Placerville, also known as Hangtown for its public executions during the Gold Rush of the 1800s, was the nearest town to my great-grandfather’s family farm in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. Charles Henry Rieber (1866-1948) was the last of five children and grew up balancing hard work, schooling that required miles of walking each way, and adventures in the mountains. He recalled getting advice from a Native American friend on how to hike safely. The key is to keep a focus on the ground in front of you to avoid tripping over roots and rocks, the “near view,” while simultaneously sighting a far-away landmark, “the distant vision.” Henry came to understand that this dual perspective was not just required for hiking, but was also a guide for how to live.
It worked! Against all odds, Henry finished his local education and then, with the help of a minister who saw promise in the young man, went on to study at the University of California in Berkeley. He worked for a blacksmith while immersing himself in a world of books that offered an enticing distant vision of human thought. He eventually completed his advanced degree in philosophy at Harvard, taught at UC Berkeley and then moved south to participate in the development of a new branch of the university, which came to be known as the University of California, Los Angeles. He was the first Dean of Letters and Sciences and enjoyed such success as both an administrator and teacher that a new undergraduate dorm would carry his name, Rieber Hall.
The history of the United States is defined by shifts between near and distant visions. The framers of the Constitution struggled to set aside the immediate challenges facing the new country in favor of fundamental principles that would serve as future guides through good and bad times. They defined “unalienable rights” — life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all persons — without confronting the glaring omission of women, native people and enslaved persons from that vision. They conceived of one country while deep divisions between states emerged in every debate. They left to elected officials and a new judiciary the task of reconciling the visionary ideals of the Constitution with the “rocks and roots” of the near view.
The history of immigrants in the United States reflects a philosophy very much like Henry’s. Whatever their country of origin — Italy, Ireland, China, Japan, Latin American nations — parents worked at the most difficult of jobs with a distant vision of a better life for their children. They survived prejudice, discrimination and demeaning labor to improve their families’ future prospects. Even those who were forced through slavery to come to America kept their near view clear, while striving for a distant vision of a better future. It has been the story of this country.
At various times, including the past few decades, we have failed to hold on to a distant vision in favor of an unrelenting focus on the near view. Tycoons and CEOs respond to short-term gains rather than long-term investments even if means risking the future of their companies and country. Politicians look only as far ahead as the next election and avoid taking positions that might jeopardize access to the cash they need to run successfully. An increasingly powerful media preaches immediate gratification so efficiently that average Americans sacrifice their futures under the weight of consumer debt. For those who struggle at jobs that don’t pay a living wage, any distant vision is an impossible dream.
What my ancestor may not have taken into account in his call for both near and distant visions was the possibility that a malignant future landmark might be paired with a carefully crafted strategy for immediate actions. This is clear in the blueprint advanced by the Heritage Foundation’s “Project 2025,” which is being actively implemented by the Trump Administration. There is no shortage of attention to both the near view and the distant vision in this document. Gaining majorities at the state level, from legislatures and governorships all the way down to local school boards, while simultaneously taking control of all three branches of the federal government is all in service to a future vision of a decapitated state that primarily serves the interests of the wealthy. Selling this to precisely those who will be most harmed by the policies is accomplished by media outlets that distort and deceive for an audience with grievances that conveniently blame those that might stand in the way of the Project’s fulfillment. The failure of opponents to promote an equally effective near and distant vision is the reason we have so much to fear.
Donald Joralemon, emeritus professor at Smith College, lives in Conway.