For Hope, and Against Universal Despair, As 2017 Begins

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Well, the new year has arrived. People seem glum about it—especially here in Washington, where on the first day of the year and the last day of the season, the Redskins lost to the New York Giants and therefore missed the playoffs. One quarter of the front page of the Monday Washington Post was taken up by a photo of morose fans and an article headlined “End of the season, ‘end of the world.'” Subhead: “Redskins’ hopes dissolve to despair with loss of Giants.”

But I’m reacting against the universal despair (plus, I’ve never become a Redskins fan anyway, and the Packers are in the playoffs, so we don’t have to contend with a suicidal Steve Hayes this week). I have a contrarian suspicion that 2017 may turn out to be a pretty good year. Whatever Trump’s merits or demerits as president turn out to be, could it be the case that his election victory itself breaks things loose in a promising way, in terms not just of policy but of the culture? Some of the good things that happen may do so in reaction to Trump (his vulgarity, his failure to understand the case for limited government, etc.) rather than in accord with his example, but they might happen nonetheless. Or so I hope. And if you can’t be hopeful on January 1, when can you be?

By the way, if we can look back for a second at 2016—aren’t the lamentations about that year overdone? Isn’t all the talk about “who could possible imagine a worse year than 2016?” and the like, typical solipsistic Baby Boomer whining? I for one can imagine lots of worse years, including 1916 for starters. But think about 2008, with the financial crash, and the election of Obama, which one knew heralded a damaging expansion of the welfare and nanny state, and which one feared presaged a throwing away of the hard-won achievements in Iraq. I have my issues (as we say these days) with 2016, but all the wailing during its final weeks was surely overdone. Anyway, the battles of 2016 are over. The battles of 2017 are about to begin.

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