Tuesday, November 30, 2021

The Left Belatedly Notices the Dangers of Ideological Conformity

By Kevin D. Williamson

Tuesday, November 30, 2021

 

Welcome to the party, pal!

 

Cancel culture, soft censorship, the stampeding herd of independent thinkers demanding absolute conformism in the name of tolerance and absolute obedience in the name of diversity — none of these is ever a problem until it happens to a progressive.

 

Today’s example is Andrew Solomon, who tells his tale in the New York Times under the headline: “My book was censored in China. Now it’s blacklisted — in Texas.”

 

Solomon’s book is not — you won’t be surprised to learn — blacklisted in Texas. All that has happened is that a state representative, Matt Krause, has asked Texas school districts about a list of books — 850 of them — wanting to know if they have them, how many copies, where they are, what they paid for them, etc. “Most of the books on the list deal with race, sexual orientation, abortion or gender identity,” Solomon writes. “Krause is one of several candidates hoping to unseat the incumbent Republican attorney general” — he isn’t, but he was — “and this bit of extremist theater is a maneuver to raise his profile among the ardent Trumpists and social conservatives likely to be G.O.P. primary voters.”

 

The project, Solomon argues, is a “cynical electoral stratagem by a bigoted politician,” which sounds about right to me, though Krause is not, in fact, a candidate for attorney general, having dropped out of that just before Solomon’s essay was published. Krause is a candidate for district attorney of Tarrant County, which includes Fort Worth; the biggest jackass in the race for attorney general, other than the attorney general himself, is, at the moment, Louie Gohmert.

 

Solomon quotes Anne Applebaum, who observes about Soviet-era suppression: “Actual censors were not always needed. Instead, a form of pervasive peer pressure convinced writers, journalists and everyone else to toe the party line; if they did not, they knew they risked being ejected from their jobs and shunned by their friends.”

 

I know a little about that, having been ejected from a job at the very magazine where Applebaum is a staff writer for failing to toe to the party line. If Solomon would like to know something about the experience of actually being blacklisted by, say, one of the major American book publishers, I’d be happy to tell him what it’s like.

 

And I am far from alone in my experience.

 

I think of Amazon’s effort to suppress books that take nonconforming views of transsexualism, the efforts of feminists, transexual advocates, and other left-wing critics to punish figures ranging from Camille Paglia to Harvey Mansfield to Dave Chappelle to nobodies at Google to previously anonymous high-school kids for crimes against progressive sensibilities, real and imagined. We have seen professors at major universities try to deploy actual mob violence against journalists and critics, professors driven out of major universities under ridiculous pretexts, violence directed at figures ranging from Charles Murray to College Republicans at Berkeley, arson and fire-bombings directed at right-leaning speakers on college campuses, etc. We have seen the New York Times itself acting as head cheerleader in an effort to get a college freshman kicked out of school over offenses against etiquette committed when she was a child.

 

Representative Krause’s pissy little list is pretty mild stuff by comparison.

 

Matt Krause is a nobody. Jeff Bezos has real power. When Amazon bans a book, that doesn’t just take it off Amazon — it sends a message to publishers around the world that failing to toe the party line means that their financial futures will be put in jeopardy by one of the world’s most powerful businesses. But when Amazon yanks a book by Ryan Anderson, nice liberals such as Andrew Solomon generally don’t have a goddamned word to say about it — and if they do say something, more often than not it is to encourage the suppression of books they dislike and the marginalization of nonconformist authors.

 

I’ll believe that our progressive friends are serious about freedom of expression when they start acting like they are serious about freedom of expression. My own experience is that they are much, much more interested in deploying economic and social power against expression with which they disagree — actually blacklisting books and their authors. If Andrew Solomon is interested in actually getting with the free-speech program, I welcome him to it.

 

Looking for Diversity in Texas?

 

Farhad Manjoo of the New York Times has written another perplexing column. (I have reason to write that sentence frequently.) He wants to know why so many people are moving to Texas, and so he teamed up with a graphics editor to do a little data analysis, the conclusion of which is that the only good places to live in America are the suburbs of Dallas. (More or less.) Manjoo ranks cities and suburbs according to four criteria, two of which are reasonably obvious and two of which are . . . not obvious. The obvious ones are economic health (as measured by unemployment and wages) and affordability of housing, and the non-obvious ones are racial diversity and climate risk.

 

You can see how that goes: The highest wages are found in places such as San Francisco, which still does pretty well on the diversity metric even as its African-American population vanishes. But it is super-expensive, and, like much of California, it is vulnerable to wildfires, rising sea levels, and other phenomena associated with climate change. Nebraska currently has the lowest unemployment rate of any state — at 1.9 percent, the lowest rate ever recorded — but it is whiter than Copenhagen at Christmas and it is a middling performer on income, 27th among the states. If you are really deeply worried about climate risk, you could move to any number of small towns in Minnesota, but nobody is doing that. In Texas, you have lots of racial diversity — sort of — and lots of jobs and a fair bit of cheap housing. Houston would be in the running with DFW on the Manjoo matrix if not for its coastal location and consequent hurricane problem.

 

A few thoughts.

 

I have spent a great deal of time talking to a great many people about the places they live and why they live there, and I have never once heard someone say that they moved to some particular place — much less the suburbs of Dallas! — in pursuit of racial diversity. Some people will say that they enjoy the diversity of where they live, but I have my doubts that many people move for that reason.

 

But beyond that, I am not so sure that we actually have a lot of “racial diversity” in Texas. What we have is a population in which about 80 percent of the people are either Hispanic or non-Hispanic whites, almost equally divided at about 40 percent for either group. As many observers have noted, almost all of Texas’s recent population growth — some 95 percent of it — has been driven by “people of color,” a meaningless non-category in which Nigerians and Bengalis are lumped in with Mexicans and Iraqis. In reality, there are not a lot of black or Asian people moving to Texas: In the past ten years, Texas has seen about 560,000 new black residents and just over 600,000 new Asian residents, both figured dwarfed by the 2 million new Hispanic residents. “Hispanic” is not a very helpful category, either, being a slop-pail into which very different peoples from very different cultures are poured willy-nilly owing only to some proximity to the Spanish language. For four out of five Hispanic Texans, what “Hispanic” means is “of Mexican origin.” (“Mexican origin” can get pretty complicated, too, but that’s beyond the scope of this column.)

 

What I am wondering is this: If Latino people are pouring into Texas, the state with the second-largest Latino population share (behind New Mexico but ahead of California), is that the pursuit of racial diversity? From a certain point of view, it looks more like the pursuit of homogeneity: largely Mexican and Mexican-American people moving into Mexican-American communities in a state with a large Mexican-American population, i.e., people moving into areas where there are lots of other people like them. Manjoo, who is so exquisitely modish as to insist upon the pronoun “they,” seems here to be guilty of — angels and ministers of grace defend us! — “centering” the white point of view. Because a guy relocating from Oaxaca is going to experience a hell of a lot more diversity in Nebraska than he is in Dallas, where he can head over to Los Oaxaqueños, order his sope huitlacoche, do so en español, and go on with his day — in a largely gringo-free fashion, if he chooses.

 

A Mexican American moving to Dallas has about as much to do with diversity as an Irish American moving to Boston or a Yahoo American moving to Florida.

 

Similarly, while I am sure that people sometimes move away from the scene of a trauma such as a home-destroying wildfire or flood, I have never — not once — met someone who told me he had chosen his new home based on “climate risk.” For comparison, about half of the people I talk to who move to Texas from some other state cite Texas’s lack of a state income tax as an attraction, while Californians — predictably and almost uniformly — are all too happy to show their visiting California friends around the 6,500-square-foot estates on ten acres that they bought, with money to spare, after selling their homes in the Bay Area.

 

But if you are interested in avoiding climate risk, stay the hell away from Dallas and environs: Texas as a whole already has demonstrated persuasively that it is utterly unable to deal with severe winter weather, with a power grid and a traffic system that collapse at the first dusting of snow. With a little ice on the freeways, Dallas saw a 133-car pileup that killed six people. Not long before that, one of the city’s nicest neighborhoods was ravaged by an EF-3 tornado. And in Dallas — a badly misgoverned Democratic city that is a lot like every other badly misgoverned Democratic city, right down to the crusty bums masturbating in public — a gentle rain will put half of the city’s traffic lights out of commission. Most of the climate-change forecasts suggest that this sort of thing is going to get worse — and my own political forecast for Texas does not envision the response getting much better.

 

Jobs? Yes. Cheap housing? Compared to Palo Alto, sure, though not as cheap as it was a few years ago. Low climate risk? Sure, if you don’t count tornados, heat waves, drought, blizzards, and flash floods. Diversity? Oodles of it, if by diversity you mean that the vast majority of the people you meet check one of two demographic boxes.

 

But if diversity and climate risk are at the top of your agenda, suburban Dallas isn’t for you. You should move to Austin. You won’t find a lot of diversity there or an unusual level of climate security, but you will be positively walled in by a homogeneous mass of likeminded people who profess to care about those things.

Against Conservative Pessimism

By Nate Hochman

Tuesday, November 30, 2021

 

The right-wing Internet vocabulary is rife with “pills.” The red pill, originally a reference to the famous choice that Neo faces in The Matrix: “You take the blue pill, the story ends. . . . You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” The “red pill” has become the conservative version of “woke,” denoting ideological affinity and an awareness of what’s really going on behind the curtain. The blue pill is its ignorant and blissfully unaware counterpart. This initial binary has expanded to accommodate a vast array of digital capsules, ranging from the white pill’s hope and confidence to the clear pill’s “absence of political conviction” altogether. There is even a quantum pill, which stands for a sort of in-between state, seeing the future in what Spencer Klavan describes as “both an optimistic and a pessimistic way at once — like a quantum computer hovering at 1 and 0 simultaneously, or like Schrödinger’s cat, both alive and dead until observed.”

 

The most dire of all “pills,” however, is the black pill, a term that originally arose in online “incel” forums to describe an attitude of complete and totalizing nihilism — both a despair about one’s situation and a firm conviction that the existing state of things will not, and cannot, improve. Amid a growing alarm about the state of the country and Western civilization more broadly, this pessimistic outlook has become increasingly common in some corners of the Right. Conservative black pills come in many forms, from Rod Dreher’s culture-war defeatism to Patrick Deneen’s thesis that the rot in modern American liberalism traces all the way back to the Founding — that the “atomistic philosophy” underpinning the American experiment, in other words, was doomed from the outset.

 

And they aren’t exclusive to the traditionalist wing of the Right. “I am really struggling to think of a time when I despaired more for the country and had so much contempt not just for both parties, but the bases of both parties,” The Dispatch’s Jonah Goldberg tweeted in August. Never Trump writer Tom Nichols chimed in to agree: “Man, I wish I didn’t feel what you’re feeling about the public. That’s the source of my despair.”

 

There is ample reason to feel anxious nowadays, as many Americans across the ideological spectrum do. In a poll taken in early November, two-thirds of respondents said the country was on the wrong track. Expressions of patriotic pride have continued to plummet to record lows. The American experiment in self-government is facing serious challenges. American cities — ravaged by political violence last summer — are experiencing a resurgent crime wave the likes of which have not been seen for decades. Drug- and depression-fueled “deaths of despair” afflict rural communities. Our porous southern border is overrun. Abroad, our military engagements seem incompetent at best, catastrophic at worst. And some of our leaders no longer seem to think that we even deserve to stand up for our interests. From our most prestigious universities on down to our public elementary schools, the American education system is beset by a radical and corrosive ideology that teaches our children to despise the country they are poised to inherit. Meanwhile, many of our elites, including most of those who currently set our nation’s course, are not merely apathetic but rather actively hostile to the nation’s history, political system, and citizenry.

 

So, yes, grave concern is not only warranted, but rational. But is despair justified? The answer, I submit, is no. The problem with despair is that it is the easy way out. It is often more comfortable than hope. The black pill liberates those who take it from the burden of national loyalty. If America is beyond saving — or more radically still, if America was never worth fighting for in the first place — then why bother being emotionally invested in its future? The rational thing to do would be to jump ship.

 

And that seems to be what some corners of the Right are preparing to do.

 

On the one hand, for all their talk of institutionalism, the most committed Never Trumpers are often remarkably happy to engage in their own fair share of institutional arson when it suits them. Abandoning our political institutions is not the same as abandoning America itself, but it is still an admission of defeat — a fatalism whose logical conclusion is the decimation of the political institutions that have defined American politics for centuries. The Bulwark, for example, has resolved to destroy the Republican Party root and branch: “Burn it all down,” declared editor-at-large Charlie Sykes in July 2020. “The GOP Needs to Hit Rock Bottom,” agreed the title of a piece by Mona Charen, published around the same time. And it’s no longer just about Trump, either: Even affable moderates such as Glenn Youngkin are beyond the pale for The Bulwark.

 

Anti-Trumpist conservatives like Goldberg are not as sour on red America as The Bulwark is. But they have embraced the same pessimistic posture toward many legacy conservative institutions, from the Republican Party to Fox News. Despite his regular exhortations of the need for stronger political parties, Goldberg recently proposed a third-party alternative to the GOP: Presenting “a simple, Reaganite conservative platform combined with a serious plank to defend the soundness of elections,” such a party could run “non-Trumpy candidate[s]” to “play the role of spoiler by garnering enough conservative votes in the general election to throw the election to the Democrat,” therefore causing “the GOP some pain for its descent into asininity.” (This idea was argued against by various writers at National Review, including Michael Brendan Dougherty, whom Goldberg invited onto his podcast for a friendly discussion.)

 

On the other end of the conservative spectrum are those who have decided that America no longer deserves their loyalty at all. Some voices in this faction even openly express a preference for our enemies. “I’m at peace with a Chinese-led 21st century,” Sohrab Ahmari mused in a since-deleted tweet back in May. “Late-liberal America is too dumb and decadent to last as a superpower. Chinese civilization, especially if it recovers more of its Confucian roots, will possess a great deal of natural virtue.” Right-wing Catholic writer Jonathan Culbreath chimed in: “It’s clear that a lot of conservatives are misled by a hyper-Americanist propaganda about contemporary China, which, for all its problems, actually has something like a real conservative and traditionalist commitment to its past.”

 

Can it be that America has fallen so far that it invites unfavorable comparison with a totalitarian country engaged in an active genocide against millions of its own people? No — of course not. One need not deny the profound, even unprecedented, challenges that the American nation is facing to understand that America is still a better country than China, by any and every standard imaginable.

 

The Kyle Rittenhouse trial was an instructive episode. All the institutional progressive powers-that-be mobilized to undermine Rittenhouse’s access to impartial justice, from Big Tech’s censoring expressions of support for the teen and shutting down fundraising efforts to the legacy media’s outrageously biased and misleading coverage of the case. National Democratic politicians, up to and including Joe Biden, smeared Rittenhouse as a white supremacist. But in spite of everything, the jury delivered a just verdict of not guilty. Those who doubt the integrity of the American system or who have lost all faith in our traditions should have their optimism rekindled by the outcome.

 

The American tradition is the ideal foundation for a project of national renewal. The black-pilled arguments to the contrary are the product of the very decadence and modern malaise that those who fantasize about a Chinese-style regime are most critical of. It is a skewed perspective born from too much time in insular Internet circles, and not enough time spent outside in the real world.

 

The digital realm competes directly with the flesh-and-blood one; as our time in the former increases, our loyalties to the latter wane. This is what leads to apathy about the future of the American nation itself — an odd turn for the Right, which is supposed to be fighting to defend it.

 

Something like this logic compelled former Trump-administration speechwriter Darren Beattie (who was fired after it emerged that he had spoken at a political conference at which white nationalists also appeared) to recently — and outrageously — tweet: “I am not America First. I am talent, beauty, excellence first. If America is no longer a hospitable place to cultivate those virtues, I will gladly root for whatever place decides to fill that void.”

 

But America is not just a momentarily hospitable place to cultivate certain virtues. It is our country. We are a people, with a way of life that is undergirded by fundamental and eternal principles — but those principles alone are not what make our country oursWe are not merely autonomous individuals, free to forget and begin anew, but bound together. The American birthright comes with both rights and responsibilities.

 

Just where else would our nihilistic friends suggest we go? The rest of the West is in much worse shape than we are. China has set about building the world’s first techno-totalitarian state. America, on the other hand, still has the First and Second Amendments as well as powerful red states that are increasingly well situated to erode the dominance of national progressive-controlled institutions. Absolutist narratives of decline suffer from the same problem as absolutist narratives of progress: Both assume that History has an inevitable and predetermined direction. But it doesn’t. Don’t let any black-pill-peddling digital junkies convince you otherwise.

Will Jussie Smollett Answer for His Actions?

By Jim Geraghty

Tuesday, November 30, 2021

 

The Jussie Smollett hate-crime hoax occurred nearly three years ago. From the first reports, the vast majority of Chicagoans figured out his story sounded fishy at best — among other oddities, the alleged MAGA-hat-wearing Trump supporters who recognized him from his TV show Empire chose to perpetuate their attacks at 2 a.m. on the city’s coldest night in many years (it was nine degrees below zero, without the wind chill).

 

Because the first prosecutor to examine the fraudulent claims chose to give him a sweetheart deal, Smollett is only seeing the inside of a courtroom now, and our Ryan Mills is in Chicago covering the story. And this is a bigger deal than it may seem, much more than a has-been or never-was actor filing a false police report.

 

From the beginning, the hoax was soaked through with politics, a deliberate, if spectacularly implausible, attempt to manufacture an event to advance a narrative as well as a not-so-successful actor’s career. Jussie Smollett wanted the world to believe that America — even the streets of Chicago at 2 a.m. on the coldest winter’s night — is full of hateful, racist, homophobic, Donald Trump-supporting thugs who will violently ambush and attack people just because of who they are, carrying nooses and menacingly chanting, “This is MAGA country!”

 

Now, I have no doubt that in a country of 329 million people, if you looked hard enough, you could find people who fit the description in Jussie Smollett’s imagination. We have hateful people in this country, as well as people who are racist and homophobic. But we do not have a commonplace problem of hateful, racist, homophobic, Donald Trump-supporting thugs, carrying nooses and menacingly chanting, “This is MAGA country!” as they rampage through the streets of our cities, looking for victims . . . or at least these thugs have the good sense to stay indoors in the middle of the night in winter in downtown Chicago.

 

Things are bad enough in this world, and we have enough real villains. We don’t need to make up imaginary new villains and try to fool people into believing that the world is worse than it actually is.

 

The existence of hate-crime hoaxes does not mean that every report of a hate crime is false, and the existence of actual hate crimes does not mean that every report of a hate crime is true. We live in a world that has genuinely hateful perpetrators, and we live in a world that has people who will make up stories and pose as victims in order to get attention. Our duty as responsible citizens is to sort out what actually happened and resist the urge to jump to conclusions.

 

It’s tempting! Our brains have evolved to quickly come to conclusions based upon incomplete information, to make inferences and generalizations. But American history is full of cautionary tales about the danger of jumping to conclusions. The danger of the public jumping to conclusions about crimes offers a lot of fodder for our popular culture — The Ox-Bow IncidentTwelve Angry MenThe Fugitive. (I guess the lesson is that if you’re going to be falsely accused, you had better have Henry Fonda around.)

 

The first reason the Smollett trial matters is because it showcases a false and dark vision of the world that certain influential people want to be true. Instead of asking, “Wait, does this description make sense?” quite a few powerful figures in politics effectively signed off on Smollett’s strange account from the first telling.

 

Back in 2019, Joe Biden tweeted, “What happened today to Jussie Smollett must never be tolerated in this country. We must stand up and demand that we no longer give this hate safe harbor; that homophobia and racism have no place on our streets or in our hearts. We are with you, Jussie.”

 

Kamala Harris tweeted, “Jussie Smollett is one of the kindest, most gentle human beings I know. I’m praying for his quick recovery. This was an attempted modern day lynching. No one should have to fear for their life because of their sexuality or color of their skin. We must confront this hate.”

 

God only knows if Biden or Harris even read or signed off on those tweets, or whether some 20-something woke campaign staffer wrote them on the candidates’ behalf, hoping to seize on a celebrity crime story in a busy news cycle. But the two candidates’ rapid, instinctive embrace of Smollett’s account revealed something troubling: that they see America as more hateful, more dangerous, and more tarnished than it really is. Harris backtracked a bit a month later, declaring that, “When anyone makes false claims to the police, it not only diverts resources from serious investigations but it makes it more difficult for other victims of crime to come forward.”

 

Their credulity suggests that Biden and Harris find it plausible that racist brutes could or would really rampage through the streets of downtown Chicago in the middle of the night, chanting “This is MAGA country.” The president and vice president may love America, but they also instinctively believe the worst things they hear about it.

 

The second reason the Smollett trial matters is because it features one of the most vivid and unjustifiable politicizations of the criminal-justice system in recent memory:

 

In a dramatic reversal in the case, Chicago prosecutors dropped all charges against Smollett on March 26, 2019. Revealing little about the reason why, the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office said the decision came after reviewing the case and after the actor agreed to forfeit his $10,000 bond. Parts of the case were sealed, one of Smollett’s attorneys said.

 

“After reviewing all of the facts and circumstances of the case, including Mr. Smollett’s volunteer service in the community and agreement to forfeit his bond to the City of Chicago, we believe this outcome is a just disposition and appropriate resolution to this case,” the state’s attorney’s office said in a statement.

 

But Mayor Rahm Emanuel blasted the prosecutor’s decision as a “whitewash of justice,” and Police Superintendent Eddie Johnson accused Smollett of hiding behind a deal “brokered . . . in secrecy.”

 

In that same month, the city of Chicago said it wanted Smollett to cover the costs of the investigation into his alleged attack — more than $130,000 — and gave him a week to do so, kicking off a legal battle after the actor refused to pay.

 

Jussie Smollett embarrassed his political allies, and once the implausibility of his story was exposed, his political allies wanted the whole matter to disappear — and Smollett’s political allies apparently extended into the office of Cook County state’s attorney Kim Foxx. A subsequent special prosecutor’s investigation found that for Smollett, established procedure was thrown out the window:

 

[The] investigation yielded no evidence that would support any criminal charges against Foxx or anyone working at her office.

 

It did, however, say that it had identified three “substantial abuses of discretion and failures” in the office’s prosecution and resolution of the case.

 

The statement noted, among other points, that the dropping of the charges against Smollett didn’t hinge on new evidence and “surprised” or “shocked” lawyers who worked in the state’s attorney’s office criminal division.

 

The OSP alleged that Foxx’s office “breached its obligations of honesty and transparency” by making false and/or misleading statements to the public regarding Foxx’s recusal from the case, the office’s subsequent dismissal of the case and the extent of Foxx’s communications with Smollett’s sister, Jurnee.

 

The special prosecutor said one false statement was that the relatively easy terms for dropping the charges — including community service and a monetary penalty — didn’t represent a new or unusual practice for the state’s attorney’s office.

 

The OSP also said its evidence relating to false and misleading public statements “may rise to the level of a violation of legal ethics by State’s Attorney Foxx and CCSAO lawyers.”

 

The office of the special prosecutor found sufficient evidence to file new charges against Smollett.

 

Our Ryan Mills notes that, “For such a high-profile case, the criminal stakes for Smollett are pretty low. The 39-year-old actor and musician faces six low-level disorderly conduct charges. If he’s found guilty, he could be sentenced to up to three years behind bars, but he could also receive probation and community service.”

 

But the outcome of this case matters for accountability. If you want people to respect our country’s institutions, our institutions must behave in a manner worthy of respect. Foxx’s choosing to drop the charges in a high-profile case, with little explanation or a false explanation, undermines faith in the rule of law and the equal application of the law.

 

ADDENDUM: Sorry, CNN, but in light of this . . .

 

CNN host Chris Cuomo used his connections in the media business to gather information about the female victims of his brother Andrew Cuomo, who was accused of sexual harassment while serving as governor of New York.

 

While the TV pundit has admitted to helping his brother navigate the allegations, documents published by the New York Attorney General’s Office Monday reveal that Chris Cuomo was much more actively engaged in the governor’s damage control efforts than he has previously admitted.

 

. . . I don’t think Brian Stelter, Chris Cillizza, or anybody else over there has any standing to give anybody else any grief about how they cover politics. As I wrote back in May, “Chris Cuomo just verified every accusation of every conservative critic CNN has ever had; the network became the reputational bodyguard of a notoriously corrupt and utterly shameless Democratic official.”