Fresno farmer sees nothing but bad due to COVID deaths, bitter politics, news overload

Bad has taken over my life. Every day I hear bad news. These stories describe bad actions, bad people, bad outcomes. They dominate the news cycle and overwhelm my senses. This is the power of bad.

The information world we live in churns with things that are “bad.” Accidents, death, crime, confrontational politics, threats, attacks, natural disasters, suffering. We pay attention to these stories more than those about lighter, more positive takes on life. Bad attracts and captures our attention. “If it bleeds, it leads.”

The pace of bad increases with new media and technology. We race to see, hear and read the latest hot negative story. We check our phones, get alerts and texts, and then we share bad. We interrupt conversations to be notified of the next bad thing, blurring fact and fiction and building exchanges on the most recent wretched posting without vetting it for accuracy.

In a dash to be the first, news outlets sprint to get the next bad news out as soon as possible. Often mistakes in stories are ignored; being first matters the most. Sensationalism soars and thrives, boosting ratings and viewership. Dramatic angles, immediate reactions, emotional triggers, all ingredients to capture our attention as we hunger for more. Conflict rules over cooperation. Meanwhile, the truth can be lost in this sprint. Facts are twisted by the whirl and pace of the race. Journalists struggle in a world that doesn’t seem to want veracity, verification and evidence.

We reward the bad. People respond quicker to bad, a negativity bias reinforcing our hunger to hear more and remember the bad more than the good. For example, research shows Facebook postings tend to be about the most negative stories: people share the worst.

Psychologists theorize that our ancestors survived because of this acute awareness of bad. Those who paid attention to danger survived by not getting eaten. Some psychologists concluded most people believe they are better off than the average. Thus they see things negative against a light background, accentuating the lines between the bad and our “good” lives. Our brain senses a rush of energy with the problems of others. We are consumed by the bleak around us.

So I too fall prey to the gloom. I look to see other places where COVID is worse than our Valley. I watch political fights in D.C. like a sports event, rooting for one side, as if policy isn’t about real people and real results that impact our communities. When I hear about violent crime, I can’t help but look for videos and visuals that capture the worst of human behavior. I have even found it more entertaining to root against sports teams, looking for a dramatic loss or upset, paying jaundiced attention to the somber fourth-place finisher at the Olympics who just missed getting a medal and years of work lost in a split second. I am sick and trapped. And doesn’t this make for a better story to read?

Without a doubt, we have lived in a terrible era, from an economic recession in 2008 to the current pandemic that refuses to end. Bad has ruled for decades: we witnessed the collapse of the Twin Towers, foreign wars fought for a generation, financial chaos dominating life, and now illness and death stalking every family and community. We have grown accustomed to the bad as normal.

The first step to overcoming my pessimism is to recognize the power of bad. Now I strive to cope and work my way out of this cynical state of mind. It may begin with conversations and listening, engaging with others and reaching out for exchanges — all parts of a healthy social life the pandemic destroyed with our required quarantines and the demands of social distancing. To replace the bad news with a smile and a friendly voice. Escape the computer screen and the barrage of text alerts. Interact with a real human with emotions

Or not. I find it easier to try and wait out this depression. Hide. Isolate. Withdraw. Practice not social distancing but physical distancing. The few highlights of the last months have been when I did interact with others in a genuine exchange. Yet I quickly felt a social fatigue and exhaustion; my social muscles need time to get back into shape.

I began withdrawn, hiding in the shadows of the dim and dreary. Bad forces me to run and hide. But sadly I realize, I’m not alone.