Boundaries

July 10, 2023

Dear Leland and Everett,

A movie came out last week called Sound of Freedom. The movie came into my awareness via Twitter. I watched Jordan Peterson (an interesting but controversial intellectual) interview the movie’s main actor (James Caveziel) as well as the man who inspired the movie (Tim Ballard). From that interview I learned Ballard left a job in Homeland Security combatting child sex trafficking to set up a private operation aimed at recovering kids overseas (since Homeland has no jurisdiction beyond US borders). Ballard suggested that, much like the drug trade, sex trafficking mostly occurs overseas in order to satisfy U.S. demand. The interview delved into Ballard’s faith, the leap of faith he took to leave his job (and pension) at Homeland, and what Ballard (from field experience) and Peterson (from his work as a clinical psychologist) have learned about evil. It was an interesting interview, and I found myself glad that the movie existed and that the story was being told. I was completely unaware that child sex trafficking is a significant problem; assuming it is, I’m glad it was brought to our attention so that we can start the discussion of what we will do about it.

Fast forward a few days, and outside of conservative outlets the media response to the movie has been acutely critical. The Guardian, Rolling Stone, and Washington Post have all run articles about the film; I also saw an interview clip discussing the movie on CNN. The theme across all of these articles appears to be that potential viewers should stay away lest they get sucked into QAnon conspiracies (QAnon is a loosely organized community of conspiracy theorists; from what little I know the theories seem rather outlandish, including a relatively core theory that elites are running a global pedophilia ring). None of the articles genuinely address the movie’s core assertions, and yet they (particularly the Guardian and Rolling Stone) dismiss out-of-hand whether anyone should really be bothered.

So what does the movie claim? Well, right in the preview it claims that child slavery due to sex trafficking has surpassed the illegal arms trade in value, and will soon pass the drug trade. It claims that the growth rate of children going into slavery is astronomical. And (though not in the preview) the movie claims (correctly, at least according to Variety‘s Owen Gleibrerman) that there are more people enslaved now than when slavery was legal.

Are any of the movie’s claims accurate? I don’t know. In a healthy society with a healthy media, we would agree on the underlying facts first, and only then would we debate what we should do with those facts. Unfortunately, ours is not a healthy society; nor are we supported by a healthy media. I’m utterly stunned that the Guardian, Rolling Stone, CNN, and Washington Post dedicated time and space to disavowing QAnon without addressing the volume and growth rate of child sex trafficking. I certainly respect media outlets’ right to correct inaccurate or misleading information. But that doesn’t happen in any of the 3 articles (plus video clip) I’ve found since the movie came out.

For what it’s worth, I do think it’s fair to point out Jim Cavezial’s apparently unseemly connections to QAnon. I also think it’s appropriate to ponder whether an extra-governmental organization like Tim Ballard’s should act in a de facto policing function overseas. And of course it’s completely reasonable (as some reviews have done) to say that the movie is just bad.

But if we’re going to politicize the movie, we should start with whether the movie gets its facts correct. Is the sex trafficking industry as big and growing as fast as claimed? If yes, do ordinary citizens not have a right to be concerned?

All of the above is a very long-winded way of saying…I got triggered and fell into a state of righteousness. And so I am now, partly via this letter, attempting to put down my binoculars and pick up my mirror, to try to understand what I can learn from my reaction. What I’ve found so far:

For one thing, I am reminded not to take on others’ baggage. Charles Bramesco of the Guardian and Miles Klee of Rolling Stone clearly have their own stuff to deal with. I cannot allow myself to get bogged down trying to control their thoughts and actions.

And yet, while I know it to be true, I don’t find this answer particularly gratifying. As far as I can tell, these authors are doing real harm to the world insofar as they are steering people away from a real concern by masquerading opinions as facts. (And even if their conclusions are correct, they infantilize their audience by presenting their conclusions without the underlying facts). Instead of presenting facts and allowing consumers to decide their own level of concern and personal level of involvement, these journalists attempt to steer readers attention away from the issues altogether. Will some reader decide, based on reading this article, not to get involved? If so, how many kids might not be rescued from slavery (or worse yet, prevented from going into slavery altogether) as a result of these articles?

Why wouldn’t Charles Bramesco, Mils Klee, and their editors at the Guardian and Rolling Stone, trust their readership enough to engage them with facts? Why do they insist on filtering those facts (whatever they are), only presenting their readers a conclusion the logic behind which the reader is denied? Do they think so little of their readership, or the world at large, that they feel compelled to attempt to control what we think? What authority do they believe they have over our thoughts? Do they not see that they are fundamentally altering the agreement between reader and journalist without alerting the reader?

Which gets me to the second order answer: sadness. For decades, we’ve gone to our media outlets looking for factual information and opinion pieces underpinned with facts. These articles fit in a broader trend where our media outlets now no longer ‘show their work’ by providing their underlying facts, and indeed sometimes don’t even ground themselves in facts whatsoever. What they don’t seem to realize is how much reputational damage they do, both to themselves and their publications, in the process. Every day people now catch their media outlets, whether via malice or incompetence, spreading false or misleading information. In the process, these outlets erode trust in their brands, journalism at large, our institutions more broadly, and our overall society and culture. This all makes me profoundly sad. More than anything, I am saddened by the direction I think we are headed, and I mourn the loss of trust we had with each other, with our institutions, and with our media. The days where we had an underlying trust in each other are ending, I will miss them, and it saddens me to watch it happen in real time as I prepare to say goodbye.

As much as I might be frustrated by the Guardian or Rolling Stone or journalism at large, I find no joy in watching these institutions degrade themselves. I’m particularly saddened because I think these outlets (like most of their peers) put themselves at existential risk by eroding the trust they have built over time, unnecessarily. These articles are not journalism or even what once passed as opinion pieces; they are attempts at mind control, and are beneath both the institutions that produced them and their readership. We can and should do better, and I don’t understand why we don’t.

Well, to some degree I do understand, and I outlined as much previously. Sex trafficking appears to satisfy all of the challenges I outlined previously: 1) we’re afraid we can’t do it, 2) we can’t seem to acknowledge the magnitude of the problem, 3) we don’t have the mechanisms to address it because it’s global in scope, 4) America’s waning power reduces our ability to solve the problem, 5) people are exhausted with things to worry about (and so some of the argument is really over whether sex trafficking should make our list of primary concerns), and 6) our institutions are outdated and increasingly incapable of dealing with the problems we face today. And so I do understand, but still, seeing this particular institution fail us so dramatically just makes me sad.

The third order answer to why this situation bothers me so is probably the deepest: I feel unequipped to do anything about it. I’d love to pretend that what I mean is that I don’t have access to Charles Bramesco, Mils Klee, and their editors at the Guardian and Rolling Stone in order to attempt to correct them regarding the error of their ways. Alas, I’m referring to something deeper: I doubt I have the internal fortitude to attempt to correct them even if I did have access. This, ultimately, I what I want to explore and practice today.

I’m not comfortable setting or maintaining boundaries. I’m not comfortable identifying nor asking for what I want, nor standing firm in the face of resistance. I’m too eager to please, too afraid of confrontation, and too terrified of being shunned by others. And yet, I cannot escape the conclusion that this scenario calls for confrontation, even if that means putting my social standing at risk.

How to confront Bramesco, Klee, et al? Alas, I don’t find much of the confrontation I see modeled in the world today particularly helpful or worthy of emulating. I recognize that Righteousness is the enemy of truth, so attempting to shame Bramesco and Klee won’t accomplish anything other than increasing our division.

Rather, I need to appeal to the goodness in Bramesco and Klee. I would want to let them know clearly that their actions crossed some boundary into the territory of unacceptable behavior. But I would want to do so without impugning them personally. I would want them to know that I believe they are loved because God loves them and, because of that belief, I have the capacity to show them compassion and love in the face of their errors. More than anything, I would want them to know that they themselves deserve better. Their publications deserve better, their readers deserve better, and the world at large deserves better; but most importantly, Bramesco and Klee deserve better of themselves. They are each capable of doing better and being better; if anything their behavior suggests that they want to be seen, to be corrected, and to be invited into a better world. And so I would want to assure them that a better world exists, and to invite them into it. On another day I’ll outline more about that better world.

I wouldn’t expect them to be convinced in the moment; indeed I would prepare myself for either pretty dramatic pushback or outright dismissal. But I would know that I did my part, and I would hold out faith and hope that I had put something into the world and into their spirit that let them know that they were seen and loved, and that God was calling out to them in an effort to help them find the thing their souls appear to be earnestly looking out for. Somehow, I would trust that my actions were healing, and I would turn the rest over to God.

I doubt I’ll really get the chance to confront Bramesco, Klee, or their editors. In truth, this letter is meant to serve as practice for the next time I get triggered, so that I might be prepared in that moment. Longer term, I’m hoping to show you how I’m approaching a challenge I’m facing, in the hopes that you might know me better and find something of use in your adult years.

I love you,

Dad