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The Moral Danger of Conservative Nostalgia

photograph of old movie projector displaying blank image on screen

When the news recently broke that a remake of the 1992 film The Bodyguard (originally starring Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner) is in the works, the internet quickly jumped to imagine who might play the lead roles (one popular trend is pushing for a Lizzo/Chris Evans team-up). Against the excitement, however, were critics arguing that the original film was artistically unique (the soundtrack, led by Houston, is hailed as an extraordinary achievement) and that it would be a mistake to try and recreate it without the incomparable Houston at the helm. Nevertheless, the project is moving forward with the award-winning playwright Matthew López writing the script.

There’s a kind of nostalgia at work in this story that, I want to argue, is not only aesthetically questionable, but can (at least potentially) pose serious moral dangers for a culture enamored with “the good ol’ days.”

It’s become something of a cliché to whine about the deluge of remakes, adaptations, reboots, sequels, and reenvisionings coming from Hollywood. The last year alone has seen new versions of Space Jam, Coming to America, Mulan, and Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure released and sequels to Top Gun, The Matrix, Ghostbusters, and Scream are finishing production (with reboots of everything from Twister to Pirates of the Caribbean to The Passion of the Christ and more in the works). Similarly, television shows like Full House, Who’s the Boss, Gilmore Girls, Saved by the Bell, and The Wonder Years have all recently returned with new episodes. (None of these lists are comprehensive.) When considered alongside the distinct trend of constructing an interwoven narrative across multiple films — most famously demonstrated by the Marvel Cinematic Universe — it could very well seem like “no one in Hollywood now has an original notion in their heads.”

But, importantly, this is not a new phenomenon: as most any historian of film will attest, Hollywood has always been in the business of re-telling pre-existing stories. One of the earliest remakes (a film called L’Arroseur) was released in 1896, making reboots older than the Titanic, sliced bread, and the state of Oklahoma. Remember that many films now considered classics — such as The Wizard of Oz, The Godfather, Psycho, and Mean Girls — were adaptations of already-published books; others like Scarface, The Maltese Falcon, and Angels in the Outfield were themselves remakes of already-released films. The upcoming He’s All That is, most directly, a remake of the 1999 movie She’s All That, but that was first a re-envisioning of 1964’s My Fair Lady which was itself an adaptation of George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion.

Rachel Fraser has described a “nostalgic culture” as “one bogged down in its own history” — the repeated retelling of familiar stories (and the market-driven incentives that motivate studio execs to continually greenlight such projects) is indeed one way that our present age is one “driven” by nostalgia.

But it is not the dangerous one I have in mind.

In general, ‘nostalgia’ describes an experience of sentimental or mournful longing for one’s past; in the words of philosopher Paula Sweeney, it is an “emotional response to change.” One way a person might so respond is by clinging to their memories, perhaps seeking to recapitulate a particular experience (now with updated special effects, pop culture references, and box office returns). But another is to enshrine the details of one’s memory in a manner that sacralizes the past event such that alterations to its contemporary retelling become offensive (or even heretical). The first kind of nostalgia motivates audiences to want a remake of The Bodyguard; the second kind decrees that no such remake could possibly compare to the original. If the first kind of nostalgia is analogous to addiction, the second might be comparable to idolatry.

While both kinds of nostalgia are focused on the past, only one drives people to try and bring that past (however modulated) into the present; call this form of nostalgia (that stokes the fires of reboots galore) repetitive nostalgia. The other kind of nostalgia promotes precisely the opposite, explicitly prohibiting any contemporary recreations of the past that could potentially alter things for the subjective worst; this kind of conservative nostalgia instead seeks to preserve a crystallized form of what the person remembers in order to protect them from the emotional damage of new changes.

Conservative nostalgia is, I contend, a key factor in the phenomenon of “toxic” fandoms, wherein devoted admirers of some element of pop culture bully other people for the sake of preserving their particular perspective on what they love. Sometimes, this is in response to a perceived attack on the object of their affection, as when one fan tweeted a mild criticism of rapper Nicki Minaj in June 2018 and then faced days of verbal attacks online that escalated to serious privacy violations and the loss of her job. Other times, toxic fandom is triggered alongside other biases, such as racism or sexism: consider the irrational backlash from some circles to Brie Larson’s MCU character or Kelly Marie Tran’s and John Boyega’s Star Wars roles. In each case, conservative nostalgia provokes fans to interpret new (sometimes quite minute) changes as threats, thereby prompting them to act in wildly inappropriate (and sometimes literally life-threatening) ways.

In a different way, something like conservative nostalgia seems to be the foundation of many defenses of preserving the statues built in the early-20th century to honor the failed leaders of the Confederate States of America. Although on one hand, it might seem odd for citizens of a country to want to honor domestic terrorists who formerly attacked that same country, the fact that these monuments have been standing for decades means that, for many people, the visual experience of those statues on roadsides or in town squares is a regular (and perhaps even comforting) element of familiar routines, regardless of who or what the monuments commemorate: to remove them is to make a change that can provoke the sorts of threat responses inherent to experiences of conservative nostalgia.

(To be clear, I do not mean to suggest that conservative nostalgia is the only relevant factor in the debate over Confederate statue removal, but rather that its affective consequences are one important — and perhaps often overlooked — element that should be considered.)

But online bullying and the perpetuation of oppressive propaganda, though seriously morally problematic, still might not count as dangerous (in the standard sense of the term). But when we consider the Capitol Riot of January 2021, we can indeed see extreme ramifications of conservative nostalgia that are easily recognizable as alarmingly unsafe: violent insurrection in an attempt to prevent undesired change. Misled by tangled webs of conspiracy theories and spurred on by multiple prominent figures, the failed insurrectionists sought to protect a false-but-subjectively-comforting narrative for themselves about the outcome of the 2020 election and the continued political career of Donald Trump, even if that meant seriously harming others, destroying historic property, and violating scores of laws. Though the rioters’ nostalgia seems to have been rooted in a mixture of ideologies and beliefs ranging from Christian nationalism to white supremacy to neoliberalism to “home-grown fascism,” one common thread was a fearful resistance to the administrative changes taking place inside the building they were storming — it was a conservative nostalgia that responded to change in an abjectly violent way. (And, concerningly, some politicians and media figures are already starting to reference the Capitol Riot positively, further sedimenting this conservative nostalgia within their own brands to, presumably, further weaponize it for self-serving political and financial support.)

Nevertheless, I don’t think that nostalgia — neither repetitive nor conservative — is necessarily bad: it’s an emotional response to triggers that can motivate further action, but it is those triggers and actions that are directly morally assessable. Still, to overlook the role played by our affective systems is to ignore an important element of human life that can have a massive influence on our thoughts and behavior — and we shouldn’t forget that.

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Jane Austen and Moral Instability

portrait engraving of Jane Austen

“Instability” is not a word many would associate with Jane Austen. Film and television adaptations have cemented her reputation within pop culture; we picture rolling hills, country balls, and restrained drama played out in charming domestic interiors. She seems uninterested in the Napoleonic wars, which were playing out just across the channel, or any of the weighty political matters that concerned the more “serious” writers of her day. She does seem interested in social unity, usually represented by a wedding, which punctuates the end of each narrative. Just desserts are always doled out by the narrator, and we always know which characters to root for. For these reasons, her name has become a byword for moral stability, and her version of the English countryside has come to represent a time when society wasn’t subject to rupture and confusion, as it is today.

If the wide array of contemporary Austen-themed conduct books indicates anything, she’s still seen as a touchstone for moral behavior. Her words have been used to demystify cooking, sex, and everything in between. This flourishing industry casts her as a sweet and world-savvy aunt, and further suggests that her novels can be pulverized into idiomatic quotes without context to serve a unified (if somewhat patchwork) Austenian ethic of the everyday.

And yet, beneath this seemingly tranquil surface lies a battleground for radical and conservative academics. Looking more closely at her works, it’s easy to see why; what at first appears a unified moral vision is anything but.

Attributing a single moral philosophy to Austen is notoriously difficult. There are overarching moral messages that connect her novels, but what may be the subject of mockery in one text is celebrated within another, or even within the same text. The unstable positioning of the Gothic in Austen’s first published novel, Northanger Abbey, is just one example. The novel’s heroine, Catherine Morland, is a voracious reader of pulpy romances, which leads her to commit a series of social blunders. She suspects that her love interest’s father murdered his own wife, in a plot lifted directly from the sensational literature of her day. But even though Catherine’s suspicions are proven false, the widowed gentleman proves to be cruel in other ways, which indicates that there is a glimmer of insight in even the most ridiculous Gothic fiction.

Even Austen’s engagement with class is hardly as black-and-white as it may appear. Often cited as the most fundamentally conservative element of her fiction, social and economic distinction are generally portrayed as the natural state of society, even beneficial to those at the bottom. Members of the landed elite like Mr. Darcy of Pride and Prejudice and Mr. Knightley from Emma especially embody this paternalism. And yet Austen’s final published novel, Persuasion, celebrates the meritocratic royal navy, and denigrates the landed elite as undeserving of their wealth and privilege.

Academics from both sides of the political spectrum have claimed her as one of their own, a conflict which came to a head with queer theorist Eve Kosofky Segwick’s groundbreaking article on Austen, “Jane Austen and the Masturbating Girl,” in which she explores the cultural history of masturbation through Austen’s Sense & Sensibility. The mere title (the actual paper had yet to be published) prompted conservative academic Robert Kimball to write Tenured Radicals, a pearl-clutching polemic on the moral bankruptcy of leftists in the academy, who dared link a bulwark of old-fashioned English morality like Austen with such a depraved topic. Kosofy’s article, and Austen by association, clearly came to represent something much larger within intellectual discourse. Both Kosofky and Kimball had completely different views of this body of work, which again speaks to Austen’s versatility as a writer and as a moral touchstone.

Like all great literature, her work opens the way for a myriad of interpretations. She was a novelist, not a philosopher, and was therefore not obliged to lay out her understanding of the world in treatise-form. As Thomas Keymer mentions in his book Jane Austen: Writing, Society, Politics, Austen recoiled from moralizing novels of her contemporaries, like those of Hannah More, for their Evangelical zeal and purely didactic approach to fiction. She herself wrote to her sister Cassandra, “I do not write for such dull Elves As have not a great deal of Ingenuity themselves.” She is not calling for moral and imaginative complacency, but for wide-ranging sympathy and understanding.

Helena Kelly’s 2016 book Jane Austen, the Secret Radical, is described by Google Books as “A brilliant, illuminating reassessment of the life and work of Jane Austen that makes clear how Austen has been misread for the past two centuries and that shows us how she intended her books to be read, revealing, as well, how subversive and daring — how truly radical — a writer she was.” The impulse to claim her as a “secret radical” is perhaps as misguided as Kimball’s attempt to claim her for conservatives, compelling as Kelly’s interpretation may be. We can never completely reconstruct how Austen understood the world through her novels and surviving letters, but we can understand her as a three-dimensional person who may have had radical thoughts while still being a product of her time. When we move past our preconceived notion of her as a fixed moral touchstone, we can engage with her work in exciting new ways, which ultimately sharpens our understanding of how to be a person in an increasingly complicated world.

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Ponderous Chains; or, How the Supreme Court Escapes Precedent

photograph of statue on the steps to the US Supreme Court

Like Jacob Marley, the Supreme Court of the United States wears the chains it formed in life; unlike Jacob Marley, the Supreme Court is not always resigned to be strictly bound by these chains. This is a simile. It is also in the form of a fact-to-fact comparison law students are taught to write in their first year. Such legal similes are a devious device by which the Court slips its ponderous chains — but only in its subtler moments. A court will avoid following a rule while leaving it in place by arguing that it doesn’t apply in a particular case — by “distinguishing” a past binding case from one under consideration. At other times the Court casts-off one of its coils altogether like Dorothy Parker’s apocryphal book. It is this less subtle maneuver that commentators worry about when the make-up of the court radically changes, as it has over the last four years. Now with President Donald Trump poised to name a third justice to the Court, after Neil Gorsuch (replacing Antonin Scalia) and Brett Kavaunagh (replacing Anthony Kennedy), the Court is changing more at one time than it has since the presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt.

The Supreme Court of the United States (“SCOTUS”) has nine justices. That number is not fixed anywhere as a matter of law, but is how many seats there have been since 1869. That makes 5 to 4 four the ratio for majority opinion. Why does that matter? All courts in the US operate on the basis of a principle called stare decisis, which is Latin for “stand by what is decided.” This principle creates a system of judicial precedents that oblige “lower” courts to rule in a manner consistent with “higher” courts, and creates a strong presumption that a given court will decide in a manner with its own past decisions. For example, decisions of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania bind the intermediate appeal courts of that state, as well as all of the state trial courts. The decisions of the 3rd Circuit Court of Appeals bind the Federal District Courts of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, and the Virgin Islands. And of course the decisions of the SCOTUS bind all other courts: it is the “highest court in the land,” and therefore all other courts are lower with respect to it.

A majority opinion is required for a decision to be binding. Or, more precisely, a single rationale (implicitly) approved by at least five justices is required to bind lower courts. This rule, the “Marks Rule,” was promulgated in Marks v. United States, where the court was primarily concerned with deciding due process issues about the retroactive effect of binding decisions made while other cases are in the process of adjudication. If there is no common rule or rationale embodied by the collective opinions of the justices, then their opinions are merely persuasive rather than binding. When the SCOTUS does issue a majority opinion, in addition to binding lower courts, it also creates a precedent that it will generally hold itself to. Reading a SCOTUS opinion, you will see the justices often refer to past Court decisions as reasons for their decision — sometimes with open distaste. For example, in Grable & Sons Metal Products v. Darue Engineering & Manufacturing, Justice Clarence Thomas invited an opportunity to overrule Court precedent concerning federal court jurisdiction in his opinion concurring with an unanimous court. That is, in the same breath he indicated both “this is the rule” and “I would like to obliterate this rule.” Recently, Thomas also indicated that he would entertain cases aimed at overturning the qualified immunity rule.

Why would a Justice or the Court invite the opportunity to hear cases in order to overturn precedent rather than simply doing it? No court can just issue any decision on any matter it wants to apropos of nothing. There are complicated matters concerning which court (“venue“) can hear which claims (“subject matter jurisdiction“) over which people (“personal jurisdiction“), all of which haunt the sleep of law students. Further, courts usually cannot decide any matters that are not explicitly raised by parties to a legal proceeding: they cannot issue rulings on their own initiative, or “sua sponte.” Finally, the supreme courts of the various states and the United States itself are not generally obliged to hear any particular case. Instead these courts exercise their discretion, guided by their own procedural rules, when determining what cases to hear.

Now the anxiety of liberal Court-watchers becomes clear. With Amy Coney Barrett’s confirmation to the seat made empty by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s death, the balance of the Court would shift to a clear conservative majority. The conservative bench would comprise Justices Barrett, Kavanaugh, Gorsuch, Alito, Thomas, and Chief Justice Roberts, while the liberal bench would have only Justices Sotamayor, Kagan, and Breyer. In light of this composition, people eager to overturn decisions in disfavor with conservatives (for example, Roe v. Wade) would attempt to obtain review for as many cases that could present an opportunity for the Court to overturn past precedent. Conservative members of the Court might even encourage that in their opinions on related matters. There would then be a new precedent, binding on all lower courts, until a time when a later Court with a different composition might decide to change its mind again. However, as Justices serve until they die, retire, or are removed pursuant to impeachment, it takes a long time for the composition of the court to evolve “naturally.”

In light of the Republicans blocking Obama nominee Merrick Garland during an presidential election year, and their subsequent rush to appoint Amy Barrett in the last few weeks prior to a presidential election, many urge an “artificial” alteration of the Court’s composition. The alternative, increasing the number of seats on the court (i.e., “court packing“), was openly discussed by Democratic presidential candidates Pete Buttgieg, Amy Klobuchar, Cory Booker, and current Democratic Vice-Presidential candidate Kamala Harris. However, that option requires Congressional cooperation and popular support and is likely to create pushback. In all likelihood, Democrats will have to wait a long time to appoint a new Justice to the court, even if Joe Biden wins the 2020 election for President of the United States.

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Does a Post-COVID World Change the Plan for Court-Packing?

"Equal Justice Under Law" Supreme Court facade

In recent weeks the United States Supreme Court has made several landmark decisions that have surprised many legal observers. Recent rulings on immigration, LGBTQ rights, and abortion highlighted the importance of Chief Justice John Roberts as a potential swing vote, tempering the conservatism of the Court. Recent headlines highlight this development: “John Roberts Shatters Expectations for the Supreme Court,” and “Chief Justice Roberts Steers High Court to a Surprising Term.” I imagine that the surprise many seem to have is owing to the expectation that with the appointments to the Court over the last four years, the Court would take a far more conservative approach. If Joe Biden wins in November (and if the Democrats gain control of the Senate) the matter of whether to “pack” the Court will become relevant again, but in light of recent events, would this be appropriate?

The debate over court-packing is not necessarily a new one. During the Depression, several New Deal provisions, like the National Recovery Act, were struck down. With five aging conservative justices to deal with, FDR proposed to expand the Court to appoint a new justice for every sitting justice older than 70 and who had served for 10 years. Had that proposal been carried out, six new justices would have been added to the Court. The move attracted controversy, but in the end one of the justices who opposed the New Deal retired a few months later and Roosevelt was able to appoint his own justice and shift the balance of the court.

It is important to note that nothing in the Constitution mandates that there be 9 justices on the court, and recently there have been calls to “pack” the Court with more liberal justices in order to shift the balance yet again. These calls follow the wins of Presidents George W. Bush and Donald Trump, both of whom became president despite losing the popular vote and who managed to appoint four justices between them (including Roberts himself as Chief Justice). Had the presidency been given to Al Gore (possibly assuming re-election in 2004) and Hillary Clinton, those three to four justices would have been able to tilt the Court heavily to the left. It is worth noting that Republicans have only won the popular vote of a presidential election once in the last 28 years. There is also the matter of Merrick Garland. Garland was nominated by Obama following the vacancy created by the death of Antonin Scalia. Had he been confirmed, the Court would also have shifted leftward. But Republicans refused to hold a hearing or vote, and after Trump became president in 2016, the vacancy was filled by Neil Gorsuch instead.

If Biden and the Democrats win in November and retake the Senate and the White House, the (now) lack of a filibuster on such votes could allow for more justices to be appointed. But with Roberts’ tendency to be a swing vote, tempering the more conservative voices on the Court, why would packing be needed? After only a few recent decisions, assertions like “John Roberts is Just Who the Supreme Court Needed”, that Roberts is “steering the court on a middle course,” that Roberts is “leading from the center” or that the Roberts Court defies partisanship have been made, and if it were true then the case for packing the Court would be undermined. Those who make such claims suggest that Roberts is trying to protect the integrity of the court from being seen as too partisan.

However, there is good reason to be cautious about these claims. As lawyer Tom Goldstein told NBC News, “The chief justice is more of an incrementalist than a swing justice…He is moving the law to the right, but slowly. And the liberal justices are willing to go along with him, to minimize the damage.” The LA Times reports that while trying to demonstrate that the Court is not in Trump’s pocket, “they quite often hand down ideological cases that go his way.” Indeed, in other cases, such as on the matter of voting rights, Roberts supported the conservative position. In other words, the evidence for the notion that the Court is now balanced or nonpartisan may be more anecdotal than conclusive. Given that these recent swing votes have taken place during an election year, it may be that Roberts is trying to prevent public resentment which might lead to court-packing. While political participation is generally low, issues concerning the makeup of the Supreme Court can be a significant motivator for voters.

Despite recent rulings, there are more arguments to be made for and against packing that are poignant during the current crises taking place in America. Courts are now ruling on the legality of COVID-19 orders, and this may be the most litigious election ever, setting countless precedents regarding voting by mail and absentee ballots. The Supreme Court itself ruled on cases in Texas and Alabama which have made it more difficult for people to vote by absentee, meaning that voters will have to risk infection if they wish to cast their ballots. The rulings that could be made following COVID-19 could have massive social, ethical, economical, and legal consequences. Climate change may require massive shifts in state intervention that conservative jurists regard as unconstitutional. In fact, hostility to voting rights are one of the reasons made for court packing. But court-packing may also be a useful threat to either gain voluntary compliance from the court on key issues or spur action to depoliticize the judiciary.

On the other hand, the arguments against packing tend to focus on the worst-case scenario where all the Court’s credibility is lost. With this in mind, certain proposals, like Pete Buttigieg’s, provide for the appointment of both conservative and liberal justices. But, as yet, there is no hard evidence to suggest that court-packing would work for or against public respect for the Court.

Former Obama White House Counsel under Barack Obama Bob Bauer has argued that attempts to pack the Court are ill-considered. He notes, “It seems that Trump’s opposition would do better to distinguish its reform politics from anything resembling the approach of this president, which seeks to undermine institutions and associated norms to engineer his preferred outcomes.” Institutional reform can be done in a way that is “bona fide” or in a way that will “merely result in additional or perhaps irreparable institutional damage and political fallout.” Bauer is clear to distinguish between institutions and outcomes, noting that court-packing secures chances of winning cases but does not strengthen the institution or our trust in it. In essence, it may delegitimize the Court, however, there is no reason to think that evaluation of an institution and evaluation of its outcomes are distinct endeavors. Certainly, some outcomes have undermined the legitimacy of the institution.

But this distinction between the Court as independent body or the Court as political tool requires further explanation and justification. Otherwise, the definition being adopted is that “bona fide institutional reform” merely excludes consideration of desired political ends for arbitrary reasons. On the other hand, while potentially useful even as a potential threat, if there is going to be a plan for packing, it also cannot be arbitrary. That plan must come from a particular vision of the purpose and function of the Court.

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The Politics of Ego

Photograph of former Starbucks CEO sitting on a stage gesturing with his hands spread

This article has a set of discussion questions tailored for classroom use. Click here to download them. To see a full list of articles with discussion questions and other resources, visit our “Educational Resources” page.

It is no secret that hyperpartisanship amongst the American electorate is rampant and is only growing worse. In 1994, 17 percent of Democrats had a very unfavorable opinion of Republicans, with that number at 21 percent for Republicans’ attitudes towards Democrats. As of 2016, those numbers have risen to 55 percent and 58 percent, respectively. About eight-in-ten Americans now even say that Democrats and Republicans cannot agree on basic facts. This partisanship has had a paralyzing effect on American political functions in recent decades. The 100th U.S. Congress (1987-1988) was able to pass 7 percent of bills that hit the floor into law. For the 115thU.S. Congress (2017-2018), that number has been cut by more than half at 3 percent. However, at what appears to be the pinnacle of American partisanship, a push for centrism has emerged amongst the candidates for the 2020 presidential race.

Ex-CEO of Starbucks, Howard Schultz, announced he is “seriously considering” a presidential bid as an Independent in January of this year. In a statement he wrote on Medium, Schultz called out hyperpartisanship, accusing  “the far right and the far left” of “holding our government hostage by engaging in revenge politics and preventing sensible solutions to big challenges.” He highlighted America’s “broken two-party system” which fails to give power to every person’s vote, and emphasized most Americans’ desire for “cooperation in Washington.” The solution to America’s shortcomings, in Schultz’s opinion, is to have a “credible, centrist independent on the ballot in all 50 states.” Schultz appears to believe that this “credible, centrist independent” is himself, given his interest in casting a presidential bid. Despite his apparent devotion to truly representing the American people, Schultz appears to be lacking a platform.

In an interview with CNBC, Schultz gave hollow answers about his political positions. For instance, when pressed about immigration, Schultz stated that the U.S. should pursue a “good immigration policy.” Similarly, when asked about the national debt, Schultz claimed that the debt is “the greatest threat domestically to the country,” but made no allusion to how it should be addressed. According to his original statement on Medium, his primary policy strategy is to “draw upon the best ideas from all sides.” Yet, on the issues, it seems as though Schultz is merely criticizing both sides of the political spectrum instead of highlighting their best ideas. A lifelong Democrat up until this point, Schultz believes that the Democratic Party is moving too far to the left, and has expressed disdain for Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s proposed Green New Deal. Schultz has been less specific in his criticism of the right, but has made his distaste for President Trump very clear, accusing him of “creating episodic chaos every day.” In an interview, Schultz claimed, “I will do nothing on any level to proceed [in his campaign] if I thought that in proceeding I would in any way persuade Americans to vote and re-elect Donald Trump.” Since Schultz was a lifelong Democrat, one might expect it would most effectively block Trump from being re-elected if he ran as a moderate Democrat and pushed bipartisan policy from there, as it would mitigate the risk of him splitting the Democratic vote. However, Schultz insists on running his campaign as an Independent, making it appear as though he expects the American people to trust him to be the solution to the nation’s woes. Schultz wants to run for president not because he believes he can fix hyperpartisanship, but because he believes he is entitled to the post.

Schultz’s ego infiltrating the political sphere is not an isolated case, nor have political egos ever been uncommon. The ex-CEO considering a presidential bid simply because he can afford to do so is somewhat reminiscent of Victorian-era monarchs and industrial party bosses from the U.S.’s Gilded Age. While those examples both lie in the extreme, ego in American politics now shows itself in more subtle ways. For instance, just earlier this month President Trump autographed Bibles while on a trip in Alabama to survey disaster damage from recent tornadoes. Similarly, and also occurring earlier this month, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell blocked a sweeping voting rights bill from reaching the Senate floor. When asked why he would not even see the bill, McConnell responded simply by saying, “Because I get to decide what we vote on.” The egos that dominate the political sphere also trickle down to infect public discourse.

While not a direct cause, inflated egos in American politics definitely contribute to the nation’s hyperpartisanship. The most apparent example of this relationship is the bloated field of candidates for the 2020 Democratic presidential nomination. So far, 13 candidates have announced their campaigns, while two more have announced exploratory committees. The large number of candidates has already begun a trend of hyperpartisanship within the Democratic Party, with centrists and progressives settling in to polarized camps. This not only poses the risk of the Democratic Party dividing itself and alienating potential voters, but also of an unrepresentative candidate being nominated as happened with Donald Trump and the Republican Party in 2016 (the largest primary in American history). This is not to say that all of the Democratic candidates are running glamour campaigns, and even those who are do not rival the ego of Howard Schultz.

Schultz poses a particularly interesting case in ego politics, as he claims a platform of bipartisanship, while espousing beliefs that deepen partisan ties. In merely criticizing Democrats and Republicans alike, Schultz does not draw people closer to the center, but drags them further into negative partisanship. In order for centrism and third parties to be successful, they must forge their own path in addition to highlighting the shortcomings of other parties. This work, however, does not begin with a presidential candidate, but with a shift in political culture. A major weakness of centrism, and of third parties in the U.S. in general, is that it tends to lack a direct path.  Third parties in the U.S. typically fall into defining themselves by relative comparison to what they are not or what they are against, making them more susceptible to becoming about candidates rather than about ideas (as is the case with Schultz). Thus, Schultz’s potential campaign becomes a test for American centrists to either accept unhelpful criticism without resolve in supporting Schultz, or to forge their own initiatives to escape polarization if they truly wish to do so. America’s two-party system deserves to be reevaluated, but jumping onto the political scene without solutions does not offer any potential for progress.

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Esquire and the Life of an American Boy

Sculpture of Esquire magazine's logo

This month Esquire magazine published an article titled “The Life of an American Boy at 17” on their website. It profiles the day-to-day of a white, male teenager from Wisconsin named Ryan, who seems to have a life similar to many other white, male teenagers from Wisconsin: his routine consists of getting up early to work, going to school, hanging out with friends and his girlfriend, and playing videogames. When asked about various social and political issues he expresses his beliefs, although it’s not clear how well he has them worked out (when asked what he thought about the #metoo movement, for example, he responded “I’ve heard of that…What does it mean again?”). All in all, the article profiles what appears to be an average, not terribly politically engaged or well-informed teenager.

The response to the article, however, has been more than mere frustration at its lack of content. One criticism is that it was a questionable choice on Esquire’s behalf to present a profile of a white teenager during Black History month. This is not to say that there must be a moratorium on stories about white people during the entirety of February, nor is it to say that a profile on what it means to grow up as a white male teenager in the current political climate would not be worthwhile. However, since the profile is presented as the first of a series on growing up in America from the perspective of many different types of people – “white, black, LGBTQ, female” according to Esquire’s editor Jay Fielden –  the choice to present this particular profile first, and during Black History month, struck some as tone-deaf.

Others criticized Esquire for portraying the profile’s subject as a victim of political correctness: in response to saying that he supported Trump, for example, Ryan lamented that “Last year was really bad…I couldn’t say anything without pissing someone off.” As many online responded, given the challenges faced by members of the other groups that Esquire will ostensibly profile in the future, the fear of “pissing someone off” is pretty small potatoes. “Finally, the representation we’ve been waiting for” expressed one popular Tweet in response to pictures from the Esquire piece, one in which the profiled subject is holding a hunting rifle: “magazine covers are very important and powerful real estate…they empower those that feel reflected…and the people who see this don’t super need to feel empowered right now! Especially the ones with guns!!!”

In a defense of the piece, however, Fielden explains what he takes to be serious issues facing people like Ryan today, as well as his own children:

We disagree as a country on every possible cultural and political point except, perhaps, one: that private life, as a result, has also become its own fresh hell. This has made the very social fabric of modern democratic civilization – watercooler BS, chats with cabbies and total strangers, dinner parties, large family gatherings – sometimes feel like a Kafkaesque thought-police nightmare of paranoia and nausea, in which you might accidentally say what you really believe and get burned at the stake. A crackling debate used to be as important an ingredient of a memorable night out as what was served and who else was there. People sometimes even argued a position they might not have totally agreed with, partly for the thrilling intellectual exercise playing devil’s advocate can be, but mostly for the drunken hell of it. Being intellectually puritanical was considered backward. More often than not, it was all a lot of fun.

Fielden’s worries seem to be the following: in such a partisan climate one must be constantly on their guard about the kinds of beliefs they express, lest they be chastised by those who disagree, whereas perhaps in a different time people may not have been so worried about offending others, and so felt much more free to express their beliefs (no matter how potentially offensive). Dealing with this climate must be particularly difficult for teenagers, Fieldman goes on to claim, and especially white teenage boys, who need to wrestle with concepts like “#MeToo, gender fluidity, Black Lives Matter, ‘check your privilege,’ and #TheFutureIsFemale.”

While the kinds of concerns expressed by Fielden and Ryan are readily found online, it’s not clear how warranted they are. The worries that Fielden expresses above, for example, border on hyperbole: despite his portrayal of a “Kafkaesque thought-police nightmare,” dinner parties full of enjoyable conversation and arguments are alive and well, and people do, in fact, continue to “BS” around the watercooler. Fielden is perhaps correct that society has started to take the kind of talk that used to be dismissed as inconsequential more seriously, but it seems that, if anything, this is a change for the better, not the beginning of a slide into some 1984-style dystopia. (For example, one is reminded of Trump’s claim that his infamous remarks about where he felt entitled to grab women was simply “locker [room] talk”: while Trump was no doubt correct that there does occur locker room talk with similarly vulgar content, society moving in a direction in which such talk ceases to exists hardly seems lamentable.)

Part of the problem with Fielden’s concerns that Ryan is being unduly censored for expressing his political views is that he does not seem to have given those views too much thought. From the article:

The most popular opinion at [Ryan’s high school] West Bend seemed to be anti-Trump. Ryan, raised in Republican households, was surprised by the vitriol. “Everyone hates me because I support Trump?” he says. “I couldn’t debate anyone without being shut down and called names. Like, what did I do wrong?” […] I also ask him about Trump’s reputation as a misogynist.  “He is respectful towards his wife, as far as I know,” he says. “I don’t think he is racist or sexist.”

Ryan is certainly not alone is not being as informed about his beliefs as he could be. But if one expresses a political opinion without an adequate understanding of why one holds it then it does not seem like a bad thing that they should be taken to task for it. If this is what those like Fielden and Ryan are worried about – the loss of the ability to express one’s views no matter how well-supported without being challenged – then these worries seem to be misplaced.

We’ve seen that there do seem to be good reasons to be concerned with both the timing of Esquire’s profile, as well as the way in which an average white, male, American teenager is portrayed as a victim for his political views. Perhaps one thing we can take away from the article, then, is that instead of society becoming more “intellectually puritanical,” as Fielden puts it, we should consider it progress that people are starting to prefer that their “crackling debates” and watercooler conversations start from a more informed position.

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Why Conservatives Should Support Obamacare’s Individual Mandate

For the moment, Republicans are setting aside their seven-year effort to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act.  A slew of bills failed in the Senate, and now President Trump and the Republican majority in Congress plan on turning to tax reform.  But doubtless, before long we’ll be hearing about the Affordable Care Act again. Not only do conservatives despise it, but even Democrats think it needs work. What I’d most like conservatives to rethink, during this interim peace, is their opposition to the individual mandate.

Continue reading “Why Conservatives Should Support Obamacare’s Individual Mandate”