Musings on caring too much.

The principle of least interest is haunting me.

Power dynamics can be a real bitch sometimes. There's this one pesky concept in sociology I'm sure you've been reminded of on more than one occasion: the person who cares less has more power.

This idea, first coined by American sociologist Willard Waller in 1937, has come to be known as the principle of least interest. It explores how differences in commitment to a relationship can impact the dynamic of that relationship in and of itself, namely speaking to how the person who has the least emotional or personal investment to continuing a relationship ultimately has the upper hand over it. The idea is that those who care the least also have the least amount to lose, and therefore, have the potential to exploit the more invested partner and/or dictate the direction such a relationship is headed.

Such an ideology can be found in basically every shade and flavor of relationship: in romance, in friendship, in business, in politics. Most of the time, this idea lives rent-free in the back of my head and I absolutely hate it. It also probably doesn't come as a surprise that I'm a Person Who Cares. And that, much like everything else in 2020, can be a ridiculously heavy weight to carry at times.

A hundred years ago, in 2018, Melania—my fourth least-favorite member of the Trump crime family after Donald, Ivanka and Trump-by-proxy Jared Kushner—made headlines for an infuriating fashion statement while making a visit to a shelter housing children who had been separated from their parents due to the Trump administration's inhumane immigration policies.

With this context adding fuel to the fire, she had the intentionally evil audacity to wear a green army jacket embossed with the words, "I Really Don't Care, Do U?" Naturally, this quickly led to outrage. As the trending topic grew significantly on that one now-distant day on Twitter, Melania's spokesperson (she has one of those?!) insisted the jacket had "no hidden message" while the president himself gloated it was a "message to the fake news media." Later, Melania said she wore the jacket "for the people and for the left-wing media who are criticizing me. And I want to show them that I don't care.” Ugh, I hate these people!!!!

While I already want to scream as I recall yet another instance of how the Trump administration is a hellish chapter of our history that can't end soon enough, it is still wild to me how, in that moment and to this day, Melania has had no hesitation in putting it out there in all capital letters that she didn't—and doesn't—care. So does that mean her not giving a shit makes her more powerful? Is the capability to not care the only successful business lesson the Trump regime knows how to apply? Or will the way they choose not to hide their inability to care be to their fated detriment?

Although I think that last question is the easiest one to answer, I think the real power lies in how and where and why you channel Your Care™. Caring enough about your relationships and your communities to take action in order to protect them is powerful. Trump, on the other hand, cares about none of those things, and only about himself. That may be part of how he was able to get this far in the first place, but that's also why I believe, in a week from today, enough people will show up at the polls and he'll be voted out of office. That's why I believe Melania's stupid fucking jacket is speaking to an audience that's now shrinking, albeit slowly and not necessarily silently.

This year has shown us a lot about how powerful caring about something, or someone, truly can be. We've seen care show up in a lot of ways, taking on various forms like wearing a mask, attending a protest, signing a petition, checking in on a friend you haven't talked to in a while and by simply showing up. In many ways, it's been heartening to see so much care happening, just as it's been equally distressing seeing instances of carelessness.

Watching people pandemic partying on my timeline, and seeing that being juxtaposed with people attending Zoom funerals, took my care to an unhealthy place this past summer. This is part of the reason why I chose to take a bit of a step back from social media in recent months. My time off-screen has helped remind me how caring too much can become unproductive pretty quickly. For example, does my spending 10+ hours on Twitter because "I care about what's going on" actually help anyone? Does finding out about a current event hours after it happens instead of in real time mean I care less than I say I do?

While some of my digital habits are deep-rooted in my news journalism background and others fall under other fun categories like straight-up addiction, fear of missing out, procrastination, identity, etc., there is a massive need for unlearning here, especially when it comes to figuring out how to care productively. Again, the power lies in how you channel your care.

For as long as I can remember, I've cared. I care about being on time. I care about my work. I care about my friends. I care about making my bed every morning. I care about whether or not I blew my candle out before I left my house. I care about Megan Thee Stallion. I care about recycling. I care about what people think of me, ugh. I care about correcting typos. I care about... a lot. The little things and the big things and the things I could 100% stand to work on caring less about.

Essentially what I’m saying is I've definitely cared too much more than I've cared too little. It feels like I'll also never stop asking myself if that's always such a bad thing. Even though I may never be able to effectively silence the voice in my head that keeps the reminder of the principle of least interest looming, especially whenever my intrinsic nature of caring too much comes at my own expense, I'm learning how to be okay with that. Among other things.

This week, caring means casting your ballot and encouraging others to do the same. I won't shut up about it, either. I really do care, don't you?