Forgive me, readers. It has been seven months since my last confess—er, newsletter.
As a reminder: Adaam and I (theoretically) use these dispatches of Uncertainty to reflect on the last episode we aired, promote the next episode, and, basically, share whatever’s on our minds.
For very good reasons — personal, professional, and geopolitical — Adaam and I have had no energy left to muse these past months. But now, in the gray depths of another New York winter, I feel called again to put some thoughts to virtual paper. And to come clean…
Confession #1: I fear I’ve sucked at this podcast
Uncertain Things has never been easy for me. When we first started in 2020, I had a full-time job that took up a lot of my time and energy. Adaam stepped up as the primary person reaching out to guests: namely, people he knew/respected and wanted to talk to. We ended up talking to theologians, political scientists, psychologists, magicians, scientists — all incredibly brilliant, interesting people I often felt I had no business interviewing.
Don’t get me wrong, I think I’m smart and capable. But my wheelhouse is urbanism, and when I don’t know what I’m talking about, I clam up. In my day job, I circumvent this issue by being over-prepared. With Uncertain Things (ugg, and this one hurts me WAY more to confess), I rarely have time to read the books our guests have written. So, I would often default (defer?) to Adaam on the podcast: Not only was he more likely to have a baseline understanding of the material, he had read all the books.
People noticed. They would take me aside at gatherings. They would, in hushed tones, tell me that the gendered dynamic made them uncomfortable. This was hard to hear: I was not only letting myself down, but my entire sex!1 (Side note: I recently listened to Esther Perel interview Kara Swisher and Scott Galloway, the co-hosts of Pivot; they noted that people often positively respond to their dynamic often because they subvert gender expectations — Kara is bullish and Scott is vulnerable.)
I’d also like to note here that Adaam has never, ever wanted me to demure to his opinions or play second fiddle. He started this podcast with me because he values my mind and my opinions — and believes that I bring something unique. Behind the scenes, in many conversations, he and I have both expressed that we want me to be bigger in the pod, behind and in front of the mic.
But let me tell you, reader. It’s hard to be big. There’s a lot of shit in this world that teaches you to be small, to be conciliatory, to be safe. And I wish it weren’t gendered, but it is. Even in 20 fucking 24.
Confession #2: I want to be big
So the last seven months, I’ve been percolating on this. And, almost four years into this podcast, I must admit that I’ve gotten better at speaking off the cuff about random shit I know little to nothing about (a skillset I can only imagine will continue to serve me well in corporate America). I’ve come to the realization — also a little embarrassing — that I do want to be big, to take up space, to let my personality expand to reach the corners of the pod.
And my way of being big will be my own. It will not look like an intimidating bald eagle, spreading its span and squawking loudly — it will be more like a wide-winged goshawk, maneuvering through a forest.
And to toot my own horn for a moment, I think I’m getting there. When we spoke to Dr. Einat Wilf about Zionism, I owned my ignorance and navigated the conversation with curiosity and, I think, some good common sense. When we spoke to Charles Love and Wilfred Reilly about Black history — granted, something I know a thing or two about — I was happy to push back, in my own polite way.
Confession #3: I’m afraid to talk about Uncertain Things in my lefty circles
To transition to my next confession (my, I’ve been racking them up these last few months), here’s a quote from a friend, listener, and former guest, Misha Thomas, about our episode with Charles Love and Wilfred Reilly — What the Left Gets Wrong about Black History:
“The wonderful thing about these two gentlemen — they are just interested in ideas and the truth. Whatever you say, they listen and process … I loved everybody. Because everyone’s listening and participating, because they want to get somewhere.”
Unfortunately, I find that these qualities are not common among people in lefty circles these days. Which is why this episode, in particular, was fraught for me.
When I’m not making Uncertain Things, I spend a lot of my time working on a non-profit (Urbanist Media) and making a podcast called Urban Roots, which uplifts marginalized voices and preserves places through story. It’s a very lefty project, and a noble one, in my estimation. But as someone steeped in this DEI world, particularly a White person in it, I’m very aware that I have to be mindful about what I say. I don’t know if they’re imagined or not, but I see the guardrails — Oh, JK Rowling, steering clear! Oh, decolonization, staying quiet! Oh, Israel, definitely moving on. I worry that if I say the wrong thing to the wrong person, I’ll be written off completely — or worse, I won’t get hired/won’t get funding/could get fired from a job.
So making Uncertain Things — where we engage in debate and question conventional lefty talking points — is all kinds of complicated for me. (Paid members can revisit this locked episode where I first unpacked this realization.) When I meet an American I haven’t met before, and they ask me what I do, I will explain Urban Roots first and then Uncertain Things vaguely, say something like: “A longform interview show where we talk to folks willing to criticize their own side.” It’s my litmus test: if they express interest, I’ll go on. If they grab on to Urban Roots, I avoid all discussion of Uncertain Things.
This, of course, is partly why we started Uncertain Things in the first place. It’s crazy that I have to be afraid to have opposing ideas to the people in my political and social orbit. Which brings me to another confession.
Confession #4: I’m afraid I rep “my side” poorly
Here’s the thing. I’m not Kara Swisher. I’m not a bulldog. I generally don’t debate. And I don’t have pre-prepared arguments. So, when someone pushes me on a Lefty ideal I’ve held, probably since I was in college (for example, why I like the word “queer”), I don’t always have a good response.
It’s very de-stabilizing. Yes, it could be that the Lefty ideal was a castle of sand all along, and, in conversation with someone from a different perspective, I now see it for what it is. I should be glad to be so enlightened.
But instead, I often wonder, with some sense of shame: Would someone else have had a better push-back? By backing down, perhaps out of ignorance, am I betraying my tribe? Would someone else be a better advocate for “my” side? (And it’s a full circle to confession #1…)
Confession #5: I’m afraid to change my mind
Which takes me to my last confession. Something else I’m embarrassed to admit — but I want to share because I suspect I’m not alone. And I wonder if this characteristic is at least partly to blame for our societal divisions and inability to debate ideas across sides.
I’ve realized that, unlike Adaam, who revels in the experience of having his opinions shifted, I’m afraid to change my mind. I’m afraid to give someone else that power over me. Me being mutable, in a way, means that there’s nothing sacred about me at all. I could be washed away by the power of other people’s opinions.
Of course this is bull shit. I am not my opinions. If I changed all of them tomorrow, there would still be a me underneath. But the fear is real.
Which takes me back to what Misha said about our last episode. “I loved everyone. Because everyone’s listening and participating, because they want to get somewhere.” That’s my task - despite the fears - to keep listening and participating. And maybe I’ll get somewhere. At the very least, the conversations should be interesting.
Things Worth Your Time ⏰ —
🎥 American Fiction - I want to do a subscribers-only podcast about this beautiful little film with Adaam and Misha (and maybe even Charles and Wilfred, if they’d be willing to come back so soon). It lured me in with the promise of woke parody, but stayed with me because of the funny, poignant family at the film’s heart.
🎧 The Ezra Klein Show - I really loved this episode with Rhaina Cohen, author of The Other Significant Others. Adaam and I have just such an indefinable relationship (I’ve written about it before), and it was really lovely to hear about others in the same boat. Plus, something Ezra said (quoting a friend of his) has stuck with me: “I’d rather have the problems of living in community than the problems of living without it.”
🎧 Blocked & Reported: Mills Spills - Really enjoyed this episode with Andrew Mills, former producer at RadioLab and The New York Times, about the trials and tribulations he’s experienced in media (culminating in his being asked to leave the NYT). Mills seems like a really sweet guy — we have a similar podcast origin story (aka podcasts helping you survive a menial job) and questioning spirit. Remarkably, he tells his story without much bitterness and with more fairness than perhaps the people in it deserve.
🎧 The Love Department: “The Language of Us” - A friend of mine has just started a heartfelt podcast about love, and my unique parents — and their cross-cultural romance — are the subject of the first episode.
What We’re Working On ⏭
Coming next: our interview with our former J-School Dean, Steve Coll, about his meticulously researched and beautifully crafted new book, The Achilles Trap, about Saddam Hussein and the origins of the Iraq War.
One Last Certain Thing…
This song never gets old.
😇 Like Uncertain Things? Share us with your friends — and enemies. 😈
Adaam rolls his eyes.
Oh, Vanessa! Be as big as you want. Be all of the big. We love you. What the hell, I love you, and Adaam, and UT. I can't believe I wasn't subscribed, I'm so reading the shit out of your entire archive right now.
I totally hear you. To be a modern intellectual is exhausting, because of the constant pressure to be in a tribe, to take a side, and -let’s be honest - to be the smartest person in the room. Add in social media and the incentives are all crappy. You do you. And you’ll be a different person in different settings, on different topics, sometimes listening, sometimes speaking. That’s not gendered, that’s human. And if you’re seeking and speaking truth the best you can with whoever you’re speaking or listening to, you’re being authentically you. And that includes the right to change your mind later, no matter what label someone else wants to stick on it. Owning your uncertainty and intellectuals curiosity/honesty can be a super power when everyone around you is singing from the same hymnal.