By Fredrik deBoer
Saturday, May 03, 2014
Online liberalism, as I’ve said many times, is not
actually a series of political beliefs and alliances but instead a set of
social cues that are adopted to demonstrate one’s class background– economic
class, certainly, but more cultural class, the various linguistic and
consumptive signals that assure those around you that you’re the right kind of
person and which appear to be the only thing that America’s 20-something
progressives really care about anymore.
The dominance of personal branding and cultural
signalling over political theory means that liberal attitudes change very
rapidly and then congeal into a consensus that is supposedly so obviously
correct that it does not need defending. In the past year, liberalism as an
elite social phenomenon has abandoned first rights of the accused and second
the right to free expression. The Jameis Winston and Woody Allen sexual assault
cases saw the rise of resistance to any discussion whatsoever of due process
and rights of the accused, and in the way of their culture, online progressives
moved quickly to a place where anyone mentioning those rights at all were
immediately and angrily denounced, and accused of insufficient resistance to
(if not outright support for) rape and rape culture. Similarly, the Brandon
Eich situation, and now the Donald Sterling fiasco, have prompted this social
cohort to change liberalism such that its traditional staunch defense of free
speech rights has become instead an assumed disgust with those who talk about
free speech rights at all. On Twitter and Tumblr, the notion that people have
the right to hold controversial political opinions is not a cherished precept
of the left but tantamount to racism and homophobia. And, as I recently wrote,
abandoning these commitments also entails abandoning the traditional liberal
argument that rights are meaningless without ability.
So take, for example, this comprehensively awful piece by
Salon’s Elias Isquith. It’s a pretty perfect example of cultural and social
signals substituting for an actual political position. Isquith’s piece does not
contain an argument. I’m not saying it doesn’t contain a good argument; I’m
saying it does not contain an argument. It’s a mostly-failed attempt to achieve
an arch tone married to the blank, undefended assumption that people defending
rights on principle are themselves guilty of whatever people invoking those
rights are accused of. It’s no different than insisting that someone who thinks
an accused murderer should have rights is an apologist for murder. Not that
Isquith quite gins up the courage to make that explicit. I am tempted to say,
for example, that he accuses Julian Sanchez of racism, but of course he
doesn’t; he merely suggests, implies, and hints that Sanchez is a racist, or a
near-racist, or a defender of racism. You know. The mature way.
All of this will be good for Isquith’s career, of course.
Salon, though it still publishes some good work, has rapidly devolved into a
series of progressive dog whistles, a constant, numbing reassurance for its readership
that they are good and smart and conservatives are monstrous. And the
willingness to hint that people who disagree with you are existentially immoral
is certainly not going to hurt his online popularity any. The question is
whether contributing to this progressive impatience with the very idea of
rights talk is actually going to help the progressive cause.
What would actually be worthwhile– what would actually
work to advance our country politically–
would be for people to actually come out and say what they mean. If you don’t
think people accused of rape should have due process rights, you should say so.
If you are OK with a society in which only the idle rich have the right to free
expression, where people have absolutely no expectation of being able to hold
controversial views without risking their employment or their property, say so.
But all the hinting and signalling and cultural cues just leave us with no
coherent understanding of what rights we actually have left.
Which is troubling, given that undermining rights works
both ways. This is going to happen: sooner or later, some CEO or sports team
owner or similar is going to get ousted because he or she supports a woman’s
right to an abortion, or the cause of Palestinian statehood, or opposes the
death penalty. It’s inevitable. I can easily see someone suggesting that, say,
Israel is an apartheid state, and watching as the media whips itself into a
frenzy. And when that happens, the notion that there is no such thing as a
violation of free speech that isn’t the government literally sending men with
guns to arrest you will be just as powerful, and powerfully destructive, as it
is now. So what will these people say? I don’t have the slightest idea how they
will be able to defend the right of people to hold controversial, left-wing
political ideas when they have come up with a thousand arguments for why the
right to free expression doesn’t apply in any actual existing case. How will
Isquith write a piece defending a CEO’s right to oppose Israeli apartheid? A
sports owner’s right to do the same? I can’t see how he could– unless it really
is just all about teams, and not about principle at all.
Update: Lots of comments, lots of emails, lots of tweets
from people who are afraid to actually engage– not one single attempt to
explain how you would defend a CEO or sports team owner who was forced out for
insufficient loyalty to the state of Israel. Not a single attempt. Not a word.
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