I quit Facebook a couple of years ago; I decided I just wasn’t cut out for it. I suffer from the inability to let egregious errors slide, especially when the topic is an important one. It’s not that I think I’m always right; I’m open to correction with a good argument. Unfortunately, that’s not a response I got very often. Most of the time, the responses were couched in personal terms: I was a troll, I was being too picky, or, in one case, I was making a ridiculous fool of myself for disagreeing.
Maybe they’re right. I’ve had similar reactions on Twitter, although I’ve learned to just withdraw at the first sign of it. What I find oddly disturbing, though, is how often a simple disagreement is characterized as a lack of respect. Have we really come to the point where we think it’s disrespectful to openly disagree?
Social media seem to be seen as places where anyone gets to express their opinion, no matter how misinformed, or, indeed, insulting, without the fear of being exposed to contradiction. If I don’t think something you’ve posted is correct, fine; I get to post my own opinion, but not in response to yours. As a result, we, as a people, can happily continue shouting at each other without engaging in any meaningful discussion.
Nothing wrong with this, where mere opinion is concerned, I suppose, but the line between opinion and verifiable fact has all but disappeared in our discourse. And that’s very dangerous in a democracy, because it leaves us open to all kinds of manipulation. Not the least of which is the illusion that the majority of the nation feels exactly as we do on all the issues of importance, because we never allow ourselves to hear anything different. As a result, when an election goes astray from what we perceive as the inevitable result, we’re convinced it’s because of corruption, or worse, a conspiracy. And who’s to tell us otherwise?
If there’s a single word to describe this trend it’s this: childish. It goes along with our fascination with the simple black/white dichotomies of the comic-book movies we’re inundated with, and “extreme” sports, also straight out of the comics. Are we doomed to continue this prolonged adolescence forever?
A recent article in the Atlantic Monthly by Conor Friedersdorf brings up the question of the deep state, and whether it has overwhelmed our elected state, the one you and I see as the government. Briefly, the deep state is a term borrowed from Turkish politics, and denotes a secret cabal that actually runs things under the cover of the elected state, which is seen to be ineffectual in decisions that really matter. Applied to the United States, it refers to the institutions that continue intact, regardless of changes in the elected government and whomever they may appoint as titular heads. These institutions include the military, all the various agencies, and the bureaucracy in general. In its most sinister interpretation, beloved of conspiracy theorists, it is the deep state that really runs things, elected government amounting only to window dressing, a sop to keep the ignorant masses deluded. In its most benign interpretation, the deep state simply represents the necessary continuity in government, provided by career specialists, advising elected officials on finer points of a technical nature.
It’s not hard to see that there’s a continuum there; the reality can run anywhere between the two extremes. It can even vary, depending on the strength and leadership of the individuals in the elected government at any given time, on any given policy. It’s hard to believe in the most sinister extreme, because it would mean that everyone who has successfully run for high office is in on the conspiracy, is too stupid to see what’s going on, or has been intimidated into silence. The many instances of institututional displeasure with presidential policy would also have to have been staged, with none of us the wiser. All it would take to expose a conspiracy on this order would be one individual. We see already what Snowden has been able to do on a much lower level. Unless, of course, that’s been staged as well. If so, Snowden wins the Oscar hands down.
In his article, Friedersdorf’s alarm concerns the extent the military deep state has increased its power, based on some comments in Robert Gates’ recently published memoir:
…I can’t help but marvel at the casual manner in which this former secretary of defense observes that the military did take control of the policy process with regard to Afghanistan, and implies that they had the capacity to “run away with” the policy process.
This is in regard to the surge, strongly endorsed by the commanders in the field. He goes on to question why Obama is suggesting changes in NSA eavesdropping, instead of simply ordering them.
I don’t see it, frankly. Obama clearly had the option to go ahead with the surge or not. What is it that supposedly would have happened had he declined? An assassination? Indeed, what would happen if he ordered the changes he suggests in NSA policy? It is possible the NSA would simply continue clandestinely, and clamp down on leaks; it’s hard to imagine, though, a clandestine surge in Afghanistan. Most tellingly, though, there are just too many differences in policy from one administration to another to led credence the worst of the fears, in spite of Obama’s unexpected continuation of many Bush policies.
So much of politics is sheer romanticism. With the exception of the cadre of professional cynics who actually run things, we all willingly blind ourselves to reality. Of the true, died-in-the-wool ideologues, this is so obvious as to merit barely a mention, but it’s no less true of the vast majority of the rest of us as well. Those on the right imagine themselves as hard-bitten realists. on the left as compassionate champions of the disadvantaged. The vast “middle,” which is not really between any of the alternatives, but simply uncommitted to either of the major parties, sees itself as a last bastion of reasoned judgment, too smart to buy into the programs of the ideologues. Never mind that any consistency with regard to policy has long been abandoned by all concerned.
What is fascinating is that all sides regard themselves as typical of The People, and claim to speak for them, or at least on their behalf. This belief is resistant to any attempt at refutation, even scientifically conducted polls which clearly demonstrate otherwise. The only time attention is paid to a poll is when it corroborates the affiliation of a party with The People on some particular issue. Otherwise, it’s “lies, damned lies, and statistics,” to quote a meme attributed to virtually any famous person sufficiently dead to forestall denial. It’s really a symptom of our hog-wild, post-modern ultrarelativism, on which I have droned sufficiently elsewhere, I believe.
In this case, however, that relativism is grafted onto some time honored political tropes, ready made for bandying about when necessary to muddle things up. It has long been noted that when someone dies, what the dear departed would have wanted coincides marvelously with what the survivors want. Frequently, people claim that they are not really fighting over who gets the Rolex, but over what Dad would have wanted. So, too, in politics, it’s never about whose agenda gets advanced, but what The People want. And so we get the spectacle of Ted Cruz, in the face of poll after poll showing the majority disapproved of the government shutdown, swearing he was in it to do The Will of The People.
The left doesn’t get a pass on this account either. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard socialists go on and on about The People’s this or The People’s that, oblivious to the fact that most Americans would disagree. Props to Lenin, for openly admitting to his 3% constituency.
This is not to pass judgment on any particular program or policy; just the pretense about representing people you don’t.
The People, capitalized, almost never coincides with the people, lower case.
Consider this: You have a tree in your yard. It’s fine and healthy, but a neighbor keeps getting drunk and running into it with his car. Soon, you begin to worry that it might be causing lasting damage. Do you
a) Move your tree,
b) If he hits it again, move it again,
c) Throw up your hands, denouncing the sorry state of drivers, or
d) Try to get your neighbor off the road until he stops drinking.
It may or may not be true that all politicians are corrupt, but this observation does nothing to improve the situation we find ourselves in. I read a blog post the other day that maintained that the real problem was that public servants should be selfless, and they’re not. This brought to mind two observations: when I hear people criticize someone for being selfish, what they usually mean is they’re not paying enough attention to their needs; the other thing is that hardly anyone, let alone politicians, is selfless to an ideal degree. Our elected representatives are going to have their own interests at heart; after all, don’t you? The problem is how to structure things so that doesn’t conflict with the public interest. Never mind that we don’t all agree with what that is. After all, those 40 or so Tea Party congressmen were voted into office, and, by all accounts, their constituents tend to agree with their actions.
In any case, the irony is that these people are apparently acting out of principle — that is to say, out of a feeling that they are doing what the country desperately needs. You can always reason with cynics, by convincing them what they’re doing is not in their best interests. If someone is acting out of principle, however, forget it.
If you say the whole government is corrupt and irredeemable, you are really falling in line with the Tea Party. If that’s what you want, say so. If not, don’t muddy the waters and let the real perpetrators get away under the cover of cynicism.
Omniop 