In 2016, We Already Knew the Storm was Coming
As social media floods with photos from a decade ago, the feeling of nostalgia isn't as strong as it used to be.
With each new year, we're reminded of the passage of time and the history we've become a part of. It's a strange realization that our present selves are part of the past, and we keep moving forward into it. There's a crucial lesson to be learned from revisiting our recent history and feeling somewhat disconnected from it: Were we truly that person, unaware of the changes that would unfold between then and now? In a different city, in love with someone else? Wearing those clothes?
The arrival of 2026 has triggered the annual tradition of delving into photo archives. The introspective nature of social media turns this impulse into a communal activity, as everyone scours their 2016 pictures for perspective on a decade that may have passed quickly but felt endless during its course. Some recall the challenges and triumphs of that era, while others reflect on their evolving identities.
However, 2016 holds a darker significance for many. It was a year of hellish tragedy and the last gasp of normalcy for the United States and the world. The election of Donald Trump, fueled by far-right extremism, ushered in a decade of geopolitical instability, economic chaos, and anti-humanitarian practices. One Twitter user aptly described the situation: 'Things lowkey fell off a cliff in this country after that.' People have been presenting their old, innocent selfies as if they were portraits of someone about to be hit by a bus.
Despite the grim outlook, we should acknowledge our foresight. During the election, we knew that Trump's candidacy, whether he won or lost, was a very bad sign. We groaned when Hillary Clinton urged us to 'Pokémon Go to the polls,' recognizing her struggle to connect with voters and her vulnerability. Trump, a sleazy tabloid character since the 1970s, had been a mystery to many, but the warnings about his presidency proved remarkably accurate. Even the doomsayers couldn't have predicted the Covid-19 pandemic, yet the White House renovations, corruption, coziness with dictators, institutional gutting, and the deployment of masked goons against the U.S. population align with their predictions.
This is what makes those 2016 photos so poignant. We sensed a better future slipping away and feared that our cherished norms would be dismantled by lawless, reactionary forces. This year, often referred to as 'the worst year ever,' was expected to bring heightened misery, yet the pangs we feel from glimpses of it today remind us that we were already hanging by a thread.
I began that pivotal year by moving to Los Angeles, a sprawling metropolis unknown to me. My long-term relationship dissolved, I quit my job for a meager hourly wage at a bookstore, and I moved into a slovenly shared house. While I didn't enjoy the sudden change of pace after turning 30, I told myself I could manage the chaos, which I had brought upon myself.
What I couldn't handle was witnessing America's disintegration. I'll never forget seeing a man in a Trump shirt at my favorite taco truck, a moment that made me realize I had no idea which way was up. On election night, an Uber driver, noticing my depressive state, told me that the outcome was meaningless, as the Rothschild banking family controls the government. This comment was a glimpse into the conspiracist madness that has thrived under Trump.
Perhaps 2016 was the year we finally lost touch with reality. Fake news, viral misinformation, QAnon, election denial, and deepfakes became prevalent. We can study our decade-younger faces and find people who might still believe in basic facts. They are anxious and afraid but have tried to convince themselves that reason will prevail. Maybe it can, in a society that outlasts Trump and seeks to reverse the damage he has wrought.
That hope is weaker than ever, a flickering flame, and it's painful to recall our reliance on it. But if we were also clear-eyed about the years after 2016, we can envision a path out of this dark age. We can either pity our former selves for the challenges they faced or borrow their strength. Whatever the cost, they made it to 2026.
