Believe it or not, we’re only two weeks into the new year. It should be a time of rejuvenation and optimism, but, instead, it feels like we’re slogging through a daily assault from our news feed. This article isn’t about the latest authoritarian outrage du jour, nor is it about any kneejerk leftwing response. This article is for everyone else, everyone who is simply trying to go about their lives with a modicum of stability.
The past week, I’ve been repeatedly finding myself in my kitchen with my hand in a box of cereal, without knowing how I got there. But when I replay the sequence of events, there’s a pattern. One moment I’m reading about the President threatening a political adversary or an island nation, and the next thing I know, I’m in the kitchen. I don’t pass “Go.” I don’t collect $200. I just go directly to carb loading. The only thing worse than doom scrolling is doom binging.
The healthier response might be to avoid reading or watching the news, to avert our gaze until things return to normal. But that assumes that things will in fact return to normal, and there’s no guarantee. We are in uncharted territory, at least in this country. In Venezuela, there were years of acquiescence as Hugo Chávez transformed a wealthy democracy into a pariah state, and most of us know what happened to Germany in the 1930s.
I’m not saying that we’re headed in the same direction. I’m just saying that it’s a possibility, and the notion that it’s even a possibility is unacceptable. It should be inconceivable, and we owe it to ourselves to make it so. It’s our obligation to stay informed, to be vigilant, and to speak out. And to teach our children to speak out against arrogance, greed and cruelty, of any political persuasion. We create the world we want to live in, with every word and action. As individuals we may seem vulnerable and powerless, but throughout history, it’s when the vulnerable stand together that tyrants are defeated – and would-be tyrants as well.
I’m not suggesting it’s easy. I started writing this column a week ago. Every time I sat down to write, I got up to eat. (There’s a theme here.) I wanted to avoid this topic almost as much as I wanted to write about it. I’m guessing I’m not the only one experiencing an internal tug of war about engaging with the deluge of unsettling headlines, but since I have subscriptions to nine newspapers, I seem to be glutton for punishment. However, being a news junkie (by trade and predilection), I have a couple hacks that might be helpful in this era of media overload:
1. For starters, I don’t read any articles about news that’s going to happen in the future. Reporters don’t have crystal balls, so anytime they’re writing about events that haven’t yet occurred, it’s merely speculation. If it’s about potential Oscar nominations, it’s relatively harmless, but when it comes to government actions, there’s more than enough actual news to fret about without worrying about what’s to come.
2. I don’t read any articles about social media posts. I don’t need to know what random thought the President (or his digital communications lackey) had at 3 a.m., and trust me on this, you don’t either. If you’re a fan, you can follow the account directly, and if you’re a foe, you don’t need the additional agitation.
These kinds of articles are empty calories, and they deplete our limited time and mental stamina. They exist largely because they’re clickbait. It turns out that despite our protestations, we often enjoy getting riled up. We often choose to feel victimized. But if you’re tempted to feel sorry for yourself in this new year, I recommend reading The New Yorker essay by the late Tatiana Schlossberg, who died December 30th.
Ms. Schlossberg, the daughter of Caroline Kennedy and granddaughter of President John F. Kennedy, found out she had leukemia immediately after giving birth to her own daughter in 2024. Rather than being home with her newborn and two-year-old son, she spent the next year and a half mostly in medical facilities, enduring bouts of repetitive surgeries and ravaging chemo that failed to buy her additional years with her young family.
It’s so easy to think we have it hard, to imagine that others’ lives are easier. We see this play out politically in red and blue states, as people dwell on injuries in the past and fears of the future rather than gratitude for what they have.
“Being in the present is harder than it sounds,” Ms. Schlossberg wrote. It seems especially so right now, but her eloquent yearning for her loved ones reminds us how fortunate we are for whatever fleeting time we are granted. So let’s be grateful in addition to vigilant. Let's be the leaders we need in 2026.
Devan Sipher can be reached at Devan@SMDP.com.