In Part 3, I defended the need for decentralization and a robust civil society. Building on that point is the need for apolitical spaces, so that we can work together with people of different ideological persuasions in doing good.
This is, of course, a fairly rich perspective, coming as part of an eight-part series on politics and political orientations. But there is much more to life than political views.
This is, of course, a fairly rich perspective, coming as part of an eight-part series on politics and political orientations. But there is much more to life than political views.
There is a frequent debate (often by proxy) between two perspectives on how life and politics should interact. One view states that it is best to keep politics and other parts of life separate.The other postulates that the personal is inevitably political, and that those who seek to keep politics and life separate merely oversee that their own political preferences are *implicit* in the areas they seek to “protect.”
This second view is compelling, but in a world we do not understand, the advocates of separate spheres have the stronger argument.
First is the more prosaic one: in a world we don’t understand, we are likely to be wrong, periodically. Keeping contact with and listening to people who have differing views is one way to insure ourselves against error. We can learn things, or be persuaded that our approach on a given issue is more likely to be mistaken.
But there is a deeper rationale. If we accept that life is improved by the connections that we make, it doesn’t really make sense to preclude personal attachments and socialization with people who don’t agree with us on politics. What an impoverished view of the depths of human contact! There are so many dimensions of human contact in the real world: physical chemistry, sports, hobbies, conversational styles, religion, philosophy, scientific inquiry, and musical interests, among thousands of others. Why eliminate possible gains across those dimensions because of a disaffinity on a single dimension, politics, particularly when those politics may be misguided anyway?
This is not merely about rejecting gains; it’s also about assistance in the tough times. Human societies are full of sadness, loss, hardship, and loneliness. The connections we make can help us through those difficult emotions and can allow us the ability to bond with a greater number of people. When politics produce outcomes that depress us, when we lose our loved ones, when our long-term significant other terminates our relationship, when our favorite sports team loses in crushing fashion--all of these experiences produce varying degrees of despair. Having a broad array of connections and people to share our interests and hobbies with makes those times easier.
This is an easy, consequence-free position to have as a white male. To use the academic jargon: I am privileged enough to have the opportunity to set aside politics, because it doesn’t directly affect me. But for those who do feel that politics bombards them because of their choices or their “invisible backpack,” to what end does living in a perpetually-political world lead? Does it make you happier? Does it increase the odds of politics turning out the way you want them to, of the outcomes turning in your favor? I contend, simply, that it does not. Privilege is a fact of life, and one that it makes sense to recognize in our political lives. But allowing it to consume the rest of things does not necessarily result in sustainable change. If anything, it generates a backlash from those who are accused of “privilege” but don’t feel it in their daily lives. A 45-year old white man in rural Indiana is “privileged” under the hierarchies of privilege theory, but if he’s divorced with two drug-addicted teenage kids and has been in and out of part time jobs for 15 years, he probably doesn’t see it that way. And if 2016 proved anything, it’s that backlash is toxic.
There is a third rationale that is equally important: the politicization of everyday life leads almost inexorably to the desire for government involvement in everyday life. Politics is a long-term discussion about what government should do. But government is force, first and foremost. It’s a blunt instrument that has a monopoly of violence over a given area. Any law that is passed compelling someone to do something is ultimately backed by the force of arms, and could be enforced by a man or woman in a uniform with a gun.
All of this leads to where we should be headed: a bias towards tolerance and toleration rather than uniformity and acceptance. As a society, we should encourage acceptance of difference, but the force of government should insist on a society where people of difference tolerate one another. Moving in the direction of acceptance is a rejection of this sort of difference and the liberty interest of folks who reject someone else’s choices, and it ultimately results in the politicization of non-political spheres. Resentment, not harmony, is the byproduct, and force, not persuasion, is the tool.
A final point: Part of the problem here is the cultural ubiquity of the president. He is everywhere, and anywhere the president is involved, politics (almost) inevitably follows. A president who actively shunned the spotlight, and remained in political spheres, would help depoliticize more of society.
A final point: Part of the problem here is the cultural ubiquity of the president. He is everywhere, and anywhere the president is involved, politics (almost) inevitably follows. A president who actively shunned the spotlight, and remained in political spheres, would help depoliticize more of society.
In Part 5, I will defend the rule of law.
No comments:
Post a Comment