I had to press pause on writing this review at first because while I had all the makings of a high-quality rant, with non-fiction, I feel the extra burden of making sure said ranting is coherent and well-informed. Things are Never So Bad They Can't Get Worse is a White American journalist's perspective on the how and why of the economic collapse in Venezuela with related political chaos. The author is upfront about how being an outsider colors his interactions with sources. However, he doesn't go so far as to be reflexive about how his role as an American would affect his view of the situation-- his judgments, his motivations, and his interpretations. And the further I read, the clearer his high-and-mighty tone grated on my nerves, his very particular and precarious political position on display. I would call it "liberal enough to look for opportunities to insult Trump (easy) but not liberal enough to be embarrassed by our country in a more general sense or to question the forces of capitalism (challenging)." It's Liberal Lite™: the option for the over-educated but too comfortable and ultimately self-centered.
I was mad at so many things that it's hard to be organized and clear about it. This is my best attempt at distilling what I noticed. Neuman's central premise is that the "essential story of Venezuela" is a cycle between wealth and poverty. He skips through history, picking up the details that feed into his (literally) essentialist view. Neuman makes gross oversimplifications aplenty, highlighting what he views as greed and corruption inherent in the collective Venezuelan psyche. But is expecting your "socialist" government to compensate you for its lucrative natural resources (oil) greedy? As opposed to letting a billionaire sit on those profits all on his lonesome? And is it equally corrupt for a wealthy businessman to play the system as for a desperate, starving person? He also describes Venezuelans as unwilling to collaborate, even for something important like fixing roads. Like hello, have you paid attention to US politics? It's the pot calling the kettle black AND it's painting a whole country's political system in dangerously broad strokes. Neuman also calls South America the most "violent continent," implying a fixed nature and a geographic etiology that I found logically questionable before we even address what data he did and didn't consult (not specified) for that incendiary title. Pretty sure we live in a country of regular, senseless mass shootings, so pass us the crown. Ultimately, the impression of an unending chain of acrimony, violence, incompetence, and corruption that will head into the future unbroken persists in a sort of defeatist hopelessness on the part of the author. These are some of the many circumstances where his role as a non-Venezuelan is clear. He shakes his head at the sorry state of things, lacking any horse in the race to motivate him or give him a nuanced view of the proceedings.
Instead, we get shock-and-awe journalism trotting out extreme, horrifying examples of everyday human suffering for a White audience to spectate from their comfortable circumstances. For example, calling someone's home a "shack" is patronizing and demeaning given the flippant tone, along with calling a person's life "marginal" like wtf does that mean? Marginal to what? That's a person's whole life you're talking about. He's also eager to share every detail of a source's torture at the hands of secret police, revealing that he pushed past the man's discomfort at sharing some of the details as if it demonstrated some unnecessary social conservatism that he didn't wish to share.
I also want to get into more specifically how Neuman wants to discuss economics in great detail without engaging much with colonialism and basically ignoring the sociopolitical context. To be fair to him, Neuman provides helpful explanations of importing scams -- exchanging for dollars at the market rate for imported goods and then making a profit by selling the excess dollars at a black market rate. However, boom-and-bust cycles are explained like they happen in a vacuum. Imports and exports go off the page into an unexamined ether. It gives big "invisible hand" vibes as if human decisions bow to market forces or are at least predicted by them, and the economy persists, beholden to no one. There's no questioning of who holds power and why outside of Venezuela-- the foreign banks so eager to write loans or the companies driving up inflation. The lack of economic diversification in Venezuela and the massive loans seem to be genuine issues, but Neuman wants to act like people are entitled for expecting oil wealth to be shared by the government, a further push into economic collapse. I see how a crash of that system would harm everyone, but that doesn't mean it was inherently bad for distributing wealth. Neuman's very keen on the Puritan myth of working hard as a sign of superior morality, yet another awkward example of not interrogating one's US upbringing before being shady towards other people.
The rest of my comments are in a similar vein, so I'm going to list them out, following the theme of "who authorized this white man to report on Venezuela like he's an expert and then write a whole damn book about it?"
1. The author comments that Columbus saw a river that wasn't named yet ... things can have a name before white people go around rebranding shit in a fit of colonialist superiority, bro.
2. He waxes poetic about how Venezuelans refer to electricity as "luz (light)" colloquially vs the American habit of calling it "power," which is an interesting comparison for underlying meaning and perception, but he doesn't need to be quite so smarmy as to declare the US term more accurate.
3. Should this white author be using the word gringo to mock the original worldview behind it? Neuman throws it around whenever Venezuelans are being dismissive or distrustful of White perspectives... And fair enough? So I don't think he gets to be cute about that.
4. He's also eager to make US comparisons, and it's not always clear if that's fair. He doesn't lay out systemic evidence to limit his claims appropriately. He just takes apples and oranges and goes LOOK, IT'S _____________ (populism, political weaponization of media, etc. -- fill in the blank).
5. He takes the side of expats, given the opportunity. An employer of European descent gets the benefit of the doubt for being reasonable and benevolent in one anecdote because he's the author's friend. Meanwhile, his Venezuelan employee is portrayed as manipulative and lazy for leaving a job for easier money. No details of working conditions or relative salary are provided to back that particular tone.
6. Further, Neuman interviews a bunch of US "experts" on the situation in Venezuela for a third of the book. It's relevant insofar as we were meddling in their politics, but to put those POVs on par with the lived experiences of people in the country... Ew. The intricacies of US infighting don't deserve the level of name-dropping and finger-pointing afforded them in this book. We are not the kingmakers of the world, and when we take that role, we historically fuck shit up. That should be the one-paragraph summary, not 100 pages delineating our idiotic policies. The only helpful part for me is that Neuman describes how foreign policy under Trump was really about domestic politics, i.e. Venezuelan policy as a reflection on Cuban policy, which is all about winning Florida's electoral votes. But that still has no bearing on Venezuela, the supposed subject of the book. That's making foreign policy domestic, the author committing the sin of his political enemy.
Did I learn anything about Venezuela from this book? Yes. But that's more a comment on my sad lack of education going in than on the author's talent and informativeness. I would pick up a book by a Venezuelan in a heartbeat to counteract some of the nonsense I had to put up with here. Working for The New York Times is not a free pass to write about the world if and how you see fit. I'm tired of white men.