By Jonah Goldberg
Friday, October 26, 2018
Last year I went through an IRS audit. I got through it
okay. But it was exactly as much fun as you’d expect. Then last week, I came
home from a grueling trek on the road to discover I was being audited again,
this time for two different years’ tax returns — one of them for the year I had
just been audited for! In case the IRS is reading this, let me say I am
overjoyed to once again work with the fine and upstanding patriots of the
Internal Revenue Service to ensure that I am paying my fair share.
It’s also a wonderful opportunity. At the risk of being
charged with over-sharing with you, my dear readers, I am also in need of a
colonoscopy. I am going to try to schedule it around the same time so that I
can test the accuracy of a commonly used metaphor regarding these fiscal
inspections.
Anyway, I bring this up because I keep getting asked,
usually half-jokingly, “Do you think it’s because you criticized Trump?” My
short answer: “No.”
Causation and
Correlation
It’s a very human reaction. Superstition and reason are
often pitted against one another as opposite forces, but they are both born
from an evolutionary adaptation that allows us to connect dots. In our natural
environment, our understanding of cause and effect often boiled down to the
fallacy of correlation equaling causation. Countless dietary and hygiene rules
were based on the fact that certain benefits accrued to those who followed
them. Kosherism is more than a guide to healthy eating — but one can see how
staying Kosher thousands of years before pasteurization, refrigeration, etc.
might correlate highly with better outcomes.
But one of the key points at which superstition and
reason part company is the fact that superstition is non-falsifiable. If the
king sacrifices an ox to Baal in the hope he will end the draught, and it
rains, Baal will get the credit for the rain. If it doesn’t rain, Baal doesn’t
get the blame. Instead, it must be that Baal wanted two oxen — or maybe a virgin maiden or the head of Alfredo Garcia,
whatever. If you keep offering sacrifices, it will eventually rain, and when it
does, “Praise Baal!”
The Seduction of
Conspiracy
Superstition takes many forms in modern societies — not
just carrying around rabbit feet and playing lucky numbers at the casino. Conspiracy
theories are a form of superstition. They work on the assumption that bad
things must be willed by human actors. What makes conspiracy theories so
compelling is that they are like a complex molecule in which Reason and
Superstition stick to each other in just such a way that they can get passed
the blood-brain barrier and, like a virus, wreak havoc in our minds. They make
us think that we are reasoning our way toward some deeper truth: All those Post-It notes and red strings
connecting 8×10 glossy photos can’t be wrong!
The central fallacy here is the idea that conspiracy
theories are reasoning toward
anything at all. It is in fact a form of pseudo-reasoning: thinking backward from the proposition that a bad
event must have been caused by dark forces, which (allegedly) benefit from it.
Like the drunk who only looks for his car keys where the light is good, the
truth-seeker only looks for evidence to support the proposition. The levees in
New Orleans did not hold, Spike Lee observed, so it must be because George W.
Bush had them bombed.
Of course, everything becomes so much more complicated by
the fact that sometimes there are
conspiracies. But they are rare, they are almost never vast, they usually
fail, and when they succeed it is most often more from luck than will. Whenever
you hear someone insist that “there are no coincidences,” they are revealing
that they live in a world of magical realism where powerful unseen forces are
treating us all like pawns. It’s a form of secular demonology.
The Unravelling of
the Conservative Mind
I’ll be honest: I am far more annoyed by conservatives
who traffic in conspiracy theories than liberals who do so. My reasons are
twofold. As a practical matter, it bothers me because they make conservatives
look bad, and I consider myself more invested in protecting my “side” from
making an ass of itself. More generally, it bothers me because conservatives
are supposed to understand, as a matter of philosophy, the limits of planning.
For instance, it’s one thing for liberals to claim
simultaneously that George W. Bush was an idiot and that this idiot nonetheless managed to orchestrate a massive
conspiracy to attack the United States on 9/11. It’s another for conservatives,
presumably trained in the laws of unintended consequences, the limits of
reason, and the fatal conceit of planning, to argue that the hijackers were
just a bunch of patsies for an operation that would have involved hundreds or
thousands of American agents — without a single whistleblower among them. This
can best be visually represented by someone turning Occam’s Razor into a heavy
spoon or soup ladle and beating Friedrich Hayek about the head and neck with
it. But that’s what happened to people such as Morgan Reynolds and Paul Craig
Roberts. Worse, these people have to believe their colleagues and ideological
comrades — whom they knew and for whom they often worked — were in fact
brilliant mass murderers.
In the latest example of the massive race to be wrong
first that spontaneously erupts after any mass shooting, terrorist attack, or
similar calamity, a host of conservatives and “conservatives” sprinted to
shout, “Cui Bono!?”
“Cui Bono” — literally “to whom is it a benefit” — is
like the starter’s pistol for conspiracy theorists to strap on their helmet
lamps and go spelunking into their own posteriors for an explanation that
affirms their superstitious view of the world.
A case in point: Lou Dobbs.
“Fake News — Fake Bombs,” he tweeted from deep behind his
own sphincter. “Who could possibly benefit by so much fakery?”
Ironically, I found the exact text of this tweet at
CNN.com because Lou has blocked me. (It’s pretty funny that I had to go to a
supposedly “fake news” source to find out what Dobbs actually said about fake
news.)
Dobbs was hardly alone, and I’m not just referring to
Candace Owens, Rush Limbaugh, and Donald Trump.
I’m referring to the millions of people who create a
market incentive for pundits and politicians to float this garbage.
I am rethinking my glee over Alex Jones’s social-media
defenestration, because it’s almost as if his banishment left a vacuum that
more mainstream figures feel the urge to fill.
And while I enjoy watching a man scream at excrement in
the middle of the street as much as the next guy — who can forget Isaiah Berlin
in ’46 laying into that mound of manure? — I still feel like there are slightly
better uses for Jones’s time. Besides, you’re not supposed to yell at your
food.
All of this stems from the tribalism of the moment, where
each side has concluded that persuasion is impossible and total victory is the
only option. They work on the assumption that anyone who is not “us” is “them.”
But the reality is that most Americans are neither, and any serious political
movement should be interested in attracting the people in the middle to our
side. Instead, by embracing our most unattractive façade, we make it that much
easier for the other side to say, “See, they’re all like that.”
Now, don’t get me wrong. I thought it was possible —
though very unlikely — that some lone left-wing kook took it upon himself to
send these bombs (or “bombs”) as a one-man “false-flag operation.” There are
enough racial hoaxes on college campuses alone to demonstrate that some people
are so desperate to make the world fit their paranoid vision that they will do
whatever it takes to midwife it into reality. But the idea that George Soros or
“The Democrats” or “The Fake News” plotted this out in some organized way is
just staggeringly insipid and paranoid. How would that work? Would Soros,
Maxine Waters, Robert De Niro, et al. meet like the Legion of Doom and plot to
commit a felony that could put them in jail for the rest of their lives?
The Trump
Contagion
Earlier this week, the president was nigh-upon insistent
that the Democrats must be behind the immigrant caravan heading our way, with
all of the speed of a steamroller in an Austin Powers movie. To be fair to
Trump, it’s possible this is just rank cynicism given that the caravan is — or
at least was — a political gift to Trump, not the Democrats. But the people who
believe it don’t have that excuse.
And that’s why I increasingly feel more like a spectator
to American politics than I ever have before. It’s really quite liberating, if
exhausting. Because I have zero personal loyalty to, or emotional investment,
in Donald Trump, I feel no need to defend him from legitimate criticism, never
mind bend my understanding of conservatism to his behavior and rhetoric. This
was a point I tried to make in my debate with Charles Kesler about the Trump
presidency. Because humans are wired to believe that their leaders are worthy
of being the leader, they bend their views to extol the character traits and priorities
of the leader. Today, definitions of good character are being bent to fit
Trump’s character, and the yardstick of what amounts to being presidential is
being shaved down to a nub to match Trump’s conduct.
(Similarly, because I have no investment in the Democrats
or the Mainstream Media, I feel no compulsion to rush to their defense either.
As far as I am concerned, they are all living down to my expectations. They’re
all making things worse, too. I’m certainly not going to do what Max Boot at times
seems to be doing: constructing a revisionist history of conservatism to fully
justify his abandonment of it. To be fair, Boot hasn’t gone Full Jen Rubin, but
he does seem to be struggling to find a foothold on his descent in that
direction.)
Newt Gingrich is a great example of how everything must
be bent to the president’s personal needs. The man who led the expansion of
NATO and the passage of NAFTA long ago cast aside these essential parts of his
legacy, like so much ballast, in order to stay afloat on the Trumpian tide. But
on Thursday, he reached a new low. When asked about a possible Supreme Court
fight to release Trump’s tax returns, Gingrich said, “We’ll see whether or not
the Kavanaugh fight was worth it.”
I’m sorry, the 40-plus-year fight to get
constitutionalists on the Court wasn’t about protecting Donald Trump from
embarrassment or criminal jeopardy. The reason why the Kavanaugh fight united
nearly the entire conservative and Republican coalition wasn’t about circling
the wagons around Trump. Indeed, the only reason the Right unified around
Kavanaugh was that it wasn’t about Trump.
If Trump had picked Jeanine Pirro, you would not have seen the Federalist
Society, The Weekly Standard, Commentary, National Review, et al. rush to support her. During the
confirmation fight, before the sexual-McCarthyism phase, conservatives —
including, most emphatically, Kavanaugh himself — insisted that the charge that
Kavanaugh would be a Trump crony on the bench was everything from wrong to an
outrageous slander. Newt himself described the stakes very differently. When
the fight was on, it was all about decency and patriotism.
Now that the fight is over, Newt is saying “never mind.”
None of it would be “worth it” if Kavanaugh doesn’t protect the president’s tax
returns — which candidate Trump said he
would release! It profits a man nothing to lose his soul for all the world,
but for Trump’s tax returns?
Tribalism is a helluva drug.
Transactional
Shmansactional
This is the fatal flaw with the “transactional” defense
of Trump. Very few people seem capable of sticking to it. The transactional
argument holds that one can be critical of the man while celebrating what he is
accomplishing (or what is being accomplished on his watch by Cocaine Mitch and
others). In private, most of the conservatives I talk to around the country
offer some version of this defense. And I find it utterly defensible, as far as
it goes. Indeed, my own position of praising the good and condemning the bad is
a version of the transactional defense, even if I was a critic of making the
transaction in the first place. But anyone who actually acts on this view in
public is instantly pilloried for his or her refusal to “pick a side.”
Indeed, the president’s job description is being
retroactively rewritten as Media Troll in Chief.
And, as always happen with tribal logic takes over, the
next phase of the argument is, “If you’re not with us, you’re against us” or,
“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”
I’m gonna take pass on all of it. I’ll strap on my helmet
and defend what’s worth defending, and criticize what’s worth criticizing, from
a conservative worldview. And if that pleases neither side, that’s alright with
me. Sometimes you have to stand athwart the asininity.
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