Clinton and Trump

Yes, I have not posted in a long time. I've been busier. I am also feeling more and more the repetitiveness of political/social drama and public discourse. Not only do I feel like I would be rehashing previous discussions, but it also drains the gas from my engine.

2016 is terrible, but as I am someone so clearly cynical about the inherent nature of political systems, the election is another area where my reactions would be easily predicted. There has been no dearth of fallacies, myths,and inaccuracies coming from all sides. It is infuriating. For some reason I decided it was time to weigh in on a few misconceptions.

Demagogues are responsible for bigotry. The best way to address bigotry is to discredit demagogues and defeat them at the polls by any means necessary.

This mode of thinking relies on a superhero view of the world where evil is something that exists in and of itself as a sine qua non of the order of the world. It is a characteristic of particular individuals who cannot be understood or changed, who are not rational beings, and are thus less than human. At the same time, this "evil" is treated like an infectious disease - it is contagious, it spreads, and it is capable of being incubated and exacerbated by malignant individuals - the demagogues. Bigotry follows this same pattern. Racists exist because... racists exist. They are, perhaps, a reflection of primordial human tendencies that some or most people have overcome. But the analysis is not as important as the public theater of denouncing them.

A sociological/anthropological analysis of racism stands in stark contrast to this moral-psychological view, with its understanding of society and systems and insistence on seeing all people. even the worst people, as nevertheless people - human beings with feelings and motives that can be at the very least understood. As I have mentioned before, the concept of race was developed as a means of channeling the anger of the white underclass in a direction that was not threatening to the dominating elites, as well as providing a moral justification for the oppression and/or extermination of non-white (black and native) populations. It has continued to serve this function. While neither race nor class is reducible to the other, they are at the same time very much interlinked. 

(Side note:  there is a parallel between the two analyses of bigotry and interpretations of terrorism. Some people see terrorists as irrational, not understandable, less-than-human, and terrorism as an aspect of the world that just is.  Their proposed solution to terrorism often involves a lot of violence. Others see terrorism as a phenomenon rooted in the domination of global capitalism and Western colonialism (this applies to domestic terrorism as well). They took seriously foreign terrorists' anger about the nature of U.S. involvement in other parts of the world and generally propose a radically different foreign policy as an important means of preventing terrorism. And they do this without justifying terrorism.)

If racism was birthed and maintained through economic exploitation and class conflict, then racism cannot significantly be addressed without altering the conditions of the political/economic system that sustains it. To that end, disregarding all of the concerns of that segment of the population to which racism is commonly considered endemic, is counter-productive to the goal of eradicating racism. I say "commonly considered" in part because I think there is a good case to be made that the elites perpetuate a subtle, yet vicious, form of racism that may be more damaging than that of certain blue collar whites. However, I think that particular issue is beyond the scope of this post.

This principle is applicable not just to Trumpism, but also, for example, to Brexit. If the people championing or indirectly supporting nationalism and bigotry are simultaneously aroused by feelings of anger related to economic opportunities and inequalities, eroding community bonds, and political disenfranchisement, then responding to these people by promoting policy that maintains or exacerbates these economic conditions (e.g. the type of policy represented by Clinton, the EU, and the British establishment), by explicitly demeaning and devaluing these people (calling them uneducated, ignorant, naive, incapable of acting in their own best interest), and by affirming their sense of helplessness in a political system that does not represent them (citing Trump or Brexit as a case that democracy is dangerous, advocating means of overriding the popular vote, telling third party voters that their vote only counts in relation to (for or against) one of the two main party candidates), one is actively promoting the conditions in which nationalism/racism/bigotry thrive.

The most constructive things a person can do are any actions that promote systemic change and a more open and representative political process. By this measure, voting for Hillary Clinton is not constructive.

Feeling that one can refrain from voting for Clinton is a form of privilege, as it indicates that one does not personally fear the consequences of a Trump presidency.

There is nothing I dislike more than social justice concepts such as "privilege" being used for base political ends. As a general rule, I am also incredibly frustrated by people who complain that "political correctness" is used to silence people who think differently. I have already written about what a disingenuous argument that is. In this case, however, this particular invocation of "privilege" is used to silence people who genuinely care about inequality (the argument is certainly not directed at conservatives) and this fact makes it all the more frustrating.

Recently I witnessed a female friend completely disregard the thoughts of a male who had just outlined the basis for his support of Jill Stein with the assertion that, as a man, he did not have to fear the consequences of a Trump presidency, and she thereby invalidated his choice to support Stein. I responded to her by pointing out that she had the privilege of not having to worry about the consequences of Clinton's foreign policy on the safety of either herself or her friends and family. I noted that I have heard Muslims and people with Middle Eastern and Latin American background/connections express such a personal fear. She ignored this point.

This could turn into a much longer discussion, but I will try to remain brief. Of course, it is important to take into account the experiences, observations, and social/historical perspectives of different people, most especially those who have not traditionally had a voice. But, being open and taking this into account, one must still formulate a set of principles and determine one's own positions based on those principles. Someone can validly assert that your arguments are based on fallacies, historical and sociological inaccuracies, a lack of evidence, and a disregard for others' experiences. A person can also validly link your personal position in society with such weaknesses in your arguments. But that is different than someone ignoring your arguments entirely and asserting that your position is flawed solely by virtue of the fact that you are X demographic category and happen to disagree on an issue with someone of Y demographic category.  

At any rate, there is a lot of variation within any group. Women, for example, have widely differing experiences and perspectives, and you could pick any argument and find some woman to agree with you and some woman to disagree with you. The key, as I already said, is the set of facts, evidence, and reasoning a person's principles and positions are based on.  A person can be well-versed in feminism, gender studies, queer theory, cultural studies, post-colonialism, African American studies, etc. and still reach the conclusion that a vote for a third party or a non-vote is less dangerous for society as a whole, including oppressed sub-groups, than a vote for Clinton. That is not "the privilege to not be afraid" - that is just someone with a similar set of concerns reaching a different conclusion.

Donald Trump is going to destroy society and that fear is more important than anything else.

Clearly it is not possible to say with any certainty what the results of a Donald Trump presidency will be. Personally, I think he is too incompetent to be the next Hitler or Stalin (also, institutional/structural conditions are completely different from Weimar Germany so those comparisons are problematic for other reasons) and based on all available evidence, including the heavy weight of institutional inertia in the U.S. political system, I imagine things would be fairly status quo under Trump. 

People will remind me of the danger that he stirs up racists.  I think those people like to forget that the radical right wing has been stirred up for a while. If anything, enthusiasm for Trump among those elements will wane once he is firmly part of the establishment, and the radical right will continue on. Once again, it will be more productive to reflect on the ways in which establishment discourse on terrorism, immigration, crime, drugs, and so forth, along with policies that create a white underclass, have done their share to stir up the radical right.

Most importantly, it is necessary to reject a politics based on fear. Some of the most terrible decisions are made when people act based on fear. (This even holds beyond humans, as fear is one of the primary causes of aggressive behavior outside of a predator-prey relationship.) That is why politicians always try to stoke people's fears to increase support for wars.  The fact that the agenda of news media has become so completely profit-driven, and that fear draws ratings, has only contributed to an environment in which fear plays an important role, and this environment just so happens to make people and situations much easier for politicians to manipulate.

If we give in to fear, we surely allow ourselves to be manipulated. Instead, we must remain rational, analyze problems at a systemic level, and be brave enough to pursue the actions and changes that we know are necessary.

Political Parties and Branding

Branding has come to occupy an interesting role in Late Capitalism, particularly in the constitution of the “global,” often providing a key linkage between the local and the global. Branding constructs a formidable international terror syndicate out of a ragtag collection of disparate local activist groups; it creates the impression of cultural homogenization and modernization despite an immense amount of global variation; it allows for the functioning of an international legal discourse (that of “human rights”) and value system (the spread of “democracy”) that can be strategically manipulated in different situations. In the U.S. (and probably elsewhere?), it also shapes party politics and the bodies of rhetoric that political parties regulate.

American democracy is not a system whereby citizens choose from a collection of representatives associated with an innumerable spectrum of viewpoints. Generally there are one or two viable candidates, and voters often base their decisions on party affiliations. For example, a person who agrees with much of the Republican Party platform (thus self-identifying as a Republican) will assume that any Republican politician represents the Republican “brand.” This obviously encourages people to vote for candidates without knowing anything about them other than their party affiliations (witness the election to U.S. congress of a man who believes he is Santa Claus). It also creates an extremely black-and-white environment for thinking about and discussing politics. But, finally, it allows for a certain degree of control over such thought and discussion on the part of party leaders, as brand loyalty makes particular arguments and ideologies easier to sell to the base.

And so political parties are a terrain on which a constant struggle plays out. Different interest groups attempt to wrest control over the messaging of the party, in order to cement their viewpoints as hegemonic. It is interesting to observe, for example, the different wings of the Republican Party that overlap with and diverge from each other based on religious loyalties, commitment to libertarian values, and the evangelical zeal of American Exceptionalism. It appears that the faction of the Party that recently came to control the messaging was too extreme to engage a majority of the American public, and now there is in-fighting and finger-pointing in the aftermath of the election. The Republican Party is trying to figure out how to re-brand itself in order to increase its appeal. Which ties into the second form of struggle: the relationship with the public at large. Political rhetoric has to be carefully calibrated to both “sell” the party and its ideology (i.e. to appeal to the market) and simultaneously influence public opinion, by providing the language with which various issues are discussed. It is the changing dynamic among powerful interest groups and their relationship to different segments of the American population that accounts for shifts in party ideology and demographic composition. Of course, one must account for the fact that political parties and campaigns are composed of people with external aims (economic, social, geopolitical) AND those whose primary goal is to win elections. The latter are all too willing to adopt any messaging that is strategically useful.

One characteristic of branding that very aptly describes the American political scene is its ability to alter perception. People believe they are getting what the marketing tells them they are getting, especially if it is popular. In the U.S., it does not matter what a political party actually does when it acquires power. People believe the messaging over the reality. In fact, their view of reality is distorted by the branding. People believe that Republicans are more fiscally responsible, even though that is not the case. They believe that Democrats are friendlier to minorities and the poor, even though that also is not the case. Even more fundamentally, branding creates the illusion of distinction. People don’t realize that Orbit gum is really the same as Eclipse, and both are owned by the same parent company. Just as they don’t realize that Democrat is, in actual practice, the same as Republican, and both are owned by the same parent company.

Is The Center Always Better?

Despite the polarization and passion involved in politics, no one directs their rage at the Center. If you can establish yourself as a moderate, you are pretty safe. No, more than safe: moderates usually command the most respect and wear it as a badge of honor. I have already discussed the discurve association between "radical" and "irrational"; there is, likewise, a parallel association frequently made between "moderate" and "rational." Moderates are more reasonable because they avoid the simplicity of the extremes and recognize contingencies on both sides.

That's not how I see things.

I have joked to friends that moderates are people who are too lazy to apply a consistent set of principles, or follow them to their logical conclusions. Now, setting aside my critique of the concept of the political spectrum, I think it is fair to say that the extremes are more ideologically "pure" than the Center. It could logically follow that ideological purity (or consistency) results in simplistic thinking (and from that, that the Center is more complex). But I think there is something more sinister going on in the Center.

Those who occupy the Center do not reject any of the ideologies embedded in the current social structure (neoliberal ideology, social contract ideology, etc.). In fact, dominant ideologies find fertile ground in the discourse of the Center. Thus, it cannot be said that the Center eschews the simplicity of ideology. Rather, the Center represents what is manifestly exigent at any moment, regardless of ideology (even when strategically employing it). It is the arena in which various forces of dominance struggle to satisfy their most immediate needs. It is, indeed, a place of comprimise - but comprimise among the base interests of the most powerful members of society. For that reason the Center can more easily command the network of state and non-state institutional resources, and control the messaging that is propogated as "public discourse" (making it seem more widely accepted and pragmatic).

It is Centrist parties, politcians, and policies that most effectively support global structures of domination. Both the Right and Left tend toward a degree of isolationism/protectionism that is obstructive of global networks. And both are often wary of state and transnational authority. This is what the Right and Left have in common: both are more likely to support system-threatening changes. It is in this way they are more "radical" (and that is also by virtue of their very definition).

One need only look at the Greek elections for a demonstration of this point. It is the Centrist parties that support the status quo as regards economic issues: essentially, acquiescence to the interstate system. Now, although I do not think the proposals of the Left and Right (which are essentially the same on this front) fundamentally challenge the system, both propose actions which are at least somewhat contrary to more dominant European interests.

The Center appears the most rational only because it is the least threatening to those who determine what rational is.

What Would Ron Paul Do?

This is no doubt that Ron Paul is an "exceptional" political figure. The fact that he doesn't fit the typical molds has made him seem a non-viable candidate to some, and yet very popular to others.

What I find most interesting about Ron Paul has nothing to do with his platform or him as a person, but the fact that so many people claim to disagree with him in significant and fundamental ways, yet still sing his praises. Oh, he's honest; he always follows his beliefs; he's consistent; he's going to bring all our troops home and won't involve the country in any more wars.

It says something about the sway of the ideology undergirding our political system (social contract theory, ideas of "democracy" and the like) that people can "feel good" about a person whose beliefs completely contradicts their own values and principles, just because they are so enthralled by his transparency. People are that determined to have some sort of political power, for their vote to mean something (and certainly, voting for a person who renegs on all their campaign promises in some way invalidates the vote), that knowing what to expect trumps actually liking what is expected. Isn't this just a sign that our political system doesn't really work in the way in which it's ideologically justified?

I will say this, though. I wouldn't mind if Ron Paul made it to the White House, if only because it would satisfy my own curiosity. I have argued before that it doesn't really matter who is president. All the supposed power of the government and the presidency is wielded by a gigantic corporate-bureaucratic apparatus which comprises and extends beyond the government, and which serves an array of conflicting capitalist interests. Presidents are mere figureheads. If one looks at actual policies, there is no real difference between political parties or among individual presidencies. There have been more abrupt changes within presidencies than across presidencies.

So I wonder. It does seem that, up to this point, Ron Paul hasn't allowed himself to be absorbed by the system. But he has been a lowly congressman. Would he really have any influence over anything if he were president? Would he actually be able to carry out any of the agendas that he so passionately desires? Or would the ruling elite make him insignifant and impotent?

So, sure... why not Ron Paul?  If it generally doesn't matter who is president, why not solve an interesting theoretical question?  And if it turns out he's not impotent, then how much more fascinating to watch the entire world deconstruct!

National Standards: The Tipping Point

The culminating moment of opposition between the national standards movement (which sought to retain, if not expand, the role of the federal government and the Department of Education) and the school choice movement that countered it, came in 1994.  After A Nation at Risk was published in 1983, national committees were established in every major school subject to create voluntary national standards.  The idea was to raise the quality of public education for everyone by outlining a clear set of common standards that would guide the improvement of curricula and instruction.

One of the last subjects to be tackled was history.  Lynne Cheney, then chair of the National Endowment for the Humanities, funded and participated in the creation of the history standards.  However, by the time the standards were nearing a state of completion, Cheney quit her position at the NEH and turned her attention to political concerns.   An important mid-term election was approaching (the Republicans would finally gain control of Congress that fall) and her husband, Dick Cheney (also a Republican), was considering a presidential candidacy.  At this time many Republican kingmakers had taken a strong interest in education and were full-fledged supporters of school choice.  If you were a Republican with political ambitions, you had no choice but to take up the mantel of choice.

But Cheney did not just run away from the national history standards.  She launched an all-out attack on them.  She claimed that she had been bamboozled, and that the standards had been "hijacked" by a bunch of academic radicals who sought to use education to undermine the foundations of American society and incite a socialist/communist revolution.  Her supporting examples (e.g. how many times George Washington is mentioned versus Harriet Tubman) are gross distortions of the documents, and sometimes outright false.  Considering the level of her involvement with these standards, I have a hard time believing that she merely misinterpreted them.  To me, the distortions seem completely intentional.  In reality, there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary with these standards, except that they demanded much of students' ability to reason and form  arguments.  In fact, my own history education (which I would consider anything but radical) seemed to resemble the standards, with perhaps less rigor.

The article Cheney wrote for the Wall Street Journal ended up being a huge political cash cow.  The controversy dominated public and political discussion for months and provided a platform for the Republicans to tighten their ideological narrative.  (Just as a side note, the Senate voted to symbolically condemn the history standards; the only "nay" was a Republican who felt the wording was not strong enough.)

What Cheney and those who followed her were able to do was portray a certain relationship between the federal government and institutions of higher education:  that academic radicals had in some way infiltrated or aligned with government bureaucracies and were simultaneously seeking to foment some kind of socialist or communist revolution.  In this way, Cheney et al. were able to strengthen associations that derived from the core of their ideology, most notably the connection between projects and processes of national scope and radical social change, federal control and communist revolution.

With the "curriculum wars" of 1994, the idea of national standards was dead.  The last remnants of what grew out of A Nation at Risk survived in the form of high-stakes testing and "accountability," and quickly adapted themselves to a new world dominated by "choice."