In his book, The Present Age, the late sociologist Robert Nisbet
applied a pithy descriptor to a phenomenon we have seen all too often
in public life: the “no-fault” theory of political action, particularly
in foreign affairs. “Presidents, secretaries, and generals and admirals
in America seemingly subscribe to the doctrine that no fault ever
attaches to policy and operations,” he wrote. “This No Fault conviction
prevents them from taking too seriously such notorious foul-ups as
Desert One, Grenada, Lebanon, and now the Persian Gulf.”
Nisbet
did not live to see a spectacular example of his theory. George W. Bush,
having failed to prevent the 9/11 disaster his own intelligence
agencies foresaw, proceeded to initiate a years-long disaster in Iraq, a
catastrophe of his own making. Yet what were the consequences? The
American people rewarded him with a second term in the face of abundant
evidence of his incompetence and bad faith.
It would appear that
Nisbet’s thesis needs revision. What he said was blatantly obvious: of
course politicians rarely blame themselves for their own egregious
policy failures, for it characterizes the typical behavior of ambitious,
self-confident, and often corner-cutting people.
We
frequently hear calls for “accountability:” for politicians, tech
moguls, and the like... How telling then, that there are no such calls
for accountability when it comes to the American people.
What is
more significant, and troubling, is the reaction of the people who elect
them: why do they more often than not reward leaders who inveigle them
into national calamity? Isn’t there also a no-fault doctrine that
applies to the American voter, a doctrine that is for the most part
rigidly observed by journalists, pundits, and the self-proclaimed wise
men who monopolize the op-ed pages of the prestige newspapers?
From
the platforms of the chattering classes, we frequently hear calls for
“accountability:” for politicians, tech moguls, and the like. Holding
someone accountable implies that the person in question is a functioning
adult who can be considered responsible for his actions. How telling
then, that there are no such calls for accountability when it comes to
the American people.
Turning back to Bush, his reelection did not
end his reign of error. His policy of radical financial deregulation,
about which he and his underlings bragged incessantly, and about which
the public had to know if it were remotely paying attention, led in his
second term to the greatest financial meltdown in 80 years.
Temporarily
chastened, voters latched on to Barack Obama as the savior du jour. It
turned out that Obama was no Moses leading the people to the promised
land. A nominal Democrat, he was more an old-school Rockefeller
Republican whose two terms were mostly an uneventful placeholder in
history—not that such administrations are necessarily bad, as the
current all-enveloping chaos demonstrates.
But placid,
play-it-safe presidencies are boring, particularly for an increasingly
infantilized public that needs 24/7 entertainment to stave off that
worst of mental states: honest self-reflection. So they grew tired of
Perry Como’s crooning, hankering instead after Ozzy Osbourne smashing
his guitar and biting the head off a bat. That explains a good deal
about how we got Trump 1.0 and 2.0.
Placid,
play-it-safe presidencies are boring, particularly for an increasingly
infantilized public that needs 24/7 entertainment to stave off that
worst of mental states: honest self-reflection.
Wait, say the pundits, weren’t great swathes of the American people in 2016 victimized by the system, suffering from “economic anxiety?” But exit polling data from 2016 showed
that Hillary Clinton won by 12 points among voters making less than
$30,000 a year and by nine points among those making between $30,000 and
$49,999. Trump, on the other hand, won every demographic making $50,000
or more
In 2024, the U.S. economy was the best in almost 60 years, with October unemployment at 4.1 percent.
This is not to argue that everything was ideal, but the economy was
better than recent U.S. experience, and unemployment and GDP growth were
far better than most developed countries.
Accordingly, pundits
dropped the economic anxiety excuse. Instead, we have been inundated
with think pieces about how Democrats in some unexplained way “lost the working class,”
a demographic conveniently left undefined. This claim contradicts
continued polling evidence that Trump consistently did better among more
affluent voters. The notion that Trump has magnetic appeal among
Americans living a precarious economic existence is largely myth.
Otherwise,
the media has treated Trump’s election like an asteroid falling from
the sky, a natural disaster seemingly without input from the electorate.
Why? It may be that the press still refuses to violate the last moral
taboo in American public life: the essential innocence and virtue of
this country’s citizens.
Denouncing the rascality of politicians
is a revered American tradition, from Artemus Ward to Mark Twain, to
Will Rogers, right down to the late-night TV hosts of today. Even the
ultra-refined Henry Adams, scion of the Adams's of presidential fame, approvingly quoted the line, “A congressman is a hog! You must take a stick and beat him on the snout!”
Perhaps
the only well-known American literary figure to take a dim view of the
people who actually elect the politicians was H.L. Mencken. He denounced
vigilantism during World War I, Prohibition, the 1920s resurgence of
the Ku Klux Klan, and the revival of religious fundamentalism that same
decade, not as some plague that befell the country from nowhere, but as
an _expression_ of Americans’ mob mentality, anti-intellectualism, and
search for easy solutions.
Otherwise, American literary tradition
gives us Walt Whitman singing the praises of his fellow citizens, Carl
Sandberg (“the people, yes . . .”), Thorton Wilder and his sentimental
tale of small-town folks, and Frank Capra’s maudlin cinematic paeans to
the fundamental goodness of the common clay. Thousands of lesser lights
have engaged in similar rhetorical puffery to the present day. The
tragic, grown-up sense of social life in Victor Hugo or the great
Russian novelists is absent from the American tradition.
Mystification merely being academic slang for bamboozlement, the theory never answers the question: why are the people so easily conned by the most childish lies and distortions...?
Editorial
departments still hew to this convention. A journalist friend recently
submitted a piece to a well-known center-left magazine arguing that some
responsibility must attach to the voters for the 2024 election. The
response: “We can’t say the American people are stupid,” even though the
editor agreed with the author.
Political theorists from the
center to the far left are also prone to this delusion. They have built
an edifice of psychological denial on the idea that even if there is a
pervasive system of illegitimate corporate or governmental control, it
is miraculously unconnected with the character of the people the system
administers. Noam Chomsky’s Manufacturing Consent
is typical of the species, a late-20th century adaptation of Karl
Marx’s theory of mystification: that the common people do not recognize
their genuine interest because they have been mystified by the
powers-that-be.
Mystification merely being academic slang for bamboozlement, the theory never answers the question: why
are the people so easily conned by the most childish lies and
distortions when accurate information is easily accessible, and never
more so than today? (This is quite apart from the fact that Trump told
voters very explicitly about the horrors he would inflict, meaning that
something other than gullibility is also at work).
It wasn’t always thus: farmers in the 1890s, the core support for the old People’s Party,
knew very well who was screwing them: the railroads, the banks, the
grain traders. So did 1930s production-line workers in steel, autos, and
rubber, struggling for union recognition:
they knew it was their own employers, not foreign competition or some
culture-wars chimera that was responsible for their miserable
conditions.
But now, farmers vote overwhelmingly
for Trump, despite their suffering under foreign retaliatory tariffs
resulting from his ill-considered economic policy during his first term
and likely further damage in his second. And unionization is at record post-World War II lows, despite the material benefits of union membership.
What changed? Historian Rick Perlstein, writing in The Invisible Bridge,
said that in the 1970s, as the crises of Vietnam, racial unrest, and
Watergate abated, the American people had a chance to learn from these
events: in other words, to grow up and be responsible citizens.
They
didn’t. Ronald Reagan’s soothing fairy tale of innocent virtue, of a
country sinned against but never sinning, became America’s secular
religion. I would extend Perlstein’s thesis by suggesting that this
bogus innocence has become embedded in the American psyche and
individualized into a personalized martyr complex. Every vicissitude of
life is now the fault of some detested minority, or the elites, or the
system generally.
The vanguard of this personality type, the
people who actually generate the atrocious ideas the Trump regime is now
implementing, is what substacker John Ganz calls
the “creep-loser.” You know the type from high school: awkward,
asocial, and full of resentment against the world for failing to
recognize his genius.
Many of them become brooding, failed
intellectuals, the sort that were the idea engine of authoritarian
movements throughout the 20th century, and who now infest places like
the Claremont Institute and Heritage Foundation. They are to MAGA what
the Old Bolsheviks were to the Communist movement. It is no coincidence
that Steve Bannon described himself as a Leninist. Their goal is simply destruction as revenge.
It
is true that all of these resentful fantasists together would barely
fill a stadium: hardly a key national voting bloc. But their nihilistic
attitude is surprisingly prevalent among “real Americans” who never read
Ayn Rand or attended Hillsdale College. Beginning in 2015, pollsters
have been rather surprised at the frequency that respondents claim they
just want to “burn it all down,” not troubling themselves with what will happen to the social infrastructure that supports their very existence.
If
it reaches the point where Americans are sent to Guantanamo for their
political opinions, what will be the reaction of the unserious?
Add
to them the rapturist Christians, the hard core of the Christian
fundamentalist voting bloc (the largest single constituency of the
Republican Party). The belief that a millennial holocaust wiping out
earth is something to look forward to is in its basic psychology no
different from Hitler’s Götterdämmerung in the Berlin bunker or suicide
cults like Jim Jones’ People’s Temple. Even the wider fundamentalist
belief system is prone to rigidly separate human beings into the blessed
and the damned, a mindset hardly consistent with pluralist democracy.
A
final demographic is the most diffuse and least attached to any
ideology: the tens of millions of unserious Americans who refuse to take
anything seriously, for whom the smallest exercise of civic
responsibility is either uncool, or boring, or a violation of their
freedom to be irresponsible. Some of them voted for Trump because “he’s
funny;” you may know the type. No doubt they think even now that
plundering Greenland or sending combat troops to Gaza
is comedy gold. Others will apply a sort of degenerate folk wisdom that
they think is clever, saying they “always vote those in office out, and
those out of office in,” or some similar nonsense.
Other
unserious people feign a righteous anger over the price of eggs on the
assumption that the White House controls the cost of consumer goods
regardless of circumstances like bird flu.
The price of eggs or broiler chickens is much more important to them
than living under the rule of law or handing down a decent and humane
society to their children.
Maybe we were always deceived by popular culture, or misread it.
If
it reaches the point where Americans are sent to Guantanamo for their
political opinions, what will be the reaction of the unserious? No doubt
indifference, because it won’t affect them, just as arrests of Jews or
Social Democrats didn’t affect “good Germans”
in the 1930s. As for the true believers, whether religious
fundamentalist or secular neoreactionary tech-nerd, they’ll be cheering
it on: they never believed in any nonsense about democracy or human
rights in any case.
How can America’s purported thought-leaders
seriously maintain that a working majority of Americans (those who voted
for Trump and those who didn’t bother to vote because they didn’t care)
didn’t consciously will what is now unfolding? As Steve Bannon’s role
model Lenin was reputed to have remarked, “who says A must say B:”
people are intellectually and morally responsible for the consequences
of their actions. To argue otherwise is the equivalent of saying that
tens of millions of Americans are legally incapable of signing
contracts, marrying, driving cars, or exercising the franchise.
Maybe we were always deceived by popular culture, or misread it. It’s a Wonderful Life
is conventionally viewed as a heart-warming Christmas movie, with a
depressing second act making the finale all the more sentimentally
fulfilling, like Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Yet, but for the
contingency of George Bailey’s having been born and lived, Bedford Falls
inevitably would have defaulted to Potterville, hardly an affirmation
of the goodness and civic-mindedness of the majority, who might have
been expected to resist the designs of the grasping Mr. Potter.
Contingencies
work that way in real life, too. But for the pandemic and the resulting
inflation, we might be living in a different world. Alas, given the
recent price of eggs, most Americans preferred to ditch safe, staid old
Bedford Falls for the vulgar excitement of Potterville. The town’s
owner, whether Mr. Potter or Donald Trump, will cheerfully ensure that while he might fleece you for every cent and jail you if you defy him, you’ll never be bored.