Are We Better Than This?

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.” – Nietzsche

It is a popular notion to suggest that the problem with American politics is that they have been taken over by a a virulent strain of hyper-partisanship that rendering its victim paralyzed Opinions vary as to the appropriate vaccine, but I would like to suggest that any course of treatment for the malady will fail to be effective because the thrust of the prognosis is off-base.

It is certainly true that the American political process is characterized by alternating bouts of ideological paralysis and pendulous oscillation that in many regards is counterproductive. But as Matthew Yglesias reminded us just a year ago, partisanship isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Indeed, this post appears in the League’s  sustained discussion about what might constitute the “good side of partisanship”, wherein we’ve attempted to carve out the ways in which our ideological differences can be leveraged to the benefit of all.

No, in the discussion about what ails our political process, hyper-partisanship is properly understood not as the virus we seek to eradicate, but rather just another symptom of a much deeper affliction: laziness.

Many people from both sides of the ideological street rightly view government and the political process as a necessary evil, an involuntary project that demands our attention and distracts us from more weighty pursuits. That view is not without merit, especially insofar as political discourse is run through with an entrenched vapidity that primarily serves its sophistic participants. But I would submit that for all its glaring flaws, the political process need not necessarily be Sisyphean in nature. Further, the seeming pointless de rigueur of that process is both bug and feature of our own unwillingness to apply a quality of engagement that would right the ship.

That the practice of politics might lead us to an improved quality of life dates back to the original political thinkers, Plato and Aristotle. Though divergent on their approach and ultimate outcome sought, both great philosophers were in agreement with Bismark in seeing politics as the “art of the possible”. The possible, in this regard, being a state of affairs not currently in existence, but that, with diligence and persistence, might yet come to be.

Therein, of course, lies the rub of our current predicament: politics as the realization of a better state of affairs requires effort, it requires hard work and dedication, it requires a commitment. All of these sentiments are notably absent from the arena in which our contemporary ideological gladiators find themselves engaged. To be sure, sweat can be seen dripping from brows on any given Sunday, but this is a banal truism when one’s training has consisted of a steadfast belief in the overwhelming ease of one’s task. Genius, as Edison noted, “is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.”

There is a structural point here, which is to say that human beings tend too often to be inclined towards the path of least resistance, even when that path marks the gait of mediocrity. And it is all too easy to slide into the low-hanging fruit of name-calling and mudslinging given our youthful familiarity with these juvenile activities. In short, hyper-partisanship requires very little of us, aside from a willingness to swaddle conventional wisdom in the cloths of self-righteous arrogance. Inasmuch as the human condition is lined with greater demonstrations of sinking to common denominators than rising to potential expectations, the Durdenesque fight club of hyper-partisanship is a sadly predictable state of affairs.

Far from a condemnation of the political class alone, such underwhelming fortitude has in many ways become the very essence of the American dream. Contemporary culture finds itself largely bereft of the wherewithal to shake off the malaise of modernity, addicted as it is to the primacy of instant gratification and chronic whateverism. In many ways, we’ve become the victims of our own success, the shining examples of a fitter, happier future.

James Poulos has valiantly chronicled (start there and follow the rabbit hole down as far as you dare) the gradual (frenetic?) jettisoning of moral imperatives towards a sustained inquiry on how we might choose to live and of what the good life might consist in favour of the magpie’s disposition towards all things shiny. Disagree as I might with James on some issues around the liberalization of social norms, it’s hard to avoid that in many respects we have receded from the high watermark of “land of the free, home of the brave,” to the sad reality of a prozac nation.

In the face of that degradation, should it be any surprise that our practice of politics has suffered via corresponding proximal osmosis? Probably not.

But readers of this site will know that I’m not a pessimist by nature, and would scarcely authour such a down trodden screed if I didn’t think there was a viable alternative awaiting our attention. To wit, you may well have noted several hundred words ago that bastions of resistance, little platoons of authenticity have sprung up in a variety of locales designed specifically to counter this ubiquitous lack of integrity. You may also have noted that far from the standard operating procedures, within the walls of those resilient communities hyper-partisanship is a regular target for mockery and a healthy respect for dissenting perspectives is the norm of the adequate.

I would add that these genealogies of resistance are houses built upon the rocks of erudition and diligence, a fact that speaks to the potential for a brighter future should we rouse ourselves to the challenge. In short, there are reasons to be hopeful, but never reasons to be complacent. Like Harvey Dent, we must make our own luck.

In closing, I am reminded of a Chomsky quote with which I came into contact back in my more radical lefty days and that has stuck with me in spite of twists and turns,

If you assume there’s no hope, you guarantee that there will be no hope. If you assume that there is  an instinct for freedom, there are opportunities to change things, there’s a chance you may contribute to making a better world. That’s your choice.

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