Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
Nothing stands still but few like change. So I thought I might write about this phenomenon. Perhaps the nostalgia for our youth stems from this fact? An anchor point in our lives, against the tempest of life. Which is strange, as childhood itself is a period of great flux, forever changing and yet something we often look back on as a singular experience. The watershed to adulthood is such a significant one that we classify all before as an age of innocence or freedom with little responsibility (though for some, adulthood will come as a relief). Of course, all those neural pathways still retain some flexibility in the first chapter of our lives, slowly setting to define our behaviour, our likes and dislikes. From then on we are hardwired for life! As it becomes harder for us to change, do we find it harder to accept change?
For me, born and raised in a village, its ideal size and layout was as it was during my childhood. I curse and recoil at the excessive building taking place now, covering familiar fields with soulless housing estates, adding more traffic to the already busy roads. Yet the street I lived in arose from its own field a mere decade before my birth; a change and imposition on residents of old. Their changing world was my familiar one, just as it will be for the next generation.
Sometimes it feels like little changes except the way we look at things. My childhood thrived under the shadow of possible Armageddon from nuclear war, regular terrorist attacks or the Middle East in turmoil. That was the 1970s/80s and I barely spared a thought to the gloom, more interested in my bike and football. Yet with the same cast of threats today, a more mature eye views them with far more concern. Of course, the players have changed, the stage scenery replaced, the roll of the dice still surprising us, but the stage itself remains uncomfortably familiar. Change takes place but baggage gets carried forward.
There are two types of change: creative or destructive. You have something new revolutionising the way things are done or you have to give up on a tradition or practice. One often precipitates the other. Each generation struggles to understand the new; lamenting the old. But in truth change is never one dimensional. Doors open and doors close. A mere seventy years ago divorce was frowned upon, most families attended church and the local phone box was an essential commodity for the neighbourhood. Today divorce is common and hardly noticed by others, church attendance is at its lowest ever and the phone box is all but extinct. As a result society’s moral compass flounders, the dysfunctional family is the norm, communities lack cohesion and there is a sparsity of strange red booths. But every story has more than one side. People don’t have to be locked in loveless, often abusive marriages, the church no longer controls people’s lives, condemning the different, and new technology has emerged to allow people to connect more easily. That is a rather simplistic take on matters, but you get my point. We might want to revert to an age of pre-smart phones to escape the trolls and addictive zombification, but do we want to give up the app that orders our shopping or tells us when our train is late?
Change is rarely under our control. Even decision-makers at the highest level bend to the whims of nature or other forces. The Covid pandemic brought significant changes, its ripples still impacting across the world. When we’re not in control we get stressed. But its important we challenge change constructively. The general mood after the Covid lockdowns is it caused terrible damage to our economy and wasn’t worth it. When a new pandemic comes along will the government possess the nerve to implement robust public health procedures to ensure lives are saved or swing to the other extreme, protecting the economy at the expense of lives? Strong arguments will be made for both sides, but managing change often requires a more nuanced approach, finding a way for the economy to function differently while keeping disease at bay. Change to face a change. Not easy. Compromise often results in upsetting everyone.
Tough choices need to be made due to climate change. Enforced change will be necessary to alter behaviours and people will complain, grumble and revolt because they don’t like loss. But the consequences of not changing will be catastrophic. It’s like telling a heavy drinker to stop before they damage their liver and kill themselves. Their social life is built around drinking, they like their tipple, it gives them confidence and makes them funny. But if they achieve this tough ask, they may suddenly realise how much better they feel, how dependent they had become on alcohol, or how shallow and inappropriate some of their behaviour was when drunk. Suddenly, they have more energy and a new outlook on life, enjoying better relationships. Then, as proponents of change, they urge others to follow their example, only to discover cultural and social pressures undermine them, words don’t convince, and another generation learns the hard way.
One thing is certain, change, and the worry it brings, will never change!
Nathaniel M Wrey