People need a way to deal with the global changes suddenly surrounding us. As often happens, second-hand opinions are gaining the most power. The vocabulary on the left speaks of positive change, a new order, rising prosperity in what used to be the thrid world, and creative possibilities. The right employs a darker, more pessimistic vocabulary of turmoil in the credit markets, military threat from China, the need to seize on traditional values and exclude imigrants. The basic difference comes down to embracing the emerging global community or holding tight to isolated nationalism backed up with military threats.

Barack Obama’s eloquence in the defense of idealism hasn’t changed since Iowa, but reaction to it has. He is accused of favoring uplifting rhetoric over hard policy choices. Some commentators complain that for them, the thrilling speeches of the primary season now produce little or no reaction. Obama speaks of a renewed world, but most old-timers, cynical or not, expect the world — especially the one inside the Beltway — to roll on without much change. Inertia will prevail over hope. We are fortunate, however, that Obama himself doesn’t believe any of this

Societies never act in totally predictable ways. In response to the global economic crisis of the mid-Seventies, induced by OPEC tripling the price of oil overnight, every country was put to the test. Energy policies proposed by Jimmy Carter, which rested on the notion of consumer restraint (e.g., turning the thermostat down in the White House to 68 degrees), were unpopular, demoralizing, and ultimately a flop. But England, France, the Soviet Union and others adopted widely differing energy policies that were equally a flop.

Common sense tells us that people naturally seek pleasure and avoid pain, but common sense is wrong. Pain is rarely a deterrent from destructive behavior. Sometimes the greater the pain, the more fiercely someone will cling to it. We see this on many fronts, from domestic abuse (when battered spouses repeatedly return to their abuser) to the Iraq conflict (where militias seem willing to slaughter each other until no one is left standing). Our addiction to pain is one of the toughest problems to solve in human psychology.

As the violence in Tibet has continued, the Dalai Lama issued a stern statement that he could not align himself with insurrection in his home country. Buddhism rests on several pillars, one of which is nonviolence. Tibet quickly became a kind of Buddhist litmus test. How much pain and oppression can you stand and still exhibit loving kindness and compassion? I wonder if that's really fair. The Tibetans face a political crisis that should be met with political action. Whatever that action turns out to be, nobody should be seen as a good or bad Buddhist, anymore than defending your house from an intruder tests whether a Christian is living by the precepts of Jesus.

After telling us that the media have been too soft on Barack Obama, the pundits now want us to believe that two words — “bitter” and “cling”–are major gaffes that may sink his campaign. Is this really credible? Presidential campaigns follow a familiar arc. After a long winter’s nap, public interest wakes up for the first primaries of the season. Once a candidate has been picked, everyone takes the summer off, and attention isn’t paid again until a month or so before the November elections.

Watching the troubles of the economy, some observers don’t want a bailout for either Wall St. or stressed homeowners who find themselves in over their heads. The phrase “moral hazard” is being tossed around as shorthand for “You took the risk, now take your lumps.” It would seem that the ground is littered with moral hazards. The reckless borrowing by huge investment banks on a margin of 30 to 1 may turn out to be the greatest moral hazard since the Great Depression. Even the massive rise in gas prices with no end in sight is connected with reckless risk-taking by the Bush administration as they plunged into the maelstrom of the Middle East.

It feels discomfiting and eerie to have plunged so deeply into the realm of the shadow, which is what happened last week. In mythic and psychological terms, the “shadow” is a place of darkness in each of us — and in society as a whole — where we hide feelings we are too weak or afraid to face. The news this week was almost a catalog of the shadow’s contents: sexual humiliation for Eliot Spitzer, panic and financial ruin for Bear Stearns, dread of death in the Atlanta tornado and the crane collapse in midtown New York City. Beneath the surface of each event, unconscious turmoil magnifies their meaning. They are shared events, and thanks to the mass media, they are felt in ever widening circles. Whole parts of the world, like China and the Middle East, feel ominous.

A month ago millions of people were discovering the allure of Barack Obama's charisma, and it made for a heady change in politics as usual. Caught on the wrong side of the charisma gap, Hillary Clinton applied the only remedy she knew -- more politics as usual -- and it seemed to work. Her wins in Texas and Ohio shifted the emphasis to toughness. The notorious "3 A.M. telephone call" ad gave voters second thoughts. Among those voters who made up their minds in the last day or two before the primary, a solid majority went for Clinton. Fear, deception, and innuendo have their uses, as we know all too well.

There has been much decrying in the anti-war movement of deception and disinformation, accusing the Bush administration of using both tactics to fool the American people into the invasion of Iraq. Little has been said about the shallowness of political debate that allowed the public to be fooled in the first place. On PBS this weekend there was an enlightening interview with Susan Jacoby, author of a new book, “The Age of American Unreason” (Pantheon, 2008), where she makes the point that ignorance underlies the war as much as trickery and deception. In a poll, college and high school-educated respondents were asked to find Iraq, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Israel on a world map.