the hollowness of awards
Well hello, blog, old friend. (Can’t really say that with a straight face.) (Or: can’t say something without feeling self-conscious enough for a disclaimer? Hm.) (Getting off topic.) – It’s been a while… I don’t know why I go through periods where I don’t really write. I guess the usual suspects (read: stressors), remunerative work being a major one. I think if I had my ideal life… I’d just have time. Time to do nothing, time to read, think, write. Gosh. I really need to work on my getting-independently-wealthy-so-I’m-able-to-not-do-anything plan.
Well, anyway. Back to what I opened this to write, foreshadowed in the title. Among other things, one realization I had during the pandemic was how truly hollow awards felt to me. Maybe not always, but certainly at the time. Specifically I was reading about an instance of Zoom being awarded “App of the Year” – I think for 2020. And perhaps it was the contrast between that moment of socially-constructed glory and the incredible tragedy happening all around us, with thousands, now millions, dying, relentlessly, constantly, permanently, impersonally. Death, usually a world-shattering event of sorts, was everywhere. And the world wasn’t shattering because of it – it was just going on. Each new day came, hundreds of thousands of people newly died, and the sun went on shining, setting, rising. The contrast between our situation and the relative calm of the natural world was disconcerting – and relieving, too, in a way.
But again off-topic, a bit. Back to the award. I wasn’t certain why I felt it to be a little hollow when I read the thing about Zoom – certainly it wasn’t a thought I’d had prior, so it wasn’t one I’d been anticipating. (In other words, it wasn’t a case of preconceived politics overlaying an experience. I’m not anti-award, or whatever the term would be.) I didn’t think about awards that often at all, actually. Thus my opinion was the same sort of ambiguous acceptance you have towards all societal institutions that you don’t really have cause to sit down and think deeply about: “oh, yes, that exists, and it serves a purpose that’s arguably good enough for its continued existence.” But now something has changed enough for me to devote an entire blog post – and, accordingly, a good amount of serious thought – to it.
So what was it that flipped that switch? I guess, as stated before, the contrast, partially. With millions dying, countries closing borders, AAPI hate crimes rising, Trump majorly fumbling the response, countries blaming each other – this was what the magazine chose to write about? This? This was what warranted space, time, energy, attention? In normal times, sure, an award might raise the value of the app, making it more sought-after, making its creators famous, etc. Sure, glory like that, no matter how socially-constructed or ultimately minimal, might be newsworthy. But right now?
Perhaps it’s related to this thing I heard about crisis awhile back: that crisis cuts out all but the necessities. (That word “essential” we’ve seen so often during the pandemic echoes in this thought.) But that’s no sort of way to live actual life. An apocalyptic mentality is for… well, apocalyptic situations. But I guess what happened was, the pandemic was laying bare so much of the problems that normally go under the radar, at least to those who aren’t directly impacted by them. Because no one was prepared and no one had any idea how to respond, because it was so once in a lifetime (or even less common than that), so many things became manifest and clear about the way we were equipped to handle tragedy of this scale. The blatant disregard for human life, arguably the most sacred thing of all, was on full display, and still is. (Could another crisis thought be related here – that in an emergency, someone’s “true colors” show? Not my thought, I mean, just something I’ve heard. Which I’d consider arguable, but don’t feel like going into that right now.)
So yes, the award felt hollow, because who cares if Zoom is the App of the Year since it’s the only one that was around to help people adjust to hunkering down in our homes? It’s not anything Zoom really did. It’s more like right place, right time – which happened to be a pandemic that is causing millions of deaths, and countless other types of destruction that are perhaps less quantifiable. If not for the pandemic, Zoom might not have gotten that award, right? It’s not a case of profiting off the pandemic, and it’s certainly not Zoom’s fault, but it’s kind of like… so, we have created a system that allows millions to die, but at least lets an app gain glory because of that? Is that supposed to be some kind of consolation? It’s kind of like how the wealth of CEOs was said to increase markedly during the pandemic. Sure, it’s not their fault or anything they did. But it is reflective of a system in which death and fear result in monetary gains for certain already-powerful groups. A system that is clearly not in the best interest of the people; only in the best interest of that select few at the top. It’s like the awarding is an attempt to distract from that. A frivolous and hollow veneer, instead of discussing the issues that really matter, that the pandemic is really showing us.
It’s not a triumph that Zoom is App of the Year. There’s no triumphs when it comes to 2020. We majorly fucked up. So many people have to live without parents, children, spouses, partners, siblings. Getting the American government to distribute aid to its citizens was like pulling teeth, and even then it was minimal. Why don’t we talk about that? Why don’t we give award for Least Competent Leaders of the Year? Why don’t we investigate more deeply who’s really at fault here? Who could have done better? And I’m not talking about the politicians or leaders who sincerely tried. I’m talking about the ones that were (and are) flippant towards mass death, eviction, economic ruin. You might as well call them serial killers, with this body count on their hands.
I suppose some of my anger about the way the pandemic was handled is coming to the fore. So sure, it’s not all about the award itself, nor about Zoom, nor even that publication (whichever one it was). But these things are all connected. Anyway. I guess it’s a case of the pandemic sort of showing me what’s important to me and what’s a little less important. What good is an award when millions of people have died? It really does feel so hollow. There’s something greater to learn from this – something more meaningful about life and death, something more serious about leadership, governance, and care for other people. Awards just feel so very frivolous in the face of all that.