Le Courrier
International fait la une de son numéro avec le suivant choix éditorial :
« Le
risque de pénurie alimentaire ».
Le stockage
et les achats dits « de panique », les problèmes de logistique et le
manque de main d’œuvre provoquent des réflexes protectionnistes des pays
exportateurs qui pourraient fragiliser les états les plus pauvres au détriment
d’une meilleure coopération internationale.
Dans cette
crise sanitaire, les messages politiques ont une importance particulière. Les politiques
doivent se réinventer face à ce tsunami que représente le Covid-19. L’attention
doit être portée sur le social, la solidarité, les inégalités.
Le 31 mars,
la FAO, l’OMC et l’OMS ont lancé conjointement un appel s’inquiétant de
possibles pénuries alimentaires à court terme. Les trois organisations
onusiennes, chargées respectivement de l’alimentation, du commerce et de la
santé, redoutent que la fermeture des frontières et les restrictions à l’exportation
des grands pays producteurs de riz, de blé et d’autres céréales ne provoquent
une flambée des prix et une crise qui n’a pourtant pas lieu d’être, une fois que
les récoltes ont été bonnes.
Le repli
plutôt que la coopération internationale, voilà où réside le problème. « Quand
la peur et le chacun pour soi gouvernent, le monde n’y gagne en général pas grand-chose.
D’autre part, en Europe, la fermeture des frontières a un impact sur les
agriculteurs, qui ne trouvent plus de main d’œuvre. Certaines récoltes sont
perdues, faute de ramasseurs. Du coup, certains pays incitent aujourd’hui les
consommateurs à manger local. Voilà peut-être l’occasion de repenser notre système
alimentaire. »
Mais il y a
un autre problème de taille et une autre urgence. Partout dans le monde, des
millions de personnes se sont retrouvées au chômage et la flambée des prix de
produits de première nécessité ne vient aucunement aider aux problèmes des
familles les plus démunies.
Ainsi avant
de passer à manger local, il faudra déjà pouvoir manger tout court !
For future reflexion,
this article :
*Gaslighting, if
you don’t know the word, is defined as manipulation into doubting
your own sanity; as in, Carl made Mary think she was crazy, even though she
clearly caught him cheating. He gaslit her.
Pretty soon, as the
country begins to figure out how we “open back up” and move forward, very
powerful forces will try to convince us all to get back to normal. (That never
happened. What are you talking about?) Billions of dollars will be spent on
advertising, messaging, and television and media content to make you feel
comfortable again. It will come in the traditional forms — a billboard here, a
hundred commercials there — and in new-media forms: a 2020–2021 generation of
memes to remind you that what you want again is normalcy. In truth, you want
the feeling of normalcy, and we all want it. We want desperately to feel good
again, to get back to the routines of
life, to not lie in bed at night wondering
how we’re going to afford our rent and bills, to not wake to an endless scroll of human tragedy on our
phones, to have a cup of perfectly brewed coffee and simply leave
the house for work. The need for comfort will be real, and it will be strong.
And every brand in America will come to your rescue, dear consumer, to help
take away that darkness and get life back to the way it was before the crisis.
I urge you to be well aware of what is coming.
For the last
hundred years, the multibillion-dollar advertising business has operated based
on this cardinal principle: Find the consumer’s problem and fix it with your
product. When the problem is practical and tactical, the solution is “as seen
on TV” and available at Home Depot. Command strips will save me from having to
repaint. So will Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser. Elfa shelving will get rid of the
mess in my closet. The Ring doorbell will let me see who’s on the porch if I
can’t take my eyes off Netflix. But when the problem is emotional, the fix
becomes a new staple in your life, and you become a lifelong loyalist.
Coca-Cola makes you: happy. A Mercedes makes you: successful. Taking your
family on a Royal Caribbean cruise makes you: special. Smart marketers know how
to highlight what brands can do for you to make your life easier. But brilliant
marketers know how to rewire your heart. And, make no mistake, the heart is
what has been most traumatized this last month. We are, as a society, now
vulnerable in a whole new way.
What the trauma has
shown us, though, cannot be unseen. A carless Los Angeles has clear blue skies
as pollution has simply stopped. In a quiet New York, you can hear the birds
chirp in the middle of Madison Avenue. Coyotes have been spotted on the Golden
Gate Bridge. These are the postcard images of what the world might be like if
we could find a way to have a less deadly daily effect on the planet. What’s
not fit for a postcard are the other scenes we have witnessed: a health care
system that cannot provide basic protective equipment for its frontline; small
businesses — and very large ones — that do not have enough cash to pay their rent
or workers, sending over 16 million people to seek unemployment benefits; a
government that has so severely damaged the credibility of our media that 300
million people don’t know who to listen to for basic facts that can save their
lives.
The cat is out of
the bag. We, as a nation, have deeply disturbing problems. You’re right. That’s
not news. They are problems we ignore every day, not because we’re terrible
people or because we don’t care about fixing them, but because we don’t have
time. Sorry, we have other shit to do. The plain truth is that no matter our
ethnicity, religion, gender, political party (the list goes on), nor even our
socioeconomic status, as Americans we share this: We are busy. We’re out and
about hustling to make our own lives work. We have goals to meet and meetings
to attend and mortgages to pay — all while the phone is ringing and the laptop
is pinging. And when we get home, Crate and Barrel and Louis Vuitton and Andy
Cohen make us feel just good enough to get up the next day and do it all over
again. It is very easy to close your eyes to a problem when you barely have
enough time to close them to sleep. The greatest misconception among us, which
causes deep and painful social and political tension every day in this country,
is that we somehow don’t care about each other. White people don’t care about
the problems of black America. Men don’t care about women’s rights. Cops don’t
care about the communities they serve. Humans don’t care about the environment.
These couldn’t be further from the truth. We do care. We just don’t have the
time to do anything about it. Maybe that’s just me. But maybe it’s you, too.
Well, the treadmill
you’ve been on for decades just stopped. Bam! And that feeling you have right
now is the same as if you’d been thrown off your Peloton bike and onto the
ground: What in the holy fuck just happened? I hope you might consider this:
What happened is inexplicably incredible. It’s the greatest gift ever
unwrapped. Not the deaths, not the virus, but The Great Pause. It is, in a
word, profound. Please don’t recoil from the bright light beaming through the
window. I know it hurts your eyes. It hurts mine, too. But the curtain is wide
open. What the crisis has given us is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see
ourselves and our country in the plainest of views. At no other time, ever in
our lives, have we gotten the opportunity to see what would happen if the world
simply stopped. Here it is. We’re in it. Stores are closed. Restaurants are
empty. Streets and six-lane highways are barren. Even the planet itself is
rattling less (true story). And because it is rarer than rare, it has brought
to light all of the beautiful and painful truths of how we live. And that feels
weird. Really weird. Because it has… never… happened… before. If we want to
create a better country and a better world for our kids, and if we want to make
sure we are even sustainable as a nation and as a democracy, we have to pay
attention to how we feel right now. I cannot speak for you, but I imagine you
feel like I do: devastated, depressed, and heartbroken.
And what a perfect
time for Best Buy and H&M and Wal-Mart to help me feel normal again. If I
could just have the new iPhone in my hand, if I could rest my feet on a pillow
of new Nikes, if I could drink a venti blonde vanilla latte or sip a Diet Coke,
then this very dark feeling would go away. You think I’m kidding, that I’m
being cute, that I’m denying the very obvious benefits of having a roaring
economy. You’re right. Our way of life is not without purpose. The economy is
not, at its core, evil. Brands and their products create millions of jobs. Like
people — and most anything in life — there are brands that are responsible and
ethical, and there are others that are not. They are all part of a system that
keeps us living long and strong. We have lifted more humans out of poverty
through the power of economics than any other civilization in history. Yes,
without a doubt, Americanism is a force for good. It is not some villainous
plot to wreak havoc and destroy the planet and all our souls along with it. I
get it, and I agree. But its flaws have been laid bare for all to see. It
doesn’t work for everyone. It’s responsible for great destruction. It is so
unevenly distributed in its benefit that three men own more wealth than 150
million people. Its intentions have been perverted, and the protection it
offers has disappeared. In fact, it’s been brought to its knees by one pangolin. We have
got to do better and find a way to a responsible free market.
Until then, get
ready, my friends. What is about to be unleashed on American society will be
the greatest campaign ever created to get you to feel normal again. It will
come from brands, it will come from government, it will even come from each
other, and it will come from the left and from the right. We will do anything,
spend anything, believe anything, just so we can take away how horribly
uncomfortable all of this feels. And on top of that, just to turn the screw
that much more, will be the one effort that’s even greater: the all-out blitz
to make you believe you never saw what you saw. The air wasn’t really cleaner;
those images were fake. The hospitals weren’t really a war zone; those stories
were hyperbole. The numbers were not that high; the press is lying. You didn’t
see people in masks standing in the rain risking their lives to vote. Not in
America. You didn’t see the leader of the free world push an unproven miracle
drug like a late-night infomercial salesman. That was a crisis update. You
didn’t see homeless people dead on the street. You didn’t see inequality. You
didn’t see indifference. You didn’t see utter failure of leadership and
systems.
But you did. You
are not crazy, my friends. And so we are about to be gaslit in a truly
unprecedented way. It starts with a check for $1,200 (Don’t say I never gave
you anything) and then it will be so big that it will be bigly. And it will be
a one-two punch from both big business and the big White House — inextricably
intertwined now more than ever and being led by, as our luck would have it, a
Marketer in Chief. Business and government are about to band together to knock
us unconscious again. It will be funded like no other operation in our
lifetimes. It will be fast. It will be furious. And it will be overwhelming.
The Great American Return to Normal is coming.
From one citizen to
another, I beg of you: take a deep breath, ignore the deafening noise, and
think deeply about what you want to put back into your life. This is our chance
to define a new version of normal, a rare and truly sacred (yes, sacred)
opportunity to get rid of the bullshit and to only bring back what works for
us, what makes our lives richer, what makes our kids happier, what makes us
truly proud. We get to Marie Kondo the shit out of it all. We care deeply about one another.
That is clear. That can be seen in every supportive Facebook post, in every
meal dropped off for a neighbor, in every Zoom birthday party. We are a good
people. And as a good people, we want to define — on our own terms — what this
country looks like in five, 10, 50 years. This is our chance to do that, the
biggest one we have ever gotten. And the best one we’ll ever get.
We can do that on a
personal scale in our homes, in how we choose to spend our family time on
nights and weekends, what we watch, what we listen to, what we eat, and what we
choose to spend our dollars on and where. We can do it locally in our
communities, in what organizations we support, what truths we tell, and what
events we attend. And we can do it nationally in our government, in which
leaders we vote in and to whom we give power. If we want cleaner air, we can
make it happen. If we want to protect our doctors and nurses from the next
virus — and protect all Americans — we can make it happen. If we want our
neighbors and friends to earn a dignified income, we can make that happen. If
we want millions of kids to be able to eat if suddenly their school is closed,
we can make that happen. And, yes, if we just want to live a simpler life, we
can make that happen, too. But only if we resist the massive gaslighting that
is about to come. It’s on its way. Look out.
Article
from Julio Vincent Gambuto, published in FORGE.MEDIUM.COM
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