Savior Complex and The Equalizer 2: A Car Ride with Dad
About two weeks ago I was in a car with my dad. It was my car, that’s to say I make the payments and have my signature on the piece of paper that says “Whose car is this?”. The car has bumper stickers, symbols of comfort and projections of my personality to accentuate the mirage that the car is my property. I was also driving the car. My dad was in the passenger seat. Historically in car rides with my dad the roles would be reversed. I wouldn’t even need both hands to count the number of times I was in the car with my dad and he was not the one behind the wheel.
As we drove we listened to music, a playlist I had created called “God’s Army”. The playlist is my attempt to organize artists I view as integral to the experience of a modern living human. It is an imperfect and ego driven playlist designed mostly around artists that led me to some sort of spiritual awakening. It is mostly classic, decidedly inspirational artists such as the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, and Bob Marley as well as some artists that I have inducted into the great American canon myself, such as Sturgill Simpson, Hurray for the Riff Raff, Waxahatchee, and, of course, Ween. The chaotic mix played beneath our conversation which naturally turned to politics, the state of our world, and the potential future. We were in agreement about our outlook of things: bleak. Partway through the conversation my dad put forth a thought that I myself have had many times over the years: “Why doesn’t someone do something?”
It’s a fair question. Regardless of how you view this mess I feel and see that most of us currently on the rock can agree that the state of things is, in fact, quite a mess. The mess is being addressed with a tremendous amount of finger pointing, hissy fits, and machine gun fights. Historically, in my view, messes are not best handled in these ways. My father, though, is more open to the various options we as a species have created to clean up our messes. He expressed his fears, disappointments, and loss of faith in our “institutions” and his bewilderment at the lack of accountability and basic decency that has crept into our society more and more over the last decade. I listened heartbroken to the doubts of a man I love, a man who has spent his life leading me along this plane. A man who has guided me not through grotesque displays of traditional male strength but through illuminating and hysterical strengths of the mind and soul.
As my father wound down, slightly exasperated by his own frustration I sought to assure him he was not alone. “I completely agree” I said, because I did completely agree. I then continued, “But it reminds me, have you ever seen The Equalizer 2?”. He had not. I explained the general plot of the film as I will do for you right now. “The Equalizer 2” follows Denzel Washington (The Equalizer, Glory, The Equalizer 3) as The Equalizer, a sort of hermit assassin who lives in New York City and engages with various dilemmas largely relating to crime and criminals and bad guys and that basic sort of thing. In the first movie he works at Home Depot. I don’t remember that being a part of the second movie but I think this detail about the history of the character is important.
Amongst the many scenes of violence in The Equalizer 2 one very plainly non violent moment stood out to me most. About 20 minutes or so into the film a local gang spray paints their tag on the side of The Equalizer’s apartment building. The next morning, with a rag, soap, and I assume some sort of thinner, The Equalizer begins cleaning the graffiti off the side of the building. While he works, a young neighborhood boy passes by and points out to The Equalizer that it is not his job to clean the building, it is the landlord’s. The Equalizer responds something like, “That’s true. The landlord SHOULD be doing this. But the whole world is made up of messes someone else SHOULD clean up while the rest of us just as well COULD clean them up.” As I explained the scene I could tell my dad understood what I was getting at.
Recently I was reading about the concept of a “savior complex”. In my imperfect semi judgmental understanding a savior complex seems to be a mental condition in which an individual takes upon themselves the duty of fixing all “problems” that cross their path, whether it relate to them or not. This mindset is often compared to other mental conditions such as narcissism and sociopathy. As I read about the symptoms of “savior complex” it began to read less like a medical diagnosis and more like a robotic description of the story of Jesus Christ, Dorothy, The Rebel Alliance, Harry Potter, Neo, everyone I have ever known and loved, anyone with empathy, etc. I am sure it is more complicated than that, I have to assume that whoever writes these things for medical journals simply wasn’t explaining it well.
It is true that it is not and should not be your job to fix every problem and it is certainly true that, often, those who attempt to “fix every problem” find themselves in positions where they are doing no more than asserting their will over a people (see all of organized religion and geopolitical history). Yet, to condemn the impulse to fix things as a “complex” feels, at best, unfair. Maintaining appropriate boundaries and a unified cosmic love is quite a tightrope walk. You can’t go around forcing your care on people. But you also can’t sit back and watch destruction unfold unimpeded. Sometimes a bug must be left alone to do his bug jobs and sometimes he must be flipped back over onto his belly in order to not roast his bug balls under the fat yellow sun. In my view, the point of this life is maintaining that balance. Walk the valley with open loving awareness, ready and willing to offer your assistance when needed.
I tried to explain to my father that the question “Why doesn’t somebody do something” implies his and my own admission of defeat. A passing of the buck, if you will. Searching externally for a singular public figure to step up and change the tides is a fool’s errand. It is also a slippery slope towards a boxing match of opposing fascisms. Idol vs Idol often leaves us in the same place, the desert. While it feels good to believe a Superman will arise from the swamp and say “enough is enough” it begs a logical question. Why can’t YOU be Superman? Why don’t YOU fix it? If people are hateful why don’t you just be loving? If the world is full of dishonesty why don’t you just be honest? If we need an individual voice to stand against a power why can’t that voice be yours? If you continue to shout into the void eventually you’ll hear an echo. If you continue to point a finger you’ll eventually poke your own eye. If there’s work to be done then do the work.
Of course, I didn’t intend to put the weight of potential nuclear war, famine, genocide, and true death on the shoulders of my father. To curt blame and accentuate that no one needs to be Superman I reminded my dad that the very fact that he has these doubts, fears, and questions means the world will be just fine. Every great awakening in human history began with the same question, “Why?”
As long as we ask the eternal “Why” we will be fine. As long as we tend to our area we will be fine. It will take a long time but so does everything.
As our conversation reached its usual conclusion of resting on the only answer that can ever truly exist, “Who knows”, I turned up the radio while God’s Army continued playing. A classic rock song gave way to “True Love Will Find You in The End” by Daniel Johnston. “Oh here we go” I said, turning the volume louder. “Is this the autistic fellow?” my dad asked. I smiled, “Sure is.”
True Love Will Find You in The End by Daniel Johnston