Jimmy Carter's 'Crisis of Confidence'

"...Consuming things does not satisfy our longing for meaning"

By now, I’m sure you know not to come poking around my corner of the Internet for a ‘hot take’ on breaking news. Try as I might, not much in my world is ‘hot’— not my coffee, and regretfully not my takes. While newsroom reporters often have obituaries ready to go for moments like this, by the time I orient my thoughts and get everyone in my household sufficiently fed, bathed, and tucked in so I can escape to write… let’s just say my takes are lukewarm at best. But by some miracle, this is making it to you on the day of the funeral, so we can just pretend I planned it for you that way. 😉

---

As the country lays the 39th President to rest today, I’m reminded that Jimmy Carter was, if nothing else, the President who made you eat your vegetables. Whatever your politics, Carter spent his career doing the things that he felt needed done, even when they were politically unpopular.

There is nothing that made this more apparent than Carter’s 1979 “Crisis of Confidence” speech. This speech, given in the context of a energy crisis that increased gasoline prices and led some states to ration gas supply, became one of Carter’s most famous commentaries. In the immediate aftermath of the speech, Carter’s approval rating jumped 11 points (only to crater when Americans realized Carter was asking them to make personal sacrifices), and much of what he had to say still resonates today.

“Human identity is no longer defined by what one does, but by what one owns. But we've discovered that owning things and consuming things does not satisfy our longing for meaning. We've learned that piling up material goods cannot fill the emptiness of lives which have no confidence or purpose.”

Oof.

What bothers me most about this observation is that we as a collective somehow still haven’t figured this out, 45 years later. Sure, some of us try: ‘Minimalism’ had its moment, then ‘underconsumption core’ took the Internet by storm. Thousands of people have truly realized the benefits of living with less (or, alternatively, the environmental and social harms of living with excess). And of course, there has been no shortage of people who consumed less than they otherwise would have by virtue of limited economic resources.

But our society, by and large, has continued to careen off the cliff of materialism.

This is a problem regardless of your identity or political affiliation. You can approach the call for meaning from the perspective of an environmentalist tracking CO2 in the atmosphere. If it’s your inclination, you can approach the call for meaning as a child of God (whatever your particular religious affiliation) called to leave the Earth better than when you found it. You can be an urbanite who wants a vibrant community, or a farmer who wants to protect their family’s land and legacy. Regardless of how you approach it, I think it’s unequivocally certain that the call on our lives is more important than the crap that we buy.

Ron Lieber of the New York Times offers a clear picture of the decades following Carter’s speech, noting that by virtually every metric, materialism has risen dramatically. Lieber notes that a survey of first-year college students saw twice as many students hoping to be “very well off financially” between 1967 and 2019, and only half as many students hoping to develop a “meaningful philosophy of life.” In other words, “how our children feel after we’re mostly done raising and educating them” looks… not terribly promising. But the problem starts with us.

I think the reasons for this are complicated. We’ve seen the devaluation of institutions, from trust in government, schools, and churches to the declining rates of marriage and child-rearing. This devaluation of places to find meaning has even extended to work. If you’re an older millennial, you witnessed firsthand the effects of the 2008 economic crisis; even younger people remember family financial strain or job less. No wonder that more than half of Gen Z and nearly half of adults report wanting to be an influencer. Traditional workplaces aren’t exactly demonstrating their loyalty to employees— and AI likely threatens your job regardless— so might as well make it big on TikTok.

That’s not, of course, an endorsement of influencer culture. Influencer culture puts material extravagances— luxury vacations, high-end handbags, and celebrity-endorsed sneakers— on display, never mind the performative reality. But if you can’t afford the luxury labels, not to worry. Fast-fashion labels and junk sites are more than happy to partner with TikTok influencers or sponsor your favorite Instagram reels. Nearly half the videos watched by children on YouTube are product promotions or ‘haul’ videos. We seem to be moving back rather than forward, aided in no small part by the $1.1 trillion advertising industry.

“We are at a turning point in our history. There are two paths to choose. One is a path I've warned about tonight, the path that leads to fragmentation and self-interest. Down that road lies a mistaken idea of freedom, the right to grasp for ourselves some advantage over others. That path would be one of constant conflict between narrow interests ending in chaos and immobility. It is a certain route to failure.”

This fractured state— of politics, certainly, but also of communities and even a shared understanding of ‘reality’— makes it challenging to reach across the aisle and agree on issues as basic as ensuring access ensuring clean waterways or mitigating the worst effects of climate change.

And sure, financial status and social power can help shield you personally from some of the worst effects of climate change, but we are nonetheless watching celebrities’ homes burn in the Palisades fire.

We need to rise to meet the moment. We need millions of people— those of us privileged enough to have a roof over our head and disposable income in our bank accounts— to recognize that the path to closer communities and greater life satisfaction won’t be found by padding Jeff Bezos’ pocketbook. It won’t be found in the latest sweater or from watching Instagram reels. It won’t be found by endorsing the status quo while entire neighborhoods dissolve in ‘apocalyptic’ fires or are washed away in ‘Biblical’ flooding.

Our world doesn’t make this easy. As

Jess Kirby

of A Common Thread observed, it’s far more lucrative to be an influencer than it is to remind people that they can be happy with enough. But challenging the status quo is the bare minimum we can do to create a healthier planet for our children. What stands out in Jimmy Carter’s life story is that ‘President’ wasn’t his final act; it wasn’t necessarily even his most impactful act. His role as ‘citizen’ and ‘humanitarian’ is the legacy he will leave. And just like eating your vegetables, I choose to believe that the small ways we each choose to engage in the world around us— not as consumers, but as friends, loved ones, activists, and yes, citizens— will pay dividends in the end.