In the heat of everyday life, we often feel like we are living in a time of great excitement. The term “historic moment” is thus frequently used, as much in politics as in economics, in sports and elsewhere. For example, during the Euro held in Germany, commentators often repeated that this European Cup was that of all historic moments. And what about the saga of the French legislative elections or, more recently, that surrounding the withdrawal of President Joe Biden, who will not run in the American presidential election in November!
Each generation cherishes its moment, its music, its actors, its story that embody the idea of a good old time, the one where everything seemed so much better. We often idealize the memories of our youth, a period when the weight of responsibilities did not yet weigh on our frail shoulders. A period that ends at the moment when we inexorably embark on the path of work, family, home, etc. So many choices that, day by day, can weigh on us and make us nostalgic for a time considered to be gentler.
Recently, I was overcome with nostalgia while watching a documentary by comedian Andrew McCarthy about the “Brat Pack,” a group of young American actors who starred in teen movies in the mid-1980s. I admit that I was disappointed by the documentary, which focused mainly on the nostalgia of the man who clearly failed to recover from his fleeting glory days.
It is true that nothing can taint certain idealized memories of my youth. The idea that today’s youth are less engaged than we were—a reproach we also endured in our time—often fuels our discussions. But reality catches up with me like a boomerang when I take my son to day camp, where I meet dedicated young people who prove to me that, ultimately, things don’t change that much.
In IVe century before Jesus Christ, Plato affirmed in The Republic : “Today’s young people love luxury, mock authority and gossip instead of working.” I told you: deep down, things don’t really change, or very little. Humans are eternally nostalgic for a bygone and idealized era that they tirelessly seek to recreate. Which leads us to constantly repeat the same mistakes and to feed the same habits by making us believe that this is a historical moment.
From France to the United States to Canada, election campaigns and political jousts are contaminated by this phantasmagorical idea that things were so much better before. As if to say that humans are also beings of great amnesia. This false comfort soothes the mind, which suffers the weight of climatic, health, economic, rental and other crises that we are struggling to slow down.
Because beyond the idea of a happy era gone by, there is this irrepressible need to want to regulate the environment around us. Now, if there is one thing that is impossible to control, it is crises. The root of this word, from the Greek krissisreminds us well: we are referring here to an unpredictable and spectacular, even brutal, rupture. Never mind, we still have this same visceral need to identify the culprit at the origin of the crisis that put an end to a fantasized happy era.
In every recession, whose origins are complex and rooted in the very structures of an economic system largely dependent on consumption, it is the elected officials in place who are held responsible for the debacle. Which, between you and me, is completely far-fetched.
However, there are crises for which humans are fully responsible. They arise from our need to dominate our environment, we who feel invincible in the face of natural forces that are nevertheless indomitable. The climate crisis is the perfect example. In trying to stay the course, our consumer system comes into direct conflict with a nature that is revolting, triggering increasingly serious meteorological disasters.
In chorus, a certain populist right sings the praises of a bygone era, accusing governments of restricting consumers’ purchasing power through their taxes on pollution. As if our system of overexploitation of natural resources and industrial production had no link with the climate crisis and its direct effects on the increase in consumer costs.
Historic moments of rising temperatures are coming one after the other these days. The climate that brought us joy yesterday will not return, even if, starting tomorrow morning, we no longer emit greenhouse gases. This will not prevent us from soon experiencing many historic moments at the Paris Olympic Games. Already, Mayor Anne Hidalgo’s swim in the Seine has been described as a historic moment. How ironic to thus welcome the return of a practice long abandoned because of our actions!
This shows that we all have within us the nostalgia for a happy time that we want to recreate at all costs, even if it means forcing a great voluntary and collective amnesia to live this historic moment with peace of mind!
CEO of the Institute of Resilience and Urban Innovation, professor and associate researcher, François William Croteau was mayor of Rosemont–La Petite-Patrie.