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The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon: A Graying American Looks Back at His Suburban Boyhood and Wonders What the Hell Happened
One of the New Yorker's Best Books of 2022Bill McKibben—award-winning author, activist, educator—is fiercely curious. “I’m curious about what went so suddenly sour with American patriotism, American faith, and American prosperity.”Like so many of us, McKibben grew up believing—knowing—that the United States was the greatest country on earth. As a teenager, he cheerfully led American Revolution tours in Lexington, Massachusetts. He sang “Kumbaya” at church. And with the remarkable rise of suburbia, he assumed that all Americans would share in the wealth.But fifty years later, he finds himself in an increasingly doubtful nation strained by bleak racial and economic inequality, on a planet whose future is in peril.And he is What the hell happened?In this revelatory cri de coeur, McKibben digs deep into our history (and his own well-meaning but not all-seeing past) and into the latest scholarship on race and inequality in America, on the rise of the religious right, and on our environmental crisis to explain how we got to this point. He finds that he is not without hope. And he wonders if any of that trinity of his youth—The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon—could, or should, be reclaimed in the fight for a fairer future.
224 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 31, 2022
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About the author
Bill McKibben
201 books808 followersBill McKibben is the author of Eaarth, The End of Nature, Deep Economy, Enough, Fight Global Warming Now, The Bill McKibben Reader, and numerous other books. He is the founder of the environmental organizations Step It Up and 350.org, and was among the first to warn of the dangers of global warming. In 2010 The Boston Globe called him "probably the nation's leading environmentalist," and Time magazine has called him "the world's best green journalist." He studied at Harvard, and started his writing career as a staff writer at The New Yorker. The End of Nature, his first book, was published in 1989 and was regarded as the first book on climate change for a general audience. He is a frequent contributor to magazines and newspapers including The New York Times, The Atlantic Monthly, Harper's, Orion Magazine, Mother Jones, The New York Review of Books, Granta, Rolling Stone, and Outside. He has been awarded Guggenheim Fellowship and won the Lannan Prize for nonfiction writing in 2000. He is a scholar in residence at Middlebury College and lives in Vermont with his wife, the writer Sue Halpern, and their daughter.
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July 9, 2022
Environmentalist Bill McKibben reminisces about his idyllic suburban upbringing during a time when it seemed that all might soon share in this prosperity. And, then . . .
. . . what the hell happened? How did we go from an America where that kind of modest paradise seemed destined to spread to more and more of the country to the doubtful nation we inhabit fifty years later: a society strained by bleak racial and economic inequality, where life expectancy was falling even before a pandemic deepened our divisions, on a heating planet whose physical future is dangerously in question?
In this short book, he explains how we went from a glorious past where it seemed possible for everyone to have "A chicken in every pot and a car in every garage" to a country where the average worker takes home less money in real terms than they did in the late seventies. His essays are sobering, and bleak. Did you know that February of 1985 was the last year in which our planet had a cooler-than-average month?
Sigh . . .
My only quibble is that McKibben, who's only a year older than myself, didn't provide a few more childhood memories. I had hoped to bask in his nostalgic glow . . .
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for graciously allowing me to read this.
. . . what the hell happened? How did we go from an America where that kind of modest paradise seemed destined to spread to more and more of the country to the doubtful nation we inhabit fifty years later: a society strained by bleak racial and economic inequality, where life expectancy was falling even before a pandemic deepened our divisions, on a heating planet whose physical future is dangerously in question?
In this short book, he explains how we went from a glorious past where it seemed possible for everyone to have "A chicken in every pot and a car in every garage" to a country where the average worker takes home less money in real terms than they did in the late seventies. His essays are sobering, and bleak. Did you know that February of 1985 was the last year in which our planet had a cooler-than-average month?
Sigh . . .
My only quibble is that McKibben, who's only a year older than myself, didn't provide a few more childhood memories. I had hoped to bask in his nostalgic glow . . .
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for graciously allowing me to read this.
June 25, 2023
Bill McKibben has written, as he puts it, "as much of a memoir as (he's) ever likely to write", and it is equally or even more so, a commentary on the course of the United States over the last 50+ years. Bill is one year younger than I am, so many of his memories resonate with me: like him, I was involved in raising the flag at a Bicentennial event on July 4th, 1976; like him, I watched the 1980 election play out and result in Reagan's come-from-behind victory; like him, I watched with growing alarm as the country did essentially nothing about climate change; like him I was horrified and astonished when Trump was elected president.
Unlike Bill, I did not see, in 1980, the long-range effects that Reagan's ascendance would have on politics and the country. I supported Reagan; it was not until I was forty years old that I grasped how bad the policies set in motion by Reagan had been for the country. But I did have a sense, in the 1980's, that the sense of community that I had taken for granted as a kid in the 1960's and '70's was fraying, and individual success was being unduly emphasized at the expense of our society. By the way, I came by this inability to understand Reagan clearly as a young man because I grew up in an ultra-conservative area of Florida, but still. The signs were there.
McKibben explores the history of the US, and how honest treatment of the effects of slavery were excluded from the history he and I learned as children, and talks about the importance of the 1619 Project, and how the 1960's was an opportunity to make real change in the way Black people were treated in America. He remembers, as I do, the feeling of loss when RFK was killed, just months after MLK's assassination, and how that felt like the closing of an era, and it was. He talks at length about how the American suburb, which took off in earnest in the late '60's and '70's helped isolate Americans from each other, and led to the diminishment of community involvement and increased segregation and class divides. Basically, white suburbanites were unwilling to allow lower income, higher density housing into their neighborhoods because of the possibility that such housing would negatively impact home values, and government was unwilling to force the issue. McKibben also points out something I've thought about for a long time, that home construction drives an unhealthy portion of GDP, and the $33 trillion USD of value that Americans have accumulated in residential property is probably too much. As someone who has worked in the manufacturing sector for 34 years, and as a former resident of Germany, I understand how much more powerful a manufacturing economy is in terms of generating high-paying jobs for workers, as compared to home-building, which is often a race to the bottom on wages.
McKibben, a devout Methodist, advocates for mainstream churches to adopt something like the role played by some churches in Latin America in opposing oppressive regimes. He maintains that Christianity, if taken seriously, is better suited to opposition than to conformance with business-as-usual or conservative ideology. Maybe he's right; certainly mainstream religions would be a lot more relevant to young people if they were pushing hard for the kind of change that is needed in the world, as Dr King did, as Oscar Romero did.
Finally, Bill addresses the economy, and describes the wave of deregulation that followed Reagan's election, and how the GOP drove hard in the wrong direction, pushing oil production and starving R&D in solar energy, and how tax cuts accelerated inequality, and how the lie about tax cuts goosing the economy continues to be spread, when all those cuts really do is reward the donors of the GOP. So now we are at least ten years behind where we might have been with regard to decarbonizing in the US, and there are knock-on effects elsewhere; China might not have chosen to go with coal in such a big way if solar panels had been at their current level of efficiency 15 years ago, and that's just one example. But we are where we are, and fortunately the Biden Administration is pushing decarbonization as hard as Congress will allow.
Bill's final section is a shout out to older Americans to get involved to try to force governments to do what we should have done years ago, and you have to hand it to Mr. McKibben, because he has walked the walk, while also talking the talk. He has been arrested, he regularly receives death threats, but he continues to push for policies that will finally put us on a path to net zero carbon emissions. I have always liked his writing, but I now have an appreciation of him feels like admiration.
Unlike Bill, I did not see, in 1980, the long-range effects that Reagan's ascendance would have on politics and the country. I supported Reagan; it was not until I was forty years old that I grasped how bad the policies set in motion by Reagan had been for the country. But I did have a sense, in the 1980's, that the sense of community that I had taken for granted as a kid in the 1960's and '70's was fraying, and individual success was being unduly emphasized at the expense of our society. By the way, I came by this inability to understand Reagan clearly as a young man because I grew up in an ultra-conservative area of Florida, but still. The signs were there.
McKibben explores the history of the US, and how honest treatment of the effects of slavery were excluded from the history he and I learned as children, and talks about the importance of the 1619 Project, and how the 1960's was an opportunity to make real change in the way Black people were treated in America. He remembers, as I do, the feeling of loss when RFK was killed, just months after MLK's assassination, and how that felt like the closing of an era, and it was. He talks at length about how the American suburb, which took off in earnest in the late '60's and '70's helped isolate Americans from each other, and led to the diminishment of community involvement and increased segregation and class divides. Basically, white suburbanites were unwilling to allow lower income, higher density housing into their neighborhoods because of the possibility that such housing would negatively impact home values, and government was unwilling to force the issue. McKibben also points out something I've thought about for a long time, that home construction drives an unhealthy portion of GDP, and the $33 trillion USD of value that Americans have accumulated in residential property is probably too much. As someone who has worked in the manufacturing sector for 34 years, and as a former resident of Germany, I understand how much more powerful a manufacturing economy is in terms of generating high-paying jobs for workers, as compared to home-building, which is often a race to the bottom on wages.
McKibben, a devout Methodist, advocates for mainstream churches to adopt something like the role played by some churches in Latin America in opposing oppressive regimes. He maintains that Christianity, if taken seriously, is better suited to opposition than to conformance with business-as-usual or conservative ideology. Maybe he's right; certainly mainstream religions would be a lot more relevant to young people if they were pushing hard for the kind of change that is needed in the world, as Dr King did, as Oscar Romero did.
Finally, Bill addresses the economy, and describes the wave of deregulation that followed Reagan's election, and how the GOP drove hard in the wrong direction, pushing oil production and starving R&D in solar energy, and how tax cuts accelerated inequality, and how the lie about tax cuts goosing the economy continues to be spread, when all those cuts really do is reward the donors of the GOP. So now we are at least ten years behind where we might have been with regard to decarbonizing in the US, and there are knock-on effects elsewhere; China might not have chosen to go with coal in such a big way if solar panels had been at their current level of efficiency 15 years ago, and that's just one example. But we are where we are, and fortunately the Biden Administration is pushing decarbonization as hard as Congress will allow.
Bill's final section is a shout out to older Americans to get involved to try to force governments to do what we should have done years ago, and you have to hand it to Mr. McKibben, because he has walked the walk, while also talking the talk. He has been arrested, he regularly receives death threats, but he continues to push for policies that will finally put us on a path to net zero carbon emissions. I have always liked his writing, but I now have an appreciation of him feels like admiration.
June 17, 2023
"The stories in this book have mostly come from long ago, from the decade when I grew from ten [in 1970] to twenty [in 1980] . . . " -- from the concluding chapter, on page 201
When McKibben's The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon sometimes sticks to affable memoir-ish recollections or functions as a sort of history lesson - as he documents changes to his Massachusetts hometown and to the nation in regards to civics / patriotism, organized religion and suburbs (see the title) - it was a relatively good book. However, the author far too often delves into thick political commentary or 'my way or the highway' opinion to the point where it became distracting for me.
When McKibben's The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon sometimes sticks to affable memoir-ish recollections or functions as a sort of history lesson - as he documents changes to his Massachusetts hometown and to the nation in regards to civics / patriotism, organized religion and suburbs (see the title) - it was a relatively good book. However, the author far too often delves into thick political commentary or 'my way or the highway' opinion to the point where it became distracting for me.
April 11, 2022
Bill McKibben is one of my favorite humans on this planet (I think I write that everytime I review one of his books). He is a few years older than I am, but grew up not too far from where I did (he was in Lexington, MA, while I was in Somerville, MA). In this book, McKibben talks about how the world has changed since his childhood, and how his Baby Boomer generation has made a serious hash of things. Politics, religion, the environment...none of this is trending in a good direction here in the US of A (or around the world, really). Is it affluenza? Is it xenophobia and racism? Is it a failure of imagination? Human nature? I don't know. Like the author, I too have seen a lot of changes since my childhood, and while change is the only constant in life, technology, society, just about every damn thing is changing at a bewildering pace. It seems to me that people know more but care less these days. Maybe I am just getting old.
I, too, am a graying American, albeit one on the leading edge of Gen. X and not the trailing end of the Baby Boom, as Mr. McKibben is. With age come perspective, and one of the things that has changed for me is my politics. I was, for a long time, a Republican (admittedly a mild one). That shit is as dead as disco to me now: those people have lost their damn minds.
A good book, well-written and thought-provoking, as Mr. McKibben always is.
I, too, am a graying American, albeit one on the leading edge of Gen. X and not the trailing end of the Baby Boom, as Mr. McKibben is. With age come perspective, and one of the things that has changed for me is my politics. I was, for a long time, a Republican (admittedly a mild one). That shit is as dead as disco to me now: those people have lost their damn minds.
A good book, well-written and thought-provoking, as Mr. McKibben always is.
June 6, 2022
Oh, I love Bill McKibben! He gives me hope. Mr. McKibben has written about various aspects of his life over the years, but now this self-proclaimed "graying American" (Ha!) is connecting some of the formative events of his life to broader social movements in this country.
I was actually surprised to realize that Mr. McKibben has got less than a decade on me. (Yeah, I'm graying, too. What of it?). And the thing that accompanies age is perspective. But not only does he have perspective, he's had a front row seat to history. (And not for nothing, he's been consistently on the right side of it.) Through his decades of activism, Mr. McKibben has viewed our culture with clear eyes. I think both he and I share the hope that he's influenced it.
This is not a long book, and it's not an in-depth memoir, taking a more episodic approach to the material. But this is a truly elegant summation of the shifts and changes he's observed in our society--for better or worse--viewed through the lens of his lived experience.
Thank you, Mr. McKibben, for fighting the good fight!
I was actually surprised to realize that Mr. McKibben has got less than a decade on me. (Yeah, I'm graying, too. What of it?). And the thing that accompanies age is perspective. But not only does he have perspective, he's had a front row seat to history. (And not for nothing, he's been consistently on the right side of it.) Through his decades of activism, Mr. McKibben has viewed our culture with clear eyes. I think both he and I share the hope that he's influenced it.
This is not a long book, and it's not an in-depth memoir, taking a more episodic approach to the material. But this is a truly elegant summation of the shifts and changes he's observed in our society--for better or worse--viewed through the lens of his lived experience.
Thank you, Mr. McKibben, for fighting the good fight!
July 4, 2022
I started this book with the sneaking suspicion that it would not be for me in a number of ways. First, the genre. I've said before that I prefer straight nonfiction to memoir, and this is true. Second, the length. I need my nonfiction to be detailed with its fact or I sometimes get super distracted by questioning blanket statements. Third, the subtitle of "graying American" and "what the hell happened." I'm in my 20s and very tired of older generations talking about how my generation is at fault for so much.
I start my review with this because, well, it turns out that this book is not for me in the best possible way. Before I explain that, what it IS is an (admittedly short) memoir of the changes McKibben has seen in his life in 3 areas of American culture: patriotism (the flag), religion (the cross) and economics (the station wagon). I thought I would be most interested in his section on patriotism, as he relates it back to the strong Revolutionary War history he grew up around in Massachusetts, but in fact, I found the other two even more fascinating. For example, in The Cross section, McKibben (who is strongly Protestant) writes about how the decline in church membership has contributed to the rise of individualism in our society, but he also writes about how the church can get some members back by becoming more inclusive and getting back to the radical roots that made it such a big part of things like the Civil Rights Movement. The Station Wagon section gave me a more localized look at what Fiona Hill talks about in There Is Nothing for You Here: Finding Opportunity in the Twenty-First Century, which I highly recommend to anyone looking for more global data on the economic wealth/opportunity gap over the last several decades.
In the end, I say this book is not for me in a good way because McKibben is explicitly talking to other graying Americans in this book--and calling them to action. I don't think I've seen another book speak specifically to the generational gap that sometimes appears in our activism, and how important it is for people of his generation to step up to help fix the world that broke during their lifetimes. McKibben is, of course, focused on climate issues, but (as you see with the sections) he doesn't stop there. To anyone who also enjoys this book, I would highly recommend Evan Osnos's Wildland: The Making of America's Fury for a more micro look at the last 20 years that keeps the personal feeling McKibben captures so well in this.
I start my review with this because, well, it turns out that this book is not for me in the best possible way. Before I explain that, what it IS is an (admittedly short) memoir of the changes McKibben has seen in his life in 3 areas of American culture: patriotism (the flag), religion (the cross) and economics (the station wagon). I thought I would be most interested in his section on patriotism, as he relates it back to the strong Revolutionary War history he grew up around in Massachusetts, but in fact, I found the other two even more fascinating. For example, in The Cross section, McKibben (who is strongly Protestant) writes about how the decline in church membership has contributed to the rise of individualism in our society, but he also writes about how the church can get some members back by becoming more inclusive and getting back to the radical roots that made it such a big part of things like the Civil Rights Movement. The Station Wagon section gave me a more localized look at what Fiona Hill talks about in There Is Nothing for You Here: Finding Opportunity in the Twenty-First Century, which I highly recommend to anyone looking for more global data on the economic wealth/opportunity gap over the last several decades.
In the end, I say this book is not for me in a good way because McKibben is explicitly talking to other graying Americans in this book--and calling them to action. I don't think I've seen another book speak specifically to the generational gap that sometimes appears in our activism, and how important it is for people of his generation to step up to help fix the world that broke during their lifetimes. McKibben is, of course, focused on climate issues, but (as you see with the sections) he doesn't stop there. To anyone who also enjoys this book, I would highly recommend Evan Osnos's Wildland: The Making of America's Fury for a more micro look at the last 20 years that keeps the personal feeling McKibben captures so well in this.
May 31, 2022
I pounced on this book from Netgalley because of the author, Bill McKibben. I have read his work almost daily in the New Yorker for years. He has always had a rich, insightful take on American culture and politics.
The book, while very good, is not what I expected from the subtitle: “A Graying American Looks Back at His Suburban Boyhood and Wonders What the Hell Happened”. I interpreted that to mean that McKibben would be musing on his life, and the strange turns it took. Within the book, he refers to it as a memoir. It really is not.
Clearly, from very early in his life, the author has been ever conscious of the big picture, from the town green in the place he grew up, ever wider. His passionate engagement with his country, its ideals and its history led to his political engagement and activism. What he explores in this book is how the nascent country developed American ideas of fundamental rights and freedoms in parallel with American ideas of white supremacy and the entrenchment of disadvantage. He does this through the lens of his growing up, but that lens is visited infrequently, in passing. If you are looking for a detailed emotive autobiography, this is not it.
I have always wondered how Americans manage to exist in the cognitive dissonance of a “free” country which is just the opposite, and McKibben explains how they do so marvellously. It is also a call to arm for his readers.
Honestly, I highly recommend this book to anyone wondering why the US is like it is. He marshals facts and data to show his points very effectively and carefully credits his sources. He also makes suggestions as to where to look further. All of this in an immensely entertaining readable book.
The book, while very good, is not what I expected from the subtitle: “A Graying American Looks Back at His Suburban Boyhood and Wonders What the Hell Happened”. I interpreted that to mean that McKibben would be musing on his life, and the strange turns it took. Within the book, he refers to it as a memoir. It really is not.
Clearly, from very early in his life, the author has been ever conscious of the big picture, from the town green in the place he grew up, ever wider. His passionate engagement with his country, its ideals and its history led to his political engagement and activism. What he explores in this book is how the nascent country developed American ideas of fundamental rights and freedoms in parallel with American ideas of white supremacy and the entrenchment of disadvantage. He does this through the lens of his growing up, but that lens is visited infrequently, in passing. If you are looking for a detailed emotive autobiography, this is not it.
I have always wondered how Americans manage to exist in the cognitive dissonance of a “free” country which is just the opposite, and McKibben explains how they do so marvellously. It is also a call to arm for his readers.
Honestly, I highly recommend this book to anyone wondering why the US is like it is. He marshals facts and data to show his points very effectively and carefully credits his sources. He also makes suggestions as to where to look further. All of this in an immensely entertaining readable book.
July 5, 2022
McKibben raises a number of thought-provoking issues and connections I hadn't really considered, and because he's a near-contemporary of mine, they carry a particular resonance.
For example, I hadn't thought about how deeply connected real estate values are to the kind of upbringing and influences a child will have: McKibben's parents bought a home in Lexington, MA, in 1970, but if instead they'd been looking to buy just a few years later, the price might have been beyond their budget. He notes how being in that neighborhood gave him access to good schools and connections that eventually led to graduating from Harvard, and without that background, his life would have been very different.
He was shocked in his youth to learn about the hypocrisy of his fellow Lexington residents who talked the talk of providing more affordable housing, but then when it came time to vote on it, overwhelmingly defeated the measure.
The section on the cross, about the decline of Christian churches as builders of cohesive community, was of less interest but even here I found ideas new to me: McKibben acknowledges Christianity is now a minority religion in America (currently around 16%) but feels it can be even more effective at achieving social change than when it was more powerful and thus had more to lose by being radical.
I also appreciated his comments, regarding wealth inequality and seemingly out-of-control climate change, about how it was not inevitable; different people in power making different choices during the last few decades in our country could have led to substantially different outcomes.
This is only a very brief sampling; there's much, much more to ponder and discuss here.
For example, I hadn't thought about how deeply connected real estate values are to the kind of upbringing and influences a child will have: McKibben's parents bought a home in Lexington, MA, in 1970, but if instead they'd been looking to buy just a few years later, the price might have been beyond their budget. He notes how being in that neighborhood gave him access to good schools and connections that eventually led to graduating from Harvard, and without that background, his life would have been very different.
He was shocked in his youth to learn about the hypocrisy of his fellow Lexington residents who talked the talk of providing more affordable housing, but then when it came time to vote on it, overwhelmingly defeated the measure.
The section on the cross, about the decline of Christian churches as builders of cohesive community, was of less interest but even here I found ideas new to me: McKibben acknowledges Christianity is now a minority religion in America (currently around 16%) but feels it can be even more effective at achieving social change than when it was more powerful and thus had more to lose by being radical.
I also appreciated his comments, regarding wealth inequality and seemingly out-of-control climate change, about how it was not inevitable; different people in power making different choices during the last few decades in our country could have led to substantially different outcomes.
This is only a very brief sampling; there's much, much more to ponder and discuss here.
June 13, 2022
Just finished this book and I loved it! The author is a few years younger than I am, but I identify with so much he talks about. Plus he left us with some hope about what we can do to improve the future. Highly recommend.
July 11, 2022
With just the right balance of realism and idealism, McKibben charts a path for grappling with American history while demanding a future more aligned with the purported ideals of this country. He also offers a powerful critique of the American suburban lifestyle and its role in perpetuating racial and economic inequality. His latest focus on intergenerational collective action is particularly compelling.
August 6, 2022
What makes this book worth reading is not what McKibben says (his diagnosis of “what the hell happened” to America over the last half century treads familiar ground), but how he says it, and the clarity with which he connects dots. Those dots include the the decline in religious faith and rise of “hyper-individualism,” the explosion of America’s suburbs, and the overheating of our planet. I share McKibben’s politics, but even if I didn’t, I would still find his analysis sharp and persuasive, deftly interweaving personal anecdotes (as a teenager in Lexington, Massachusetts, McKibben’s summer job was wearing a tricorne hat and giving tourists to the Battle Green a “half-hour spiel” on the start of the American Revolution) with keen analysis. The most persuasive section is the last (“The Station Wagon”), where McKibben ties in environmental issues, his area of expertise.
I read this as I was finishing up The 1619 Project, and in many ways it felt like an extended personal essay from a white person responding to that book. (McKibben discusses reading it in these pages.) McKibben is up front about his privilege and his blind spots. “The affluent American suburb may be the greatest wealth accumulation engine of all time,” he says. Writing about the advantage his family had in owning a house on Middle Street in Lexington, McKibben notes that “the money my mother took out of it — tax free — when she sold it after my father’s death is what allowed her to move into a comfortable retirement community, which kept her safe during COVID. And it’s what allows me and my brother not to be paying for her support as she ages, so we can in turn pass more money onto our kids. That this is clearly unfair does not mean that my parents didn’t work hard their whole lives — they did. It doesn’t mean my brother and I haven’t worked hard — we have, and so have our kids. But it does mean we got an unearned boost the whole time: the economic wind was at our backs, the gravity of money was tugging in our direction. And others, because of the color of their skin, faced an unrelenting headwind.”
I read this as I was finishing up The 1619 Project, and in many ways it felt like an extended personal essay from a white person responding to that book. (McKibben discusses reading it in these pages.) McKibben is up front about his privilege and his blind spots. “The affluent American suburb may be the greatest wealth accumulation engine of all time,” he says. Writing about the advantage his family had in owning a house on Middle Street in Lexington, McKibben notes that “the money my mother took out of it — tax free — when she sold it after my father’s death is what allowed her to move into a comfortable retirement community, which kept her safe during COVID. And it’s what allows me and my brother not to be paying for her support as she ages, so we can in turn pass more money onto our kids. That this is clearly unfair does not mean that my parents didn’t work hard their whole lives — they did. It doesn’t mean my brother and I haven’t worked hard — we have, and so have our kids. But it does mean we got an unearned boost the whole time: the economic wind was at our backs, the gravity of money was tugging in our direction. And others, because of the color of their skin, faced an unrelenting headwind.”
July 30, 2022
This memoir is more political commentary than anything. While there are some good points sprinkled throughout the book, they're overpowered by unfair characterizations of the opposition, dubious arguments (often overly-simplistic), and some suspect logic. For every good point ("ouch, that's a good point and a hard truth") there were a few bad ("ouch, I think that argument is based on incomplete data or an overly-simplistic view of a complex situation.").
He basically re-hashes the typical progressive positions on hot-button topics while adding nothing new and unfairly representing the opposition. This strikes me, therefore, as an 'echo chamber' work, written for those who would agree with him anyway. Full review on my blog:
http://notesfromthefallen.blogspot.co...
He basically re-hashes the typical progressive positions on hot-button topics while adding nothing new and unfairly representing the opposition. This strikes me, therefore, as an 'echo chamber' work, written for those who would agree with him anyway. Full review on my blog:
http://notesfromthefallen.blogspot.co...
December 28, 2022
I deeply admire McKibben for his life pursuits, but I didn't enjoy reading this. To me it read like a summary of other thinkers who said it more comprehensively the first time. My favorite part, probably because it is the part I am least familiar with, was the section on the church. I think someone who is not as familiar with what is happening with race and climate change would enjoy this book more.
"The best way to predict how often a white evangelic will go to church is to note his score on an index of racial feelings. The more racist the more hours in the pews."
"Though only 15 percent of the population, evangelics represent a quarter of the electorate." (in the 2020 election)
"The best way to predict how often a white evangelic will go to church is to note his score on an index of racial feelings. The more racist the more hours in the pews."
"Though only 15 percent of the population, evangelics represent a quarter of the electorate." (in the 2020 election)
June 4, 2022
Not substantively "slim" at all, notwithstanding the faint praise in the Newspaper of Record's review, which I found superficial at best. Instead, I would describe it as a terse and tightly reasoned analysis of how the United States missed opportunities for vitally important social changes during the last four decades, with some concluding thoughts about a possible "Third Act"--future strategies for voters who care about these issues. A recommended read for anyone else who wonders what the hell happened.
January 9, 2023
A little over a year ago I started a writing project that was . . . well, ambitious. I created a Substack newsletter called The Mess We’ve Made to help me think through a problem that’s been obsessing me for years now: that is, how this country became such a colossal, stinking, terrifying mess over the course of my lifetime—considering how hopeful the future had seemed when I was a kid. Writing with the expectation of some kind of audience, however small, is the very best way to pin down and clarify one’s thinking, and my thinking about this issue felt, and feels, troubled and muddled. I wanted to read everything I could get my hands on about our political polarization, about how and why people define themselves as liberals or conservatives and then sort themselves into opposing tribes, and about American culture and politics in the last hundred years—and then write about it.
(“Ambitious” may not be the right word to describe this; it was presumptuous, considering I’m not a historian or philosopher or journalist or culture critic and I’d never published anything. But I’m unapologetic. I finished and posted a few fairly long essays about books that struck me as important, and then I kind of stalled; 2022 ended up being a lot busier than I expected. I haven’t abandoned this project, but my last post was in February—ten months ago.)
I’m a Boomer, born in 1953 during postwar euphoria and prosperity, and I grew up strongly and emotionally patriotic, and with a faith in a certain kind of progress that I seldom questioned. The 1960s and 70s certainly had their dark stories and headlines—JFK’s, RFK’s, and MLK’s assassinations, the war in Vietnam, race riots, the Manson murders, the OPEC oil crisis, stagflation, Watergate, the Iran hostage crisis, etc.—and yet, throughout this period, at least for young people, there was always a good deal of optimism in the air, in the culture, that was hard to shake, injected into our bloodstreams by TV and movies and music. The Jetsons, Star Trek, the Beatles, Woodstock, the Apollo program and the moon landing, freedom marches, the “I Have A Dream” speech, Kennedy’s inaugural address, "Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner," Gregory Peck’s Atticus Finch in "To Kill a Mockingbird," the successful protests against the war, the Voting Rights and Civil Rights Acts, Nixon’s resignation, even the cheesy sleekness of new car designs every year and cheesy ubiquitous advertising for absolutely everything—all, in their way, told a story that the world was getting better, and richer, was correcting its mistakes, was becoming more just and humane, was liberating itself, opening itself up, and that the future would be great.
Something else was almost universal: I and practically everyone I knew in high school just assumed that we were going away to college, to a university. We just took that for granted, and it had nothing to do with whether or not our parents had had college educations or even necessarily with how we expected to make our livings. We didn’t much consider whether or not we could afford it. Whether for good or ill, that was quite remarkable, and optimistic, and unprecedented. And, as we now see, perhaps economically unsustainable.
And the music, the soundtrack, was so damn good! Right now, as I’m writing this, I’m listening to John Coltrane’s My Favorite Things, an album released in 1961, and it sounds so confident and inventive, so adult and cheerful. Yesterday I resurrected Laura Nyro’s New York Tendaberry (1969) and the day before that Steely Dan’s Katy Lied (1975). Anyone my age could list hundreds of other brilliant albums from the 1960s through the 80s. How could a world with such great music, so much creativity, not be getting better all the time?
Ok, we were naïve. I certainly was naïve. But I wasn’t so ignorant of history and current affairs that I didn’t know about Jim Crow, about “the military industrial complex,” about all the forces of reaction out there. I knew about lynchings. I knew that the American story was not all valor, high-mindedness, and noble ideals. I knew—even though we didn’t think about it very much—that my family’s little Cape Cod box of a house was squatting on a tiny postage-stamp of Lenape land. I understood, when I was in high school, the possibility that I could soon be drafted and end up dying in some southeast Asian jungle. I knew that there had to be lots of people, like smug, supercilious Bill Buckley, standing athwart history yelling Stop. But I also just assumed—and it sounds so silly now, writing it out—that reactionaries were mostly old people, that they would all eventually die out, and that a generational tide of more freedom and justice was largely irresistible. Moreover, I assumed that this was an American tide—that, in addition to our Levis and music, we Americans were exporting democracy and freedom and justice to a benighted but receptive world.
That is, I fell for the myth surrounding “my generation.” I also fell for a lot of the myth of American democracy—which, we now see too clearly, is very fragile. When I was young I thought it was strong, durable, and protective, because it was what everyone (or almost everyone) wanted. I just assumed that we were somehow insulated from the worst forces of violence and injustice and reaction in the world because we had the vote, the Constitution, free speech, the Supreme Court, etc.
(But, in that sentence, “we” who? White we? And is it true that most people want democracy? True, no one wants to be dictated to, to be a slave or pawn, but democracy, it turns out, isn’t a spectator sport and demands more involvement and work than most people perhaps feel like contributing.)
The thing that galls me is knowing that lots of white Americans my age—other Boomers, who grew up in the same world I did and presumably watched the same TV shows and movies and listened to the same music—now tune in to Tucker Carlson every evening, wear their red MAGA hats in COSTCO, and would gladly vote for Trump again if they had the chance. Who are these people? They apparently got a memo that never hit my desk. And there’s no escaping it: if the world is a stinking mess, we Boomers made it so, or allowed it to become so, inadvertently or otherwise, because we’ve been in charge for the last 40 years. How did the Woodstock generation—all stardust, all golden, all billion-year-old carbon—end up with the world we have today, with such grotesque wealth inequality, with so much environmental destruction, with melting icecaps and the near prospect of submerged cities and coastlines all over the globe, with millions of desperately impoverished refugees on the move from continent to continent, with a Supreme Court actually canceling long-established human rights, with a new war in Europe savaging civilians, and with democratic decay and the near impossibility of getting any kind of popular legislation passed?
There are already a host of studies covering this territory: the history and legacy of the Baby Boom and the cultural and political history of the middle and late 20th century. I’m looking forward to Louis Menand’s The Free World: Art and Thought in the Cold War. (It’s a tome, however, so I’m procrastinating.) A couple of recent books by Millennials take their swipes at Boomers from the left and the right: respectively, Jill Filipovich’s OK Boomer, Let’s Talk: How My Generation Got Left Behind, and Boomers: The Men and Women Who Promised Freedom and Delivered Disaster, by Helen Andrews. I’ve heard both authors interviewed, so I already know their positions and I’m not rushing out to get their books.
And I should probably go back and read or reread those classics from the 70s: Tom Wolfe’s “Me Generation,” The Culture of Narcissism by Christopher Lasch, and both Slouching Towards Bethlehem and The White Album by Joan Didion. Obviously, there were people at the time who could already smell that some of the milk was curdling.
I lit up, however, when I discovered Bill McKibben’s The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon: A Graying American Looks Back at His Suburban Boyhood and Wonders What the Hell Happened. I respect McKibben, a long-time environmental activist and author and the founder of Third Act, a group to mobilize progressive Americans over 60. I lit up because McKibben is coming from a place kind of like mine. He’s white, a Boomer, a few years younger than me; he grew up in a moderately liberal household in a moderately prosperous suburb (Lexington, Massachusetts, in his case), he was raised both patriotic and Christian, and he’s never deviated from the fundamental idealism and belief in responsibility of his upbringing. This book was prompted by the same personal perplexity that I’m feeling: the stark contrast between the liberal optimism that permeated our suburban boyhoods and the world that we Boomers have created.
This is a short book, part memoir and part homily, and it’s divided into three sections. The first, “The Flag,” is about patriotism. McKibben insists, correctly, that there’s a good deal of radical egalitarianism implicit in the sweep of American history—The 1619 Project and our post-Reconstruction legacy notwithstanding. If progressives expect to get any good work done, they need to take patriotism and the flag back from the reactionaries who claim them as exclusive brands. (Indeed, it pisses me off to see Oath Keepers and their ilk with “We the People” tattooed on their forearms, as if fat middle-aged white guys with guns, in fake camo, held some kind of patent on the Constitution.)
In the second section, “The Cross,” McKibben reconciles his surviving Christian faith with progressive ideals, telling the story of the late Rev. Peter Gomes, whom he knew at Harvard. Gomes—professor of Christian morals at Harvard’s Divinity School and minister of the church at the center of the campus's Christian life—was for many years a Republican darling: black, but with patrician tastes and habits and conservative opinions, giving the benediction at Ronald Reagan’s second inauguration. But late in his career Gomes came out as gay and shifted his writings and rhetoric decisively against fundamentalist readings of the Bible and intolerance of all sorts. To McKibben, the trajectory of Gomes’ faith and activism are inspirational, proving no necessary contradiction between faith and an inclusive democracy.
This is not a particularly dense or weighty book, and the final sections—about the economics of suburbia and post-war American prosperity—are as close as McKibben gets to analysis. And though he covers no new ground here, it’s a story that bears repeating: that, despite the white Baby Boom’s professed idealism about race, its wealth is very much implicated in the racial inequities of real-estate economics. Our horrible inequality may have many causes, but it is indeed a function of how we use land, and of bad decisions made by our parents’ generation that we continue to make. There is something essentially rotten, corrosive, in the idea of suburbia, and that may be where the Boomers’ optimism was most misguided.
November 13, 2024
Bill McKibben is four years younger than I am, but he and I grew up in the same sort of world---with the flag, the cross, and the station wagon in the suburbs---and he and I are asking the same question: What the hell happened?
If you are wondering, too, what has become of the democracy, the religion, and the affluence that characterized the middle class of America not-so-long-ago, you might like to read this book.
If you are wondering, too, what has become of the democracy, the religion, and the affluence that characterized the middle class of America not-so-long-ago, you might like to read this book.
September 5, 2023
There is no great way to review Bill McKibben's book without a bunch of spoilers, but I imagine this is less of a concern for a non-fiction book as there's not really a plot (and the facts presented are discoverable by anyone) so I won't check the "Hide entire review because of spoilers" box. The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon is a meandering, part memoir, part treatise on the massive changes in America since the 1960's, but can generally be summed up according to the following:
* The fact that America even came about to be a separate country involved a massive compromise between abolitionists and slave owners, without which America wouldn't exist. The original sin of inequality has subsequently compounded itself over centuries as it's been codified into, for example, government policies (like the mortgage interest tax deduction) that preference the ownership of real estate over renting it. Although mathematically speaking, reparations would be the right technocratic answer, it's unclear how many Americans -- even those on the left -- would support them. This is tied to point number two, which is:
* America has grown substantially more hyper-individualistic in the last 40 or 50 years, accelerated in no small part by Reaganism. McKibben also bemoans the path(s) not taken by liberals, cut short by the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, which resulted in Nixon's election and a 5-4 stacked Supreme Court ruling (Martinez et. al.) that codified inequity in the education system (school funding based on local taxable revenue rather than allocation from a statewide or country-wide pool). (Sidebar: I'm not sure what to take away from McKibben's comments here except maybe assassinations do work as a conservative policy tool?)
* Although boomers get shit on a lot for enjoying the fruits of this inequality and failing to do anything about political polarization, the breakdown of a civil society, the destruction of the environment, etc. -- and McKibben doesn't shirk away from noting that these things did happen on the boomers' watch -- he inveighs them to become activists now at the end of their lives, to correct some of their wrongs now that they have less to lose. This is a novel proposition but also not one that I think will be heeded, for why should boomers who have lived in relative [suburban] comfort by way of ignoring most of these issues for decades now rise to the challenge?
* McKibben has spent his entire adult life being a climate activist and journalist but by his own admission, the effects have been negligible (he states that he would love to win a battle sometime, which is not an unfair observation).
That's about it for the material covered in the book -- there, I saved you a few hundred pages. Although McKibben makes some valuable arguments in it, it's marred by the fact that he has written it as a memoir, peppered with various anecdotes mostly from his childhood and seen through the lens of Lexington, MA, the upper-middle-class suburb where he grew up. The book as a whole feels rather directionless and much of his argument is covered elsewhere (see The 1619 Project for example), so overall it's a bit of a disappointing read. This is made more so by McKibben's own admission that much of his activism over the last half-century has really come to naught, because frankly, most people find activism around climate change to be boring and irrelevant to their daily lives, something that climate activists still haven't cracked.
So while I learned more than a few things from McKibben's book, I would really hesitate to recommend it to anyone, since I'm not sure what a general audience is meant to actually get out of it.
* The fact that America even came about to be a separate country involved a massive compromise between abolitionists and slave owners, without which America wouldn't exist. The original sin of inequality has subsequently compounded itself over centuries as it's been codified into, for example, government policies (like the mortgage interest tax deduction) that preference the ownership of real estate over renting it. Although mathematically speaking, reparations would be the right technocratic answer, it's unclear how many Americans -- even those on the left -- would support them. This is tied to point number two, which is:
* America has grown substantially more hyper-individualistic in the last 40 or 50 years, accelerated in no small part by Reaganism. McKibben also bemoans the path(s) not taken by liberals, cut short by the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, which resulted in Nixon's election and a 5-4 stacked Supreme Court ruling (Martinez et. al.) that codified inequity in the education system (school funding based on local taxable revenue rather than allocation from a statewide or country-wide pool). (Sidebar: I'm not sure what to take away from McKibben's comments here except maybe assassinations do work as a conservative policy tool?)
* Although boomers get shit on a lot for enjoying the fruits of this inequality and failing to do anything about political polarization, the breakdown of a civil society, the destruction of the environment, etc. -- and McKibben doesn't shirk away from noting that these things did happen on the boomers' watch -- he inveighs them to become activists now at the end of their lives, to correct some of their wrongs now that they have less to lose. This is a novel proposition but also not one that I think will be heeded, for why should boomers who have lived in relative [suburban] comfort by way of ignoring most of these issues for decades now rise to the challenge?
* McKibben has spent his entire adult life being a climate activist and journalist but by his own admission, the effects have been negligible (he states that he would love to win a battle sometime, which is not an unfair observation).
That's about it for the material covered in the book -- there, I saved you a few hundred pages. Although McKibben makes some valuable arguments in it, it's marred by the fact that he has written it as a memoir, peppered with various anecdotes mostly from his childhood and seen through the lens of Lexington, MA, the upper-middle-class suburb where he grew up. The book as a whole feels rather directionless and much of his argument is covered elsewhere (see The 1619 Project for example), so overall it's a bit of a disappointing read. This is made more so by McKibben's own admission that much of his activism over the last half-century has really come to naught, because frankly, most people find activism around climate change to be boring and irrelevant to their daily lives, something that climate activists still haven't cracked.
So while I learned more than a few things from McKibben's book, I would really hesitate to recommend it to anyone, since I'm not sure what a general audience is meant to actually get out of it.
March 19, 2023
I stuck with Rolling Stone long past its prime because of Bill McKibben’s pieces on climate change. Disappointed that he says the net worth of those of us in our fifties and sixties is twelve times that of younger generations. Well duh. We’ve worked longer! Invested longer! My parents were much wealthier in their sixties than me in my twenties. Try comparing our first starter homes, not where we live now, and factor in all the things younger generations consider necessities that we didn’t—cell phones, streaming services and cable, brand new cars with long payment terms(we bought beaters). Nobody I knew growing up expected their parents to pay for the down payment on their new home, college, their wedding and their honeymoon. ( I paid for all those things) We didn’t run up credit cards buying stuff we couldn’t afford. We paid the rent before we ate out.
Definitely agree that boomers are in a position to be actively working for causes that matter, voting, volunteering. If you remember many of the worst presidents lost the popular vote but won the electoral college by rigging the game, so blaming us for trump and Reagan is false, especially with recent revelations that republicans got Iran to hold the hostages until after the election, sealing Carter’s fate and pushing climate change closer to the danger zone. Boomers didn’t screw the planet—republican greed did.
You screwed it so you fixed it is offensive and not true. Democrats got catalytic converters and raised MPG, kept oil companies from drilling and they aren’t the party led by envangelicals. Boomers ended a war and the draft.
Skip the blame game and stick to Let’s Lead On Issues and here’s how. We should be as effective at communicating our wins as republicans are at blaming us for cleaning up the messes they make.
Definitely agree that boomers are in a position to be actively working for causes that matter, voting, volunteering. If you remember many of the worst presidents lost the popular vote but won the electoral college by rigging the game, so blaming us for trump and Reagan is false, especially with recent revelations that republicans got Iran to hold the hostages until after the election, sealing Carter’s fate and pushing climate change closer to the danger zone. Boomers didn’t screw the planet—republican greed did.
You screwed it so you fixed it is offensive and not true. Democrats got catalytic converters and raised MPG, kept oil companies from drilling and they aren’t the party led by envangelicals. Boomers ended a war and the draft.
Skip the blame game and stick to Let’s Lead On Issues and here’s how. We should be as effective at communicating our wins as republicans are at blaming us for cleaning up the messes they make.
May 8, 2023
I heard McKibben speak some 10 years ago, and what a dreadfully discouraging talk it was. But I was captivated by this title and other reviews, as I ask these questions myself. His explanations make so much sense! All the big picture things I had no idea were going on around me. I have often asked, what if, during that first big energy crisis, we had responded with foresight? Where could we be today? So I appreciated his insights and observations, and feel like he answered, as much as any one small book could, the question he asked in the title. Perhaps I can still make some small difference in my world today.
December 30, 2024
McKibben is an interesting guy. His environmental politics are pronounced and the reason for his recognition, but they've never been his sole concern. In the past, I've found his books marred by a lack of focus and an oddly distracted take on societal developments.
Here, McKibben lands on solid grounds, and his choice to delimit the magic circle of his childhood home as a springboard for an examination of social, economic and political changes in the USA is inspired. He is personal, he is frank, and he is unapologetic, and though I may not always agree with him, I admire his commitments and his earnestness.
This is a great book, if not the one for which he will be remembered.
Here, McKibben lands on solid grounds, and his choice to delimit the magic circle of his childhood home as a springboard for an examination of social, economic and political changes in the USA is inspired. He is personal, he is frank, and he is unapologetic, and though I may not always agree with him, I admire his commitments and his earnestness.
This is a great book, if not the one for which he will be remembered.
September 14, 2022
McKibben lays out the facts: white Americans of my generation grew up with unprecedented privilege and advantage. )I often say that my childhood was spent in the Golden Age.) He also makes it clear that the price in inequality and environmental impact was exorbitant. And he calls on us elders to step up and help the younger generation as they try to right the wrongs from which we benefited. I would have given the book that fifth star if he had been more specific about exactly how we can contribute. But he has certainly inspired me to find out.
August 15, 2022
I can appreciate what McKibben is trying to do with this book and there are a number of people in my life I'd like to gift this book to. It didn't BLOW ME AWAY personally, where I am at, but again I am glad it exists and think it is worthwhile.
January 22, 2023
The author is a 60-something professor who grew up as a deeply-patriotic resident of Lexington, Massachusetts where he led historical tours as a teen. He was deeply-committed to the church (and had the unusual discipline of writing out the text of the four gospels while a student at Harvard).
This book is not exactly his memoir but his story is central. Looking back, he wonders what the hell happened (as the subtitle puts it). The book has three sections: the flag, the cross and the station wagon.
In the Flag section, he's convincing about his patriotism but has come to realize that the American history he was taught growing up was deficient- the story of slavery, racism, and inequality were left out. He now realizes the seriousness of this deficiency. And he realizes that the flag, understandably, means different things to different Americans.
In the Cross section he's very appreciative of his religious upbringing. Some evangelicals will be less impressed with this section because he's very critical of evangelicalism *and* his faith is rooted in mainline Christianity. He notes that the percentage of Americans who belong to a mainline denomination has plummeted since the 1950s. Many evangelicals would applaud that drop, and certainly the mainline has significant deficiencies in my view, but I'm sympathetic to the mainliners', and McKibben's, belief that our Christian faith should care about and serve the common good.
The third section uses the Station Wagon to symbolize the problems of suburbia- the climate impact of large houses (with fewer people) and the considerable increase in driving. He also notes the considerable wealth accumulated in suburban real estate which increased inequality of wealth between whites and blacks.
His close is like an altar-call for change. It's winsome, persuasive, and particularly targeted to baby boomers. Although he believes they shoulder most of the blame for the three sections of the book, in large part due to their hyper-individualism, he holds out hope that boomers will see that there's a better way and they will yet use their considerable time and wealth to do good.
P.S. Arlingtonians who are currently in conflict about proposed changes to land use and housing restrictions will find his arguments for affordable housing quite relevant.
This book is not exactly his memoir but his story is central. Looking back, he wonders what the hell happened (as the subtitle puts it). The book has three sections: the flag, the cross and the station wagon.
In the Flag section, he's convincing about his patriotism but has come to realize that the American history he was taught growing up was deficient- the story of slavery, racism, and inequality were left out. He now realizes the seriousness of this deficiency. And he realizes that the flag, understandably, means different things to different Americans.
In the Cross section he's very appreciative of his religious upbringing. Some evangelicals will be less impressed with this section because he's very critical of evangelicalism *and* his faith is rooted in mainline Christianity. He notes that the percentage of Americans who belong to a mainline denomination has plummeted since the 1950s. Many evangelicals would applaud that drop, and certainly the mainline has significant deficiencies in my view, but I'm sympathetic to the mainliners', and McKibben's, belief that our Christian faith should care about and serve the common good.
The third section uses the Station Wagon to symbolize the problems of suburbia- the climate impact of large houses (with fewer people) and the considerable increase in driving. He also notes the considerable wealth accumulated in suburban real estate which increased inequality of wealth between whites and blacks.
His close is like an altar-call for change. It's winsome, persuasive, and particularly targeted to baby boomers. Although he believes they shoulder most of the blame for the three sections of the book, in large part due to their hyper-individualism, he holds out hope that boomers will see that there's a better way and they will yet use their considerable time and wealth to do good.
P.S. Arlingtonians who are currently in conflict about proposed changes to land use and housing restrictions will find his arguments for affordable housing quite relevant.
December 6, 2022
One of the better books I’ve read on inequality and racism; eclipsed only by John Edgar Wideman’s Look for Me and I'll Be Gone: Stories. A Dad’s book only in the sense that it targets my generation and McKibben’s descriptions will resonate with those growing up in the 70s. But it really is a call to action.
The flag, cross, and station wagon are symbols for nationalism, religion, and economics. Wrapped around these symbols are the aforementioned topics. McKibben writes how inequality and racism are intertwined, that the inability to get into suburbia (i.e. home ownership) in the 70s permanently restricted those people’s economic opportunities. That’s the main pillar of the inequality argument though McKibben cites other examples and harkens back to the history of Lexington during the Revolutionary War.
McKibben walks the walk. He’s been active in demonstrations, been arrested, and fought for both the environment and equality. Most recently the proposed (and canceled) Keystone XL pipeline.
I really liked how McKibben tells the story mixing the issue, his personal experiences, and historical events. Worth reading. Essentially, this generation fucked up the world and its time for us to get involved to rectify our mess. 4.5 Goodread stars.
Now I need to find my cause…
The flag, cross, and station wagon are symbols for nationalism, religion, and economics. Wrapped around these symbols are the aforementioned topics. McKibben writes how inequality and racism are intertwined, that the inability to get into suburbia (i.e. home ownership) in the 70s permanently restricted those people’s economic opportunities. That’s the main pillar of the inequality argument though McKibben cites other examples and harkens back to the history of Lexington during the Revolutionary War.
McKibben walks the walk. He’s been active in demonstrations, been arrested, and fought for both the environment and equality. Most recently the proposed (and canceled) Keystone XL pipeline.
I really liked how McKibben tells the story mixing the issue, his personal experiences, and historical events. Worth reading. Essentially, this generation fucked up the world and its time for us to get involved to rectify our mess. 4.5 Goodread stars.
Now I need to find my cause…
December 12, 2024
3.5⭐️
McKibben successfully blends personal narrative with discussion of political, social, and environmental justice issues. He adds perspective and depth to his discussion of the ironies and injustices of US history by playing his personal experiences during the 60s and 70s in Lexington, Massachusetts, off of the important role that place served in revolutionary times.
As someone of his “graying“ generation, I particularly appreciated some of the cultural happenings he discussed in that context (such as affordable housing and civil rights movements, singing Kumbaya with church youth groups, civil disobedience, and Vietnam veterans’ marches and protest against foreign wars).
In his discussions of our current situation vis-a-vis politics and climate change, I found particularly thoughtful his section on the post-WW II development of suburbs as “industry“ needing infrastructure that became negatively impactful on the environment and the bonds of community. Bigger houses built further out led to the razing of forests and agricultural space, development of subdivisions, use of more energy, construction of parking lots and shopping malls—all leading to less natural space and more privatization and seclusion.
Moreover, adding on to our energy-sucking big houses by popping out decks and patios extends indoor private space and erases communal natural space. We then fill these spaces with grills, outside kitchens, patio tables, fire pits, and couches which just replicate our indoor space. Choosing private space so heavily over public space (like libraries, recreation centers, town and concert halls) has contributed to the dangerous level of self-absorption that now characterizes our indoor, social media-focused, selfie-oriented culture to the detriment of connections to the natural world and our building of community. Much food for thought.
McKibben successfully blends personal narrative with discussion of political, social, and environmental justice issues. He adds perspective and depth to his discussion of the ironies and injustices of US history by playing his personal experiences during the 60s and 70s in Lexington, Massachusetts, off of the important role that place served in revolutionary times.
As someone of his “graying“ generation, I particularly appreciated some of the cultural happenings he discussed in that context (such as affordable housing and civil rights movements, singing Kumbaya with church youth groups, civil disobedience, and Vietnam veterans’ marches and protest against foreign wars).
In his discussions of our current situation vis-a-vis politics and climate change, I found particularly thoughtful his section on the post-WW II development of suburbs as “industry“ needing infrastructure that became negatively impactful on the environment and the bonds of community. Bigger houses built further out led to the razing of forests and agricultural space, development of subdivisions, use of more energy, construction of parking lots and shopping malls—all leading to less natural space and more privatization and seclusion.
Moreover, adding on to our energy-sucking big houses by popping out decks and patios extends indoor private space and erases communal natural space. We then fill these spaces with grills, outside kitchens, patio tables, fire pits, and couches which just replicate our indoor space. Choosing private space so heavily over public space (like libraries, recreation centers, town and concert halls) has contributed to the dangerous level of self-absorption that now characterizes our indoor, social media-focused, selfie-oriented culture to the detriment of connections to the natural world and our building of community. Much food for thought.
February 7, 2025
McKibben describes the era of my youth and subsequent quickly passed life and asks the same question I've been asking - what the hell happened? He provides an interesting, and sad, account of the missed opportunities we've had in the past 40 years to counter the increasing economic inequity and climate damage that has been done. He makes an earnest appeal to action by the older generation. Unfortunately, the publication of this book in 2022 presents a more optimistic political outlook for progress than the reality we are facing now.
January 4, 2024
This is a very readable and relatable memoir/social analysis/political critique, and I appreciate McKibben’s self-aware and well-informed reflections concerning the impact and consequences of the last 50 years of American history—and the responsibility of his (and my) generation for many of the worst aspects of that history and how these might now be addressed. Yes, he is preaching to the choir…I doubt anyone with opposing views will change their mind by reading this book. But it’s still worth the effort…at least I hope so.
July 17, 2022
McKibben tells a bit of his story and places it in a larger context of understanding, as the subtitle suggests, "what the hell happened" or is happening. Born the same year as McKibben, I appreciate how he describes awakening (from a white, privileged point of view) to the complexity (and cruelty) embedded in the history of this country, ponders the role of religion in this time and place, and calls to "graying Americans" to participate (not lead) the struggles for justice (climate, racial, economic, all intertwined) and to claim, (with appropriate humility for the devastation wrought in our time), the role of elders. One of those "I wish I'd written it" books.
December 11, 2022
4.5, rounded up, and I’m a little surprised by how much I liked this. The author is from the baby boomer generation, which helps give a sharper edge to his observations of the past. I read this while also reading Bill Gate’s book on climate change, and I’m glad I did. Taken together, they’re effective companions to help the reader become familiar with perspectives from the past, become informed on the urgency of the present moment, and actually present us with some plausible paths forward.
January 9, 2023
Environmental activist Bill McKibben looks back on his mid-century childhood in affluent Lexington, MA, and how it reflects culture at large over the past 60 years. Very good. He obviously has his opinions on the issues represented by the cross the flag and the station wagon, but I happen to agree with him. The personal is political. Well done.
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