Basically, this is the great lure of democracies: you are handed a ballot paper and you have the impression of having the destiny of a nation while standing still. The status quo is an extremely heartwarming posture, especially when changes have been thrust into you for 18 months. I left the polling station – in advance, because an anxious woman always anticipates – with a slight annoyance, certain of winning my elections. I voted “strategically”, but not as Mr. Legault would have liked. There was not even a Green candidate in my constituency, which would have been a logical choice if it had not been for Mr.me Paul on the distinct status of Quebec.
I didn’t feel like I was choosing, I voted “against” by hating my choice. I was on my X without being there. I have thought a lot about the notion of choice since this X. If among the great injustices of life, you don’t choose the geography of your landing, nor your family, nor the size of your nose, you don’t choose much more. , besides, except between the creamy or the traditional.
I very much appreciated the question of the solidarity member Catherine Dorion to the Minister of Transport, François Bonnardel, last week: why the CAQ preferred to “choose” the 3e link rather than daycare centers (implying that the CAQ was encouraging people to vote for the Conservatives who would tear up the 6 billion check intended for childcare centers)? “The CAQ had to choose between people, families, and concrete. She chose concrete. Why ? The minister’s response, in short: the polls; it was Mr. Tremblay, from Lévis, who chose the third link.
The people are you and me. The people shoot themselves in the foot and do not make the first link, that between the environment, the solo car in an SUV and short-sighted policies, the one that every politician should put forward in the form of a vision of the future if we had one.
Between the plague and the cholera
In a text on free will, desire and freedom published in the latest magazine New project devoted to choice, playwright Évelyne de la Chenelière mentions a subterfuge used by all parents. When she orders (I know, we don’t say that anymore, we suggest, we encourage, we negotiate, we waste a lot of time too) her child to go to bed, she lets him choose the pajamas, a way like a another to give it back power.
“Come to think of it, it’s announcing to the death row inmate that he can choose between lethal injection and the electric chair. »Or for those who have seen the film Sophie’s choice, choose between hell or gemonies, between his boy and his girl.
What perhaps lies in wait for us above all, in a world where the possibilities are limitless, is a generalized superficiality.
Without going to the ultimate torture, this is where almost all my elections have led me: choosing between plague and cholera. But during this time, the house is on fire. You have the choice of weapons – plastic sword, metal watering can – but not the battle. And the biggest fight to be fought is against inertia.
Less than 60% of Canadians voted on Monday. The balance of power is elsewhere, in this inaudible mass which chooses to wash its hands of the Purell or which simply no longer believes in it. And I don’t blame them in any way.
My French lover who does not have the right to vote here often tells me that “to choose is to give up”. Indeed. But capitalism made us believe that we could have it all, or dream it all, which sometimes amounts to the same thing.
“Capitalism has succeeded in attaching, in our minds, freedom to abundance,” continues de la Chenelière. The more choices there are, the more our sense of freedom grows. […] To buy is to vote. She notes that the only freedom that is granted to her is that of selecting thanks to her purchasing power. “I don’t want this freedom. We have so little choice in reality, and to have too much is to confront an anxiety dissected in The paradox of choice, by psychologist Barry Schwartz, who sums it up as follows: “The more choices people have, the more they are free, the more they are free, the more they feel well-being. ” In theory. In practice, we are crippled by too many choices. And very unhappy to never achieve perfection.
Freedom, I write your name
What do the conspirators and other supporters tell us? Maxime Bernier, if not that they want to remain free to “their” choices in a system which nevertheless gives them a very appreciable safety net, including a one-way ticket to intensive care regardless of their convictions.
“The irony being of course that this freedom carries with it its own imperative: the obligation to take advantage of it”, underlines Nicolas Langelier in his introductory text of New project, “The depth of our days”, where he explains how we have become “liquid”, moving, changing:
Alas! when I talk to you about myself, I am talking about you.
“Shop around. Snooping around. Surf. Swiper to the left. Become a “digital nomad”. Evaluate your options. Return to the home menu on Netflix. Check out the recommendations on Amazon. Order a survey. Order another drink. Test the waters. Hire a consultant. Send a short private message at 12:47 a.m. as a test balloon. Always be post-something, pre-something. Swiper to the right. Put something on while waiting. Wait a little longer. Go back to shop. “
Our prime existences border on pathos when we examine them closely. And I’m not even talking about the FOMO turned into JOMO (joy of missing out), the fear of missing something mutating into the pleasure of no longer having to choose thanks to the pandemic.
They say happiness is a choice. Recently a friend asked me if I am happy. I could have quoted Victor Hugo: “No one is happy and no one is triumphant. The hour is incomplete for all. I am part of the world, I am part of your choices and you are part of mine. And I regularly choose kindness and cordiality – a form of resistance not to be confused with politeness, softness and docility – over hatred and indifference. I choose to speak because I am granted the right. So, yes, maybe I can count myself happy to still have this freedom.
But be satisfied with it? No.
Because you are me. I do not have a choice.
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