In the fall of 1963, barely a year after the Cuban Missile Crisis, the USA was preoccupied with and frightened by the stark terror of the Cold War. At any moment, with the “push of a button,” warheads could be launched, triggering a mutually assured destruction of civilization.
In 2018, we find ourselves equally concerned with our survival. Now, we are focused more on the measures taken by our own government — not only on the increasingly hostile provocations throughout the world, which could still trigger that nuclear armageddon —but on the profound internal disagreements over the actions taken by our leaders — which threaten to rip us irreversibly apart and lead to another civil war.
During such extreme times, our forms of entertainment often seize on these real life situations and fictionalize them as a way to inform, learn or just make sense of the issues. Depending on the author’s point of view, the plays can be instructive, satirical, and even sympathetic — sometimes thinly veiling the intended lessons and at other times, cleverly concealing them. Science fiction and fantasy have often been a very reliable storytelling tool for the latter, tackling subjects ranging from McCarthyism (“Invasion of the Body Snatchers”) to fascism (“Red Dawn”). They draw from subjects including alien visitors, revisionist or alternative histories, and exaggerated science to illustrate their complex points. Television in the 1960s had a few brilliant anthology series which often spun these compelling fables — the best of which were The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits.
On September 30, 1963, in only its third episode ever aired, The Outer Limits showed an episode entitled “The Architects of Fear.” The program began with this prologue:
“Is this the day? Is this the beginning of the end? There is no time to wonder. No time to ask “Why is it happening? Why is it finally happening?” There is time only for fear, for the piercing pain of panic. Do we pray…or do we merely run now and pray later? Will there be a later…or is this the day?”
The play begins with a group of scientists watching a film of the horrors of war and man’s inhumanity to man. They reason that the world may very well be on the brink of self-destruction and realize that the situation is only made worse by the fear and paranoia gripping rival world powers that the other may act on them at any moment, pushing the world down an inevitable and irreversible path of doom. However, if all the nations faced a larger fear, an entity which was a threat to them all, the world might then be united against this common foe and be forced to learn to work and live together. To that end (forgive the sci fi gobbledygook), through grafts and gene infusions from an alien creature they have brought to Earth from the planet Theta, they transform one of their own into an replica being from that planet. Their scheme is to have their faux Thetan land at the UN and threaten Earth with invasion and annihilation. For those who have not seen this episode, the ship does not land as planned, instead crashing into some woodlands. Local hunters come upon the alien, are threatened when he disintegrates their car, and shoot back — ultimately killing the galactic imposter — without having delivered the intended message.
As we have all endured the interminable lead-up to tomorrow’s election (not to mention the 2016 debacle), it feels as if the architects of the election took a page or two from the storyline of that show.
In just the last few weeks, we have faced profound tragedies which include racially motivated killings in a Pittsburgh synagogue and a Kentucky supermarket, and the political assassination of a US resident in the Saudi embassy in Turkey. However horrible these events have been, they have rapidly become talking points for the opposing political factions instead of cautionary tales.
Political rhetoric has fueled these incidents (to some, even justifying these acts). Some of the fear tactics used include — to frame members of the free press as “the enemy of the people,” to race-bait with phrases like “nationalist” or accusing Puerto Rican hurricane survivors as “politically motivated ingrates”… and the biggest scarecrow of all — invoking the constant specter of an apocalyptic march of evil from south of our border which contains job-stealers, welfare frauds, gang members, thieves, and even Middle Eastern terrorists — aka, The Caravan,
Unlike the intent of the scientists in “Architects of Fear,” these tactics are intended not to bring us ALL together, but to bind circles of conservatives and like-minded supporters to groups, once thought to be on the fringe of society, in order to form a block of barely sufficient size to push through excessive and often punitive policies passed at any costs. This xenophobic fear of imminent attack has taken the focus away from the right’s perceived accomplishments with the economy, diplomatic negotiations with hostile nations and even the complete domination of The Supreme Court, but it has effectively united and maintained these groups on the right.
Then, there is the “alien menace” that strongly unites the left. If a group of scientists, or philosophers, or sociologists, or even media consultants, gathered in a room to construct the perfect menace to decorum, to educated thought, to logic, to transparency, and most of all, to truth — could there be a more perfect embodiment than Donald J. Trump? His incessant lies, his irresponsible actions and his inability to take on blame or responsibility of any kind, have not only united a loyal opposition, but have encouraged that opposition to vilify anyone who leans in the direction of Trump — often without examining and understanding why that person or group may find agreement with the current president.
In our current scenario, the alien ship has landed right where it was aimed, piloted by Trump himself — and he has solidly united those within constituencies for him and against him— all the while digging the gap deeper and wider between those factions. When Trump describes US troops installing “beautiful barbed wire” to protect the southern border, he terrifies all who hear those words. One side is in abject fear of the impending hordes and thus agree with this bold show of strength. The other side is terrified by the inhumanity implied in such actions. In virtually every moment of his campaign and his presidency, Trump has proved himself the supreme architect of fear.
If you seek to support or to challenge the sitting president, the solution is, simply, to vote tomorrow. However, we must all remember that after November 6th comes November 7th. No matter which side dominates (or squeaks by) in the election — all the fears that have been stoked will remain and more will come. It matters less that we have divisive agents in the seats of power than where we go from here. What we really need to do is find a way to find common ground, to remind ourselves of the meaning of our traditional motto, “E pluribus unum,” and to somehow reunite as a nation.
The closing narration of “The Architects of Fear” sums up their cautionary tale and our delicate times equally:
“Scarecrows and magic and other fatal fears do not bring people closer together. There is no magic substitute for soft caring and hard work, for self-respect and mutual love. If we can learn this from the mistake these frightened men made, then their mistake will not have been merely grotesque, it would at least have been a lesson. A lesson, at last, to be learned.”