Columnist Greg Sargent↱ suggests:
It's not actually a new phenomenon, and it's not just Donald Trump. Rather, Sargent refers to a powerful complicating influence in American political discourse: "You can't defeat an opponent," scolds Bret Stephens, "if you refuse to understand what makes him formidable." The New York Times columnist and former Wall Street Journal editor offers up another ritual tithe to conservative idolatry: His point is that Trump's critics need to stop saying things about Trump or his supporters that Trump and his supporters don't like. "Maybe it's time", Stephens preaches↱, "to think a little more deeply about the enduring sources of his appeal".
But that's the thing, the enduring sources of Trump's appeal are his supremacist, authoritarian attitudes and thrill of empowerment people feel in behaving abusively. According to Stephens, Trump's critics should criticize "without calling him names, or disparaging his supporters, or attributing his resurgence to nefarious foreign actors or the unfairness of the Electoral College."
In other words, critics are supposed to address the supremacism without calling it supremacism, receive and engage supporters without upsetting them, hear Trump boast of his corruption without saying anything about it, and hear him make false claims about elections without responding. This comes back to the heart of Stephens' argument: The enduring source of Trump's appeal is the supremacism as justification for abusive behavior.
And the thing is, this isn't new. Stephens is just trying for another ring around the ouroburos. Back in 2016, for instance, someone tried similar lines, pretending, "One thing that Trump's election should have taught all of us 'liberals' is that we shouldn't be merely dismissing the views of people who voted for him as obviously crazy, or motivated by racism or sexism or any of those other bad things." Even at the time, the phrase "merely dismissing" was a tell; the point was to diminish the complaint about Trump, just as Stephens, these years later, similarly misrepresents the argument he criticizes.
Or, as Sargent↱ explained:
Stephens tries to lecture about why liberals cannot defeat what they have already defeated once directly, and twice by proxy. The NYT columnist skips out on history in order to wag and warn and moralize. And that's the thing, plenty of liberals alerady understand what is at the heart of Trump's enduring appeal; the great mystery that remains is what to do about it, because the behavioral question suggests something akin to both religion and addiction, an overriding neurotic solipsism by which the arbiter of truth is if it feels good.
When the pretense suggested, years ago, what "all us 'liberals' should have learned", the advice ignored history: American bigotry was not new in 2015; it existed, just like misogyny really existed before 1962, white supremacism existed before 1954, antisemitism existed before 1922, and homophobia existed before 1993.
Back in 2016, the antiliberal line said liberal "paternalism and condescension" are why people voted for Trump, and inasmuch as there is a context in which that is not wrong, it is still ahistorical: Colloquially, sure, it is true that disagreeing with this kind of conservative about anything only entrenches them; more subtle discussions of the behavior and its behavioral economy are long, tortuous, and include a large hazard zone that is the unreliability and dysfunction of the conservative self-reported data set.
Neither is this a new phenomenon. Stephens' admonition to NYT readers is the same sort of thing we heard forty years ago in the Christianist complaint about music. It was always censorship, misogyny, racism, and Christian supremacism, but because it was derived from traditional sentiment, we weren't supposed to use words that might upset the Christianist censors. As a society, we turned the First Amendment on its head by pretending speech was a physical assault: "Your right to free speech," they said, "ends at my ear." That's how the First Amendment required religious censorship, and if you look closely, you will see the sleight in much conservative argument, and close to the heart of Trump's appeal: They can only be equal if they are held superior under law.
For Stephens and others who wag such flaccid complaints, it is the appeal to traditionalism that charges and hardens and sustains the argument; it has no more substance than the actual chemicals of the brain chemistry resulting in those particular thoughts and feelings.
But this is also an observable cycle: If the critique against these ahistorical antiliberal pretenses feels invalidating, then that sense of invalidation becomes the new moral wag about refusing to understand, or merely dismissing, or saying things that make people feel invalidated. For Stephens, Trump's critics must "think a little more deeply", "and do so without" saying things that might distress Trump supporters. The only way to understand, as such, is to not upset Trump supporters.
It's a familiar argument, and if someone delivered me a version of it several years ago, it was already familiar, back then. And if you look around, it's almost as traditional as traditionalism: The only way to participate decently is to say nothing that might offend people who are existentially offended at the mere fact that someone disagrees with them.
And if some would question Sargent's description of a "blind spot", Ockham probably prefers it compared to more cynical or even sinister implications; this manner of fear and favor is not a two-way street in American history and politics. It only ever works one way. Fear and favor are more easily shown toward the influence of familiarity, i.e., what is traditional or otherwise similarly accepted, even to the point of preferring unreality.
But that explanation can feel insufficient simply for the persistence of the phenomenon: While it is easy enough to imagine human frailty occasionally having significant effect, consider that Sargent is reaching back three elections in which the notorious "view from nowhere"↗ of political reporting, analysis, and punditry has, at best, failed to acknowledge reality. And if we reach back beyond that, yes, clearly the 2016 election, too; it's been going on for a long time.
If the question is who or what benefits from the orthodoxy of separating morality from news reporting, the answer has long been obvious: Institutional authority and traditional belief.
And what it hurts is just as obvious: The journalistic doctrine known as the view from nowhere actually disrupts accurate communication of facts; that is, it hurts truth.
It's like looking back further, to the "Fairness Doctrine", which was considered unfair because it prevented the silencing of dissent↗.
That is to say, the "blind spot" is not a new phenomenon, which is an important point to consider. Parsimony aside, the question of a blind spot comes, under these particular circumstances, with massive implications: What is a blind spot, an accident, that persists for decades?
But the flip-side reads even worse. Ockham prefers the blind spot because its complexity is more straightforward; more cynical or sinister implications, such as wilful and conscious subversion at mass-media scale must account for a greater number of complications. It's one thing if conservative commentary must insist on unreality, but the idea that "reporters" of "news" are somehow duty-bound to muddle the facts is a perversion of journalistic justification.
Meanwhile, Stephens grift old and roadworn, only capable of pitching opposition in terms sympathetic to what he opposes, and recognizing nothing of the position he pretends. This sort of pitch didn't arrive in trumptime; it's been around. And like the would-be "blind spot", it only works in a certain way.
____________________
Notes:
@GregTSargent. "On a profound level, many in the media elite/punditry simply refuse to accept that Dems/liberals have defeated or dramatically outperformed Trump/MAGA in the last three national elections. This is regularly erased from the story of the Trump era. It's a remarkable blind spot." X. 11 January 2024. Twitter.com. 15 January 2024. https://bit.ly/3RV9ahn
Stephens, Brett. "The Case for Trump … by Someone Who Wants Him to Lose". The New York Times. 11 January 2024. NYTimes.com. 15 January 2024. https://bit.ly/48Q0oYL
On a profound level, many in the media elite/punditry simply refuse to accept that Dems/liberals have defeated or dramatically outperformed Trump/MAGA in the last three national elections.
This is regularly erased from the story of the Trump era. It's a remarkable blind spot.
This is regularly erased from the story of the Trump era. It's a remarkable blind spot.
It's not actually a new phenomenon, and it's not just Donald Trump. Rather, Sargent refers to a powerful complicating influence in American political discourse: "You can't defeat an opponent," scolds Bret Stephens, "if you refuse to understand what makes him formidable." The New York Times columnist and former Wall Street Journal editor offers up another ritual tithe to conservative idolatry: His point is that Trump's critics need to stop saying things about Trump or his supporters that Trump and his supporters don't like. "Maybe it's time", Stephens preaches↱, "to think a little more deeply about the enduring sources of his appeal".
But that's the thing, the enduring sources of Trump's appeal are his supremacist, authoritarian attitudes and thrill of empowerment people feel in behaving abusively. According to Stephens, Trump's critics should criticize "without calling him names, or disparaging his supporters, or attributing his resurgence to nefarious foreign actors or the unfairness of the Electoral College."
In other words, critics are supposed to address the supremacism without calling it supremacism, receive and engage supporters without upsetting them, hear Trump boast of his corruption without saying anything about it, and hear him make false claims about elections without responding. This comes back to the heart of Stephens' argument: The enduring source of Trump's appeal is the supremacism as justification for abusive behavior.
And the thing is, this isn't new. Stephens is just trying for another ring around the ouroburos. Back in 2016, for instance, someone tried similar lines, pretending, "One thing that Trump's election should have taught all of us 'liberals' is that we shouldn't be merely dismissing the views of people who voted for him as obviously crazy, or motivated by racism or sexism or any of those other bad things." Even at the time, the phrase "merely dismissing" was a tell; the point was to diminish the complaint about Trump, just as Stephens, these years later, similarly misrepresents the argument he criticizes.
Or, as Sargent↱ explained:
"You can’t defeat an opponent if you refuse to understand what makes him formidable," says Bret Stephens.
But Bret, Dems *did defeat Trump in the 2020 election.* Between 2018, 2020 and 2022, Trump presided over the worst string of GOP losses in many years. All of this happened!
But Bret, Dems *did defeat Trump in the 2020 election.* Between 2018, 2020 and 2022, Trump presided over the worst string of GOP losses in many years. All of this happened!
Stephens tries to lecture about why liberals cannot defeat what they have already defeated once directly, and twice by proxy. The NYT columnist skips out on history in order to wag and warn and moralize. And that's the thing, plenty of liberals alerady understand what is at the heart of Trump's enduring appeal; the great mystery that remains is what to do about it, because the behavioral question suggests something akin to both religion and addiction, an overriding neurotic solipsism by which the arbiter of truth is if it feels good.
When the pretense suggested, years ago, what "all us 'liberals' should have learned", the advice ignored history: American bigotry was not new in 2015; it existed, just like misogyny really existed before 1962, white supremacism existed before 1954, antisemitism existed before 1922, and homophobia existed before 1993.
Back in 2016, the antiliberal line said liberal "paternalism and condescension" are why people voted for Trump, and inasmuch as there is a context in which that is not wrong, it is still ahistorical: Colloquially, sure, it is true that disagreeing with this kind of conservative about anything only entrenches them; more subtle discussions of the behavior and its behavioral economy are long, tortuous, and include a large hazard zone that is the unreliability and dysfunction of the conservative self-reported data set.
Neither is this a new phenomenon. Stephens' admonition to NYT readers is the same sort of thing we heard forty years ago in the Christianist complaint about music. It was always censorship, misogyny, racism, and Christian supremacism, but because it was derived from traditional sentiment, we weren't supposed to use words that might upset the Christianist censors. As a society, we turned the First Amendment on its head by pretending speech was a physical assault: "Your right to free speech," they said, "ends at my ear." That's how the First Amendment required religious censorship, and if you look closely, you will see the sleight in much conservative argument, and close to the heart of Trump's appeal: They can only be equal if they are held superior under law.
For Stephens and others who wag such flaccid complaints, it is the appeal to traditionalism that charges and hardens and sustains the argument; it has no more substance than the actual chemicals of the brain chemistry resulting in those particular thoughts and feelings.
But this is also an observable cycle: If the critique against these ahistorical antiliberal pretenses feels invalidating, then that sense of invalidation becomes the new moral wag about refusing to understand, or merely dismissing, or saying things that make people feel invalidated. For Stephens, Trump's critics must "think a little more deeply", "and do so without" saying things that might distress Trump supporters. The only way to understand, as such, is to not upset Trump supporters.
It's a familiar argument, and if someone delivered me a version of it several years ago, it was already familiar, back then. And if you look around, it's almost as traditional as traditionalism: The only way to participate decently is to say nothing that might offend people who are existentially offended at the mere fact that someone disagrees with them.
And if some would question Sargent's description of a "blind spot", Ockham probably prefers it compared to more cynical or even sinister implications; this manner of fear and favor is not a two-way street in American history and politics. It only ever works one way. Fear and favor are more easily shown toward the influence of familiarity, i.e., what is traditional or otherwise similarly accepted, even to the point of preferring unreality.
But that explanation can feel insufficient simply for the persistence of the phenomenon: While it is easy enough to imagine human frailty occasionally having significant effect, consider that Sargent is reaching back three elections in which the notorious "view from nowhere"↗ of political reporting, analysis, and punditry has, at best, failed to acknowledge reality. And if we reach back beyond that, yes, clearly the 2016 election, too; it's been going on for a long time.
If the question is who or what benefits from the orthodoxy of separating morality from news reporting, the answer has long been obvious: Institutional authority and traditional belief.
And what it hurts is just as obvious: The journalistic doctrine known as the view from nowhere actually disrupts accurate communication of facts; that is, it hurts truth.
It's like looking back further, to the "Fairness Doctrine", which was considered unfair because it prevented the silencing of dissent↗.
That is to say, the "blind spot" is not a new phenomenon, which is an important point to consider. Parsimony aside, the question of a blind spot comes, under these particular circumstances, with massive implications: What is a blind spot, an accident, that persists for decades?
But the flip-side reads even worse. Ockham prefers the blind spot because its complexity is more straightforward; more cynical or sinister implications, such as wilful and conscious subversion at mass-media scale must account for a greater number of complications. It's one thing if conservative commentary must insist on unreality, but the idea that "reporters" of "news" are somehow duty-bound to muddle the facts is a perversion of journalistic justification.
Meanwhile, Stephens grift old and roadworn, only capable of pitching opposition in terms sympathetic to what he opposes, and recognizing nothing of the position he pretends. This sort of pitch didn't arrive in trumptime; it's been around. And like the would-be "blind spot", it only works in a certain way.
____________________
Notes:
@GregTSargent. "On a profound level, many in the media elite/punditry simply refuse to accept that Dems/liberals have defeated or dramatically outperformed Trump/MAGA in the last three national elections. This is regularly erased from the story of the Trump era. It's a remarkable blind spot." X. 11 January 2024. Twitter.com. 15 January 2024. https://bit.ly/3RV9ahn
Stephens, Brett. "The Case for Trump … by Someone Who Wants Him to Lose". The New York Times. 11 January 2024. NYTimes.com. 15 January 2024. https://bit.ly/48Q0oYL