By Josh Barro
Monday, July 17, 2017
I've been haunted by a claim my KCRW colleague Rich Lowry
made on our radio show a few weeks ago: Democrats keep coming up short in
elections because they won't give any ground on "cultural issues" to
win back the working-class voters they've alienated over the past decades.
On one hand, it's obviously true that Democrats suffer
from a cultural disconnect from non-college-educated voters who have abandoned
the party in droves. Democrats believe their economic agenda should appeal to
people with lower incomes, yet income has become a poor predictor of partisan
alignment; Democrats' substantial inroads with upscale suburban voters have
been more than offset by the loss of voters down the income spectrum, most of
whom did not finish college.
Most of the discussion of this trend has focused on
non-college-educated white voters, who have swung heavily toward Republicans;
but Democrats should also be worried about their disconnect with
non-college-educated nonwhite voters, whose turnout declined precipitously in
2016.
On the other hand, when you look at the polling on
specific "cultural issues," Democrats usually have the edge.
This combination of facts has me thinking a lot about
what I call "the hamburger problem." As I see it, Democrats' problem
isn't that they're on the wrong side of policy issues. It's that they're too
ready to bother too many ordinary people about too many of their personal
choices, all the way down to the hamburgers they eat.
They don't always want to prohibit those choices. But
they have become smug and condescending toward anyone who does not match the
personal lifestyle choices of liberal elites. Why would the voters on the
receiving end of that smug condescension trust such a movement to operate the
government in their best interest?
The nice thing about the hamburger problem is that
Democrats can fix it without moving substantially on policy. They just have to
become less annoying.
Americans are
socially liberal ...
Most Americans favor legalizing marijuana and oppose
requiring transgender people to use bathrooms that match their sex at birth.
They have come to favor same-sex marriage by 30 points. Nondiscrimination laws
to protect gay people are even more popular than gay marriage. And universal
background checks to buy guns are even more popular than that.
Immigration is hard to poll — I don't think poll
questions tend to adequately capture the trade-offs involved in the issue — but
Americans disapprove of President Donald Trump's handling of the issue by a
very wide margin, suggesting that "nastier to Mexicans" was not the
ethos they most wanted in a president.
The one major exception to the Democratic edge on
cultural policy is abortion, a closely divided issue on which public opinion
has barely shifted since Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973.
But the median voter's position on abortion boils down to
"It should be legal, but only early in pregnancy and only if you have a
good reason." If Democrats have a problem with their broad-access position
on abortion being too extreme for the median voter, then so do Republicans who
want to prohibit it.
... but they do
not like being told to feel guilty about personal choices
That Democrats are on solid political ground with the
biggest planks of their culture-related policy
agenda does not mean Lowry is wrong about the culture gap. What it does mean, I
think, is that "cultural politics" is barely about public policy at
all.
And liberals have staked out a wide variety of
fundamentally non-policy positions on the culture that annoy the crap out of
people, to their electoral detriment.
Let's discuss the hamburger example.
Suppose you're a middle-income man with a full-time job,
a wife who also works outside the home, and some children. Suppose it's a
Sunday in the early fall, and your plan for today is to relax, have a burger,
and watch a football game.
Conservatives will say, "Go ahead, that sounds like
a nice Sunday." (In the Trump era, they're not going to bother you about
not going to church.) But you may find that liberals have a few points of concern they want to raise
about what you mistakenly thought was your fundamentally nonpolitical plan for
the day.
Liberals want you to know that you should eat less meat
so as to contribute less to global warming. They're concerned that your diet is
too high in sodium and saturated fat. They're upset that the beef in your
hamburger was factory-farmed.
They think the name of your favorite football team is
racist. Or even if you hate the Washington Redskins, they have a long
list of other reasons that football is problematic.
The hamburger
problem is about more than just hamburgers and football
Beyond what you're doing this weekend, this movement has
a long list of moral judgments about your ongoing personal behavior.
The SUV you bought because it was easier to install car
seats in doesn't get good enough gas mileage. Why don't you have an electric
car?
The gender-reveal party you held for your most recent
child inaccurately conflated gender with biological sex. ("Cutting into a
pink or blue cake seems innocent enough — but honestly, it's not," Marie
Claire warned earlier this month.)
You don't ride the subway because you have that
gas-guzzling car, but if you did, the
way you would sit on it would be sexist.
No item in your life is too big or too small for this
variety of liberal busybodying. On the one hand, the viral video you found
amusing was actually a manifestation of the
patriarchy. On the other hand, you actually have an irresponsibly large
number of carbon-emitting children.
All this scolding — this messaging that you should feel
guilty about aspects of your life that you didn't think were anyone else's
business — leads to a weird outcome when you go to vote in November.
Democrats believe they have an economic agenda that would
help you — for example, by relieving your substantial childcare costs. You're
not particularly religious, and you're not thrilled about Republican complaints
about gay marriage and marijuana. You don't make enough money to benefit much
from Republican tax-cut proposals.
But are you going to entrust the power of government to
the side of the debate that's been so annoyingly judgmental about your life
choices? Do you trust those people to have your best interests at heart?
Liberals have
supplanted conservatives as moralizing busybodies
In the past few years, conservatives have made a
strategic retreat from telling people what to do in their personal lives.
Except on abortion, where public opinion remains about evenly divided,
conservatives have implicitly admitted that they have lost certain parts of the
cultural war.
They have accordingly shifted from trying to impose their
moral vision on the whole society to trying to carve out a space to live under
that vision within a private sphere.
You can see this even in the nomination of Trump. Trump
is full of gross judgments of people based on who they are, but he's less
inclined than past Republican candidates to judge people based on what they do — in part because Trump
wants to preserve social space for his own gross behavior.
But liberals, realizing they have won major aspects of the culture war, have begun to overreach,
deeming nearly every aspect of life to be subject to public judgment.
They don't necessarily intend to impose policies to
change your behavior, but they definitely intend to use cultural power to shame
you for your nonconforming choices.
If everything is
political, then culture will necessarily dominate politics
Liberals like to complain that working-class voters who
back Republicans have voted "against their own self-interest," by
which they implicitly mean economic self-interest. This idea could benefit from
a little introspection.
Do liberals go into the voting booth and choose a
candidate based on a narrow conception of economic self-interest? Of course
not. I live in Manhattan; I know lots of people who are horrified at the prospect of a Republican healthcare bill that cuts
benefits they are unlikely to use personally and that until the most recent
revisions would have given many of them a substantial tax cut.
Their aversion to Trump arises because, for them,
government is about more than "What's in it for me?" But more
important than explicit public policy, they are horrified about what Trump's
rule means for the culture.
He is trampling on anti-racist and anti-sexist ideas that
they value. He rejects norms of intellectualism and politeness that used to
govern both conservative and liberal elites. He is vulgar and embarrassing. He
withdrew the US from the Paris climate accord, which had few direct policy
effects but was extremely important as a vehicle for moral signaling about
climate change.
Cultural power is
more motivating than public policy
Objectively, you would think the groups most
substantively exposed to risk from the Trump presidency are low-income people
who face benefit cuts and members of minority groups against whom he whips up
and indulges negative sentiment.
Yet, as the Republican pollster Patrick Ruffini has
pointed out in his analyses of turnout in House special elections, the
"resistance" surge in Democratic turnout relative to Republican
turnout is occurring almost entirely among college-educated whites. That is,
the people most alarmed by Trump seem to be the ones who stand to lose the most
cultural power, not those who stand to lose the most materially.
Why wouldn't this be true on the other side, too? If you
wouldn't hand power to your cultural opponents in exchange for a
health-insurance subsidy, why would you expect others to do so? You should
consider that some voters feel that having to listen to moralizing speeches
about their diet is against their self-interest.
An air of
self-dealing makes liberal moralizing worse
Liberals don't moralize about everything they think is a
problem. You'll hear a lot more discussion of how people should fight climate
change by eating less meat and living in dense, walkable communities than
discussion of how they should fight it by flying less.
This is probably because people like to propose moral
solutions that are in line with their preexisting lifestyle preferences.
Liberal moralizing tends to read as college-educated
people in cities arguing that everyone should behave more like them. Usually,
that's the substance of the moralizing, too.
This can be fixed
The good news about the liberal cultural disconnect not
really being about public policy is that Democrats don't have to change any
important cultural policy positions to fix the disconnect.
I have a few ideas about how Democratic politicians could
signal to voters across the cultural spectrum a message along these lines:
"I get you. I don't have a problem with the way you live your life. I have
some ideas about how government can work better for you, and I'll otherwise get
out of your way."
1. Don't tell people they should feel guilty. As I discussed at the
top of this piece, Americans are broadly open to liberal positions on cultural
policy issues. Over the last few decades, they have increasingly internalized
the idea that the government should let people be free to do what they want in
their lives. So embrace that ethos by emphasizing how liberal policy positions
would let members of all sorts of groups live their best lives, protected from
discrimination and harm. Don't tell people they should feel bad about living
their own lives as they want.
2. Say when you think the liberal commentariat has gone overboard.
While former President Barack Obama has urged people to eat less meat, usually
the leading voices of the new liberal moralism are not politicians. Less-smug
liberal commentators will usually protest that these voices are marginal,
especially the college students who get so much attention on Fox News for
protesting culturally insensitive sushi in the dining hall. If these voices are
so marginal, it should be easy enough for Democratic politicians to distance
themselves by saying, for example, that some college students have gotten a
little nuts and should focus on their studies instead of the latest politically
correct cause. Showing that you also think liberal cultural politics has gotten
a little exhausting is a good way to relate to a lot of voters.
3. Offer an agenda that provides benefits people can see as mattering in
their daily lives. If you want voters to refocus away from petty cultural
fights and toward public policy, it's not enough to turn down the temperature
on culture; you need a policy agenda they can relate to. I wrote in December
about some
ideas to do this — though of course, you could also make such an agenda in
farther-left flavors.
4. Don't get distracted by shiny objects. If the government can't do
anything about the problem you're discussing — if it's purely a matter of the
cultural discourse — should you spend your time on it and risk alienating
people on the opposite side of the issue? Probably not.
Turning down the temperature
on culture is not admitting defeat
I should mention the important role that white racial
resentment played in Trump's rise — though as a practical political matter,
when Democratic politicians talk about it, they should be careful not to sound
like they're telling white voters they should feel guilty about their choices.
That worked poorly for Hillary Clinton.
Certainly, there were ugly preferences among many voters,
nearly all of them white, that animated Trump's rise. Trump's vilification of
Mexicans and Muslims, his portrayal of black neighborhoods as hellish, his
sexist attitude toward women — these appealed to an uncomfortably large number
of white people. For a substantial number of voters, a vote for Trump was a
vote to restore white cultural power.
Some liberals have looked at this and thrown their hands
up: Clinton was right about Trump's voters being deplorable, and there's no way
to meet them halfway on "culture" because that will ultimately mean
indulging bigotry.
I think it makes more sense to think of Trump's voters as
being like any heterodox coalition, which you seek to defeat by splitting it.
Offer what you can to win some of them over without conceding on what you hold
dearest.
When Trump complains about "political correctness,"
he means the norms that stop people from expressing overt bigotries and
sexually harassing women. But when voters complain about it, they mean an
immense variety of things.
It's possible to stake out the ground that, for example,
characterizing Mexican immigrants as a mass of criminals and rapists is wrong,
but what you wear at Halloween isn't really a concern so long as you're not in
blackface. It's possible to push for the policies you think are important on
climate change without making people feel guilty about their hamburgers.
Liberals
overreached, but Trump is overreaching, too
When I say voters are sick of being told to feel guilty,
I don't mean that I think they want no standards of social behavior at all — or
that they should be entitled to that.
Social norms against overt expressions of racism have
been an important driver of improved social relations in the past 60 years.
Sometimes it's a fine political and moral strategy to make people feel guilty —
if what they're doing is bad enough, and if there's a strong enough consensus
that it is bad.
The problem with the liberal busybodying is not that it
passes any judgments on individual behavior, but that the judgments have become
too numerous, too specific, and too frequently changing. Following all the
rules has become exhausting.
But the people most bothered by the rules are the ones
who wish to violate them the most flagrantly — the Ann Coulters and Richard
Spencers of the world. These people love Trump because he would vitiate all the
standards of behavior. This is also why Trump horrifies the small number of
intellectually consistent social conservatives, such as Russell Moore.
Liberals don't have to outbid Trump on license to win
back the voters they alienated with their cultural impositions. They just have
to become somewhat less annoying. I think this is feasible.
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