After EMS: Is America Retiring?
This article is part of an ongoing series from Mike Rubin. In this series, he’ll reflect on his career and share practical retirement advice for emergency medical personnel. Catch up on articles you missed.
After I retired in 2023, I doubt anyone cared what I thought about EMS. They didn’t have to. We were free to disagree without stirring workplace politics. I don’t think I made decisions based solely on what was good for me, but who knows what others assumed?
What about the times I ordered pepperoni pizza for meetings? I like pepperoni, but maybe I was the only one. Maybe my coworkers ate because they were politely political. And hungry.
Now that I’m out of EMS, if I invited a bunch of medics to my house for lunch, some of them might confess, “Mike, I always hated pepperoni but was afraid to tell you,” or “Mike, I’m allergic to pepperoni. That’s why I couldn’t breathe when you brought pizza.” They wouldn’t stress over hurting my feelings because we don’t work or eat pizza together anymore.
Does that mean candor enhances retirement? I don’t think so.
Retirement is a path away from teamwork, away from social energy. Don’t underestimate such tools; they are essential elements of getting work done. You will miss them, as I do whenever I need a solution to a problem too big for one person.
That makes me wonder if the U.S. is “retiring,” too. Have we renounced diplomacy? Are we no longer the top influencer of global affairs? Do we plan to stay isolated from others unless they have something we need? If so, I doubt average citizens like you and me will be pleased with the results.
Other countries care less and less about us — what we think, what we promise, what we do. For a long time, many pretended to like us. Not anymore. Our hold over them is slipping as we value form ahead of substance. It’s as if we’re walking away from a distinguished role in international relations without considering what happens next.
The great shuffling of humanity that began in 1945, with America at the pinnacle of a brittle but lasting peace, has been replaced by petty squabbles with former allies and a new war that reveals more of our weaknesses than our strengths. Like many prospective retirees, we’re too busy reinventing ourselves to thrive.
Given the way we’ve been confronting other nations, how could any of them see us as partners? We’re nobody’s friend. To the rest of the planet, we’re just a racket. We offer protection at prices that oscillate between patronizing and punishing. No one takes us seriously unless we mention nukes. Even that is growing tiresome.
Bargaining for friendship and support reminds me of something old folks share with fragile governments: membership in the pay-me-no-mind club. It’s no fun to be on the margins where the strong torment the weak. I’m not even sure where our country fits right now. It’s time we recognized our limitations and stopped projecting exaggerated capabilities.
A free thinker who sees our nation in decline is Margaret MacMillan of The New York Times. She just wrote a piece about a new world order that echoes some of my own concerns. If you’re a retiree with decades of perspective, it’s worth a read. Maybe you’ll feel as unprepared as I do for whatever comes next.
The best we can hope for is that America has merely taken a leave of absence from world leadership. Retirement will follow, though, if we don’t rekindle strong relationships with countries not run by crazy people. Let our allies be allies again. Treat them as such, rather than as pawns in a global get-rich-quick scheme. Ditch the schoolyard name-calling and save the crude threats for genuine enemies of our people.
Building a golden shrine to Croesus isn’t the answer. Nobody likes a sore winner. There are tyrants, far from retirement, who would love to tell our disaffected citizens and former friends, “I am your retribution.”
Mike’s Exit Poll #23: If you could give one executive order, what would it be?
Helen started with a house rule that says, “No smartphones at the dinner table.” Sounds reasonable, but when I mentioned that her own cellular noisemaker beeps all day, right next to the salt and pepper shakers, she changed her policy to “No smartphones at the dinner table, except for mine.” She was joking, but her suffix fits executive orders nicely.
About the Author
Mike Rubin is a retired paramedic and the author of Life Support, a collection of EMS stories. Contact Mike at mgr22@prodigy.net.
