Armstrong Williams (26543)
Armstrong Williams

No one has quite been able to put a finger on it, but there is something definitely afoot in America, with an alarming rise in suicides among individuals between the ages of 35 and 64. This trend has disproportionately affected middle-aged white Americans, who have seen a whopping 40 percent increase in the suicide rate since 1999. The rise in the white suicide rate, particularly among people in prime working age, should serve as a canary in the coal mine, warning us of a larger sociological problem in America.

The problem has been studied from a psychological angle, and even from the perspective of the declining economic fortunes faced by many Americans since the great recession. But this trend precedes the great recession, although signs point to the fact that the country’s economic woes may have a compounding factor on the alarming increase in suicides. Whereas suicides increased by 1 percent from 1999 to 2006, the rate of increase doubled to 2 percent after 2007. Other studies have pointed to drug and alcohol abuse—especially the proliferation of prescription pain narcotics—as a reason for the number of increased deaths. But even that explanation fails to satisfy the curious observer. Isn’t drug abuse, especially prescription drug abuse among middle-aged people, merely a symptom of a deeper malady that has beset America?

People are also looking at social media. The proliferation of readily produced images and content may have created a sort of perceptual divide among people who see their friends as thriving while they struggle. Of course, much of this is a mirage, as much of the content published on social media belies the fact that our lives may not be as exciting as we attempt to portray them.

Obama’s presidency promised to restore hope to America. But as yet that is a check that has not been honored. People are limping back into a job market that is substantially weaker than before the recession, and they feel that they have lost so much ground that even a job at their previous wage would hardly suffice to help them catch up. Many have lost their homes, their professions and even their identities in a gig economy that offers little and promises nothing. Although these trends have also affected older (65 years and above) and younger Americans (35 years and below), it has particularly hit those who cannot delay major life responsibilities, and those who have already fulfilled their major roles as breadwinners and parents.

The rise in despair signaled by the skyrocketing suicides is certainly a symptom of the dashed hopes of many Americans. They can no longer see any light at the end of the tunnel, and for a people who are constantly told that they are the masters of their own destinies, the disconnection between aspiration and reality has been extremely depressing. Also, America has emerged from a great recession with no sense of national purpose. There are no great building projects that employ masses of people and distract them from their problems. Many are left to limp along, suffering alone, not critically injured, but not healed either.

This lingering pain, the lack of clarity about a direction forward in this country, has created a fog of uncertainty that is for many even worse than the stabbing pain of economic disaster faced during the height of the great recession. I was once a guest aboard a friend’s sailboat on a beautiful sunny, windless day out on the ocean. The problem was, of course, that there was not even a hint of wind, and the boat was more or less stalled. My friend and his crew spent time tightening the sail, balancing the weight of the boat and myriad other (mostly useless) tactics to try and capture what little wind there was. He explained to me at the time that the hardest thing a sailor has to do is to learn to sail in the doldrums. “At least during a storm, your attention is captured on trying to keep the boat from sinking,” he laughed. “But the doldrums, where there is a total absence of wind and current, are the worst, because you feel that you cannot make any progress whatsoever. Many a sailor has gone crazy in the doldrums, with nothing to do, and too much time on their hands.”

One of the things about writing about social and public health challenges that appear to affect different racial groups disproportionately is that often we get mired down in race. The social and environmental factors that may now affect one group will ultimately affect all Americans. It does not matter whether we are talking about poverty, crime, police brutality, cancer or suicide. These things affect us all as Americans, and reducing the analysis to race diminishes what should be our concern about our fellow citizens.

A couple of years ago, during the height of the great recession, a cover of The New Yorker magazine featured an image of a sinking passenger ship (the Titanic) in the background, while in the foreground a few fat cats in a lifeboat were furiously rowing away in their tuxedos while laughing and smoking cigars. The implication was that even if America were to sink, the wealthy and privileged would somehow be able to get out alive. Nothing could be further from the case. Whether issues plague the rich or the poor, whites or minorities, they will all ultimately affect all of us. We should think about these trends with a degree of compassion because we never know when they will hit very close to home.

Read Armstrong Williams, author of the brand new book “Reawakening Virtues,” content on RightSideWire.com and come join the discussion live at 6-8 p.m. and 4-6 a.m., EST, on Sirius/XM UrbanView 126. Become a fan on FaceBook, and follow him on Twitter.