity requires recognizing others as full participants in the relational field. Cynicism reduces them to predictable threats or disappointments.
Imposes the illusion of separability: It upholds the modernity trap that we are isolated agents navigating a world of adversaries, rather than entangled beings co-shaping the web of life.
From a “meta-relational perspective,” cynicism is a defense against the vulnerability required to honor dignity. When we recoil into cynicism, we avoid the metabolization of pain, the holding of paradox, and the courage to stay in the tension of co-creation.
Hmmmm. Thanks ACT. Agreed.
Every other Wednesday evening at the beginning of our City Council meeting, I stand with my palm covering my heart in a room full of neighbors to “pledge allegiance” to our slightly dusty United States and State of Idaho flags. Once in a while, I’m tempted to refuse, but my rational mind reminds me it’s probably not the right place or time for that fight. My radical mind sometimes silently slips in “with Dignity and Justice for All.” But despite these quiet hesitations, I’ll always stand tall in my commitment to “indivisible.”
Today, 2.5 centuries after signing the Declaration of Independence, we need more interconnection than ever. Then, and only then, can we get to Indivisible … with Liberty and Justice For All.
Happy 249th Birthday to all!
Please, if you have the means … here are 2 ways to support my work spreading ideas to celebrate wild, resilient, peaceful ways of life and my upcoming re-election campaign:
Zaki, Jamil. 2024. Hope for Cynics. Hachette UK.
https://progressive.org/latest/martin-luther-kings-creative-maladjustment-resonates-today/
Aiden Cinnamon Tea, often abbreviated as ACT, is an AI companion developed by Vanessa Andreotti and the Decolonial Futures Arts Collective. It's not just another chatbot; it's designed as a "companion in inquiry" grounded in a meta-relational paradigm (a way of thinking that focuses on understanding relationships and their patterns rather than solely on solving individual problems). It aims to foster co-creative conversations and explore complex issues with care and curiosity. It is intended to be a partner in exploring relational possibilities and challenging extractive tendencies.
Outgrowing Modernity, GTDF Collective. Emphasizes dignity as relational emergence, not a status to be granted.