Saturday, December 12, 2020

Will the United States Disintegrate?

By Terry Teachout

Thursday, December 03, 2020

 

I saw it coming — 20 years ago. Within days of the 2000 presidential election, I wrote an essay for Commentary called “Republican Nation, Democratic Nation?” in which I argued that the election showed that America was splitting into “two geographically and culturally distinct units.” I went on to explain:

 

On one side of the fence is an urban- and suburban-based congeries of government employees, union members, blacks, and those highly educated, comparatively affluent “knowledge workers” known to political scientists as the New Class. On the other is the contemporary equivalent of what H. L. Mencken dubbed the Bible belt, . . . in which rural and small-town America have joined forces with the fast-growing group of Americans who live in “exurbia,” the new middle-class communities that are springing up beyond the rim of the older suburbs.

 

What is now conventional wisdom, however, was nothing of the sort when my essay came out early in 2001. Nu­merous commentators, among them David Brooks and Andrew Sullivan, dismissed my claim as alarmism. In Brooks’s words: “There is no fundamental conflict. There may be cracks, but there is no chasm.” Except for Michael Barone, who spotted the cultural split first and wrote about it prior to the election, the only prominent person to think otherwise was Gertrude Himmelfarb, the great cultural and intellectual historian, who wrote in Commentary, “I entirely (well, almost entirely) agree with Terry Teachout.” While she was reluctant to go so far as to declare that America had split into two nations, preferring instead to say that we were “one nation, two cultures,” the title of her 2000 book on the subject, Himmelfarb was in no doubt that the country was undergoing a profound and fateful cultural transformation, and differed with me only in what to call it.

 

Four years later, my critics had all changed their minds. Part of what opened their eyes was the publication of The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart, in which Bill Bishop and Robert G. Cushing used “in-migration” data and other survey evidence to show that Americans were consciously clustering in “communities of sameness . . . whose inhabitants find other Americans to be culturally incomprehensible”:

 

We discovered that people who left counties with large numbers of Evan­gelicals rarely moved to counties dominated by Democrats. People who left counties with a high proportion of Evangelicals largely moved to counties of like faith. Similarly, we found that when people moved from Republican counties, they were very likely to settle in other Republican counties.

 

Their existing political and cultural attitudes were reinforced because they were now surrounded by people who thought as they thought — and who, in the case of Red America, were for the most part working-class whites, many of them Christian evangelicals, without a college education. The only thing missing was a political leader capable of speaking to and for the newly self-aware identitarians of Red America. Existing Republican leaders did not know how to do this, nor did anyone involved with what used to be called the “conservative movement.”* This left the door open for an outsider who understood that, in the words of Chris Arnade, one of the most insightful journalistic observers of Red Ameri­ca, working-class Americans “believe in faith, family, the flag, and the American dream, and are not embarrassed about that.” Donald Trump was that man.

 

I did not foresee that Trump would win the Republican nomination in 2016 — nobody did — but no sooner did he become the nominee than I realized, and said publicly, that he had a realistic chance of becoming the next president. His most fervent supporters, as I wrote in Commentary in the spring of 2016, were

 

anxious middle- and working-class white men who sense that official em­ployment statistics understate the problem of long-term unemployment in the U.S., fear that their own jobs may be at risk, and have come to the conclusion that unrestricted immigration is . . . a direct and mortal threat to themselves and their families.

 

Trump saw at once that these voters felt powerless and disrespected, both by the leaders of Blue America and by the other Republican candidates, and so he ran as a Jacksonian populist (to use Walter Russell Mead’s formulation) who spoke the coded language of white anxiety clearly and fluently — a language to which, as the 2020 exit polls show, a growing number of working-class Latinos and black men are also responding. Not surprisingly, Blue America responded with sniggeringly dismissive not-our-kind-dearie New Class disdain, but Trump’s followers saw him as their champion, and so they put him in the White House.

 

Four years later, the cultural chasm separating the two Americas has grown wider still. The condition that increasingly obtains in American society is that those who disagree no longer have anything to say to one another: Fact-based argument has been replaced by the knee-jerk contempt of identity politics. This is why I have come to believe that I will live to see Red and Blue America negotiate what I call a “soft disunion.” No, there won’t be a second Civil War, but we have also come a long way from the stirring words of Abraham Lincoln’s first inaugural address: “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.” Indeed, the gap that separates the two Americas has grown so deep and wide that I find it hard to imagine their caring to function as a single nation for very much longer. If this is so, then I expect they will ultimately find a more or less polite way to stop doing so, one enabled by the slow workings of the Big Sort.

 

The chief obstacle that stands in the way of the soft disunion of America is that Red and Blue America are not geographically disjunct, as were the North and South in the Civil War. Even in the biggest and reddest of states, there are deep-blue enclaves that have no wish to be absorbed into the whole. Perhaps they will be the West Berlins of the 21st century, tiny islands of dissent in vast seas of concord. But if the desire to separate is strong enough, then the problem will surely be solved in one way or another. Lincoln said it: “If destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen we must live through all time or die by suicide.” And so we may, sundered by inattention.

 

And then . . . what? Given the present state of American politics, I fear that few will lament the disintegration of the United States of America as it has hitherto been understood. Indeed, many will see it as blessed deliverance from the horrors of unpeaceful cultural coexistence. But for those of us who love America, messy and confused as it is, soft disunion will be a terrible thing, no less terrible for having been effected politely.

 

* The word “conservatism,” which used to refer to what in my youth was also known as “National Review conservatism,” has since been commandeered by Trump and his supporters and no longer means what it used to mean. We need a new word to describe ourselves.

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