All or Nothing

Only a Sith speaks in absolutes.
---Obi-Wan Kenobi

One of the many problems we face today as a nation is the impossibility of taking a stand on anything without immediately being tagged with a particular political allegiance. The environment, abortion, illegal immigration,health care, gay rights, gun control – it scarcely matters. Say you are in favor of this or against that; that you believe in this or are skeptical of that; that you support this, or oppose that; and you will automatically be branded as belonging to either the “liberal” or the “conservative” camps. This applies just as strongly to political figures and TV pundits themselves. Criticize a Republican and you must be a Democrat; criticize a Democrat and you must be a Republican. Express dislike for Israel's foreign or domestic policies and you are an anti-Semite; attack those of Saudi Arabia and you are an Islamophobe. There is no wiggle room, no in-between, no gray area. Anyone, anywhere, regardless of age, race, ethnicity, sex, or creed can be reduced to a one-word identity and defined down to his or her smallest particulars simply by voicing an opinion on a single issue or person.

Setting aside the terrible mental inflexibility of such a reflex – and it really is a reflex, for it is an automatic response not subject to any conscious thought – the process of judging people in their entirety based on a lone viewpoint on a lone issue is symptomatic of a much deeper problem in our political life, which is the refusal to think. It seems to me that the vast majority of Americans have lost the ability to come to a position on anything without being told what to think beforehand by “trusted sources.” But which sources one trusts is mirrored by their own political prejudices: no one, or very few people at any rate, seems to believe in the concept of objective truth any longer, the idea that a fact is a fact no matter how you spin it, and is immune from disbelief. After all, we do live, physically, in an objective world: disbelieving in the rain will not keep you dry. Why should this simple rule of life fail to apply to the political world?

Two phrases which have spring up within the last year – “alternative facts” and “fake news” – both reflect the present relationship Americans have with reality. The first term is terrifyingly Orwellian because it presents facts as having no more validity than opinions. It is also eerily reminiscent of the Nazi idea that there was no such thing as science per se, only science specific to racial types. It is also similar to the Communistic idea that literature and even art were only valid if they had been produced by Communists or those sympathetic to them. In each case the validity of the concept at hand, science or art, was judged based on ideology alone. If this sort of thinking doesn't frighten you, consider the ramifications of a choose-your-own-reality scenario. Consider that all of human civilization, going back 6,000 years is essentially an acculumlation of knowledge, which is to say, a vast piling-up of theories and facts over time. Obviously some of that knowledge was lost or suppressed, but each successive generation since the end of the Dark Ages has added to the total body of knowledge in every field; together they form links in a chain, or steps in a staircase, or rungs on a ladder – however you want to visualize it. The present link, step or rung upon which our society rests exists only because of the innumerable others which precede it. And for every one of these which is sturdy enough to stand the test of time, there are dozens if not hundreds which were ultimately shattered by the crucible-like process of scientific examination. For example, the Roman Church used to maintain that the speed at which an object fell was determined by its weight. This belief persisted for hundreds of years, until Galielo dropped a marble and a lead ball off the Tower of Piza to demonstrate that both objects fell at the same speed. He was very nearly burned at the stake for doing this, but eventually the simplicity of the method he used became inarguable. Anyone could pick up two objects of different weight and see for himself that Galileo's claims were true when he or she let go of them. And today nobody – no sane person – would argue otherwise, because a fact has more weight than an opinion, or for that matter, a theory. A proveable fact is an objective thing. Like the afformentioned rain, it exists whether you believe in it or not.

“Fake news” has a more legitimate origin than alternative fact. Everyone has always known that the press often gets its facts mixed up – the novelist Lawrence Sanders once quipped that the worst insult an American could throw at another was, “You believe what you read in the papers?” As I have explained before in this blog, the accuracy of information bears an inverse proportion to the speed at which it is disseminated, and newspapers disseminated information with very great speed – until the last few decades it was common for the bigger papers to have both a morning and an evening edition, which requires a lot of fast writing. On top of this, the steady decline of journalism over the last 30-odd years, inspired by and coupled with the rise of the internet (a much faster way of getting information, and thereby a much faster way of getting the wrong information), as well as the increasing domination of corporations over the news media, has led to a profusion of stories which were deliberately exaggerated, twisted, under-reported, over-reported, or otherwise changed by the media outlets who reported them. The distrust people have of the news is, I'm afraid, somewhat justified. Nevertheless, actual fake news – meaning news which is simply lies, as opposed to stories which are not entirely accurate, or which have been slanted politically in some way – is only as influential as it is today because Americans have largely lost the power of critical thinking. They are not able, or or not willing, to discriminate between, say, The National Equirer and The New York Times in terms of veracity. What's more, as with “alternative facts,” they are no longer willing to accept that any news article could be accurate if it disagrees with their opinion. As before, the power of opinion – of belief – is elevated over the power of the objective fact, or at least the legitimate process by which objective facts are discovered.

Carl Sagan once said, in some exasperation, that people should stop asking whether he “believed” in UFO's or astrology or ghosts, and ask instead if there was scientific proof that lent itself to a conclusion on any of these things. He was trying to point out the absurdity of asking a scientist whether he or she “believed,” when the whole process of scientific thought was designed to make the idea of “belief” unnecessary. In science, first you theorize, and then, using the empirical method, you try to prove or you disprove. You then report your findings and submit them to other scientists for scrutiny, knowing they will test your hypothesis and repeat your methods to see if they can obtain the same results. It's not a question of "belief," it's a question of fact.

At the same time, and somewhat ironically, it has long been scientifically established that facts are no match for belief. Most people accept science only insomuch as it fails to contradict their opinions. No one today would argue anymore that man cannot fly, but many otherwise intelligent people argue, with no scientific basis and in spite of incontrovertible evidence to the contrary, that vaccines do more harm to society than good. Others maintain that the age of the earth is 3,000 years and not a day more, because this is what it says in the Bible or some other religious text. They reject radiocarbon dating and every other means which which the age of the Earth has been roughly established, yet accept immediately any scientific theory or law which does not conflict with their faith. They pick and choose what they believe, rather as if they were at a sort of buffet table, with no sense of hypocrisy or contradiction. In both cases, the mind has taken the easier course. It has abandoned the ability to come to its own conclusions and lets religious faith, or racial-ethnic bigotry, or political beliefs, short-circuit the thinking process.

When one looks at the political situation in America today, we can see that thinking is at a minimum, but the speed which people arrive at sweeping conclusions is at a maximum. If I express disgust for Donald Trump as a human being, I must be a Democrat or a “liberal.” If I express more or less equal disgust for Hilary Clinton, I must be a Republican or a “conservative.” If I take a single viewpoint contrary to the general trend of political thought in a party, then I am 100% in the camp of the opposing party. In no instance am I allowed am I allowed any deviation at all. The slightest disagreement, even on a minor issue, amounts to total apostasy, total rejection. It is noteworthy that both the Communists and, to a lesser extent, the Nazis, embraced this sort of absolutist thinking completely. Communists were permitted to repeat the exact party line; any disagreement, even on minor points, and one was branded a “right-wing deviationist” and shot. The Nazis, whose ideology was more nebulous, also shot a few of their deviationists, though generally they merely threatened or disgraced them – stints in concentration camps were quite effective for ironing out differences of dogma. At the moment, in America, neither of the major parties nor the government itself possesses the ability to shoot us for disagreeing with them, but I am by no means assured they would not do so if the power was theirs. The Founding Fathers understood better than any humans before – or, sadly, since – the temptation of libido dominandi, a concept identified by the dictionary as “the will to power; the desire to dominate; the lust for government.” They knew that a certain breed of man will always attempt to force its opinions and belief-systems onto others, with violence if necessary; and to organize them for his own selfish ends. The entire Constitution was written to restrain the power of government over the individual – in other words, to protect us from our own government. Unfortunately, it was beyond the power of the Founders to protect us from ourselves. They did not anticipate a generation of Americans who were unwilling to think, but perfectly willing to take action anyway.

In my Facebook feed, I am often confronted by videos in which an interviewer asks people of a certain political persuasion if they agree with certain statements made by a political figure of the same persuasion. A typical question would be, “Hilary Clinton says such and such about the national debt – do you think she's right?” Invariably the interviewee, in this case a Democrat, gushes with enthusiastic approval, and just as invariably, it is revealed at the end of the interview that the actual quotation came from Donald Trump, or George W. Bush, or some other right-wing figure. These sort of tricks are also played on Republicans with equal success, but the political loyalties of those questioned is not important. What is important is the fact that in each case, the response was conditioned not by what was said but by who they believed said it. It is noteworthy that these videos are always exhibited for the purposes of making the ordinary Democrat or Republican look stupid; but their effect on me is not amusement but horror. One of the slogans of the Nazi Party was, “The Führer is always right.” In America today, anyone on your side is always right, and everyone on anyone else's side is always wrong. The actual opinions they hold are irrelevant. Party loyalty has become tribal. But if this is true, it also begs a question: if Americans are so ignorant of their own political ideology as to be unable to recognize its exact opposite, why are they so fanatically loyal to it? If a person can't tell you why he's a Democrat, or a Republican (or a Democratic Socialist or a Green or a Libertarian), why do they cling so tightly to that identity?

It is my personal belief that political affiliations have become entirely emotional in origin. In the vast majority of cases, one does not coldly and soberly judge the various parties on their merits and then, on the basis of that analysis, make a rational decision to join one or the other. No, one comes to political identity in the same way one generally comes to religion or love; through subjective feelings which have nothing whatsoever to do with logic. Exactly why the emotions of one person are triggered by the slogans and symbols of the “right” and others by the slogans and symbols of the “left” remains a mystery, but the key point is that that the triggers exist. Humans began as aggressive, ritualistic, territorial animals with a strong hostility to strangers; as civilization emerged they maintained all these characteristics while transferring their tribal loyalties to the nation-state; and for whatever reason, they have now transferred that loyalty to the political parties which exist within those states. But loyalty, like love, is an feeling, and as I've stated above, subjective feelings – beliefs – are far more powerful than facts or logic. Only this can explain why people who can't even summarize their own party platform would simultaneously insist that it is superior to that of the opposing party, and then resist all arguments to the contrary, no matter how well-reasoned. Indeed, the very fact that it is possible to systematically demolish someone's arguments for being a Democrat or a Republican (or what have you), without in any way effecting their devotion to that body, is absolute proof of this.

If you doubt me here, I ask you to perform the following experiment: try, on the same day, to convince a friend that that computer X is a better bargain than computer Y; and also, that he should not love his abusive, irresponsible, alcoholic mother. In the first case, he is likely to respond positively to a purely intellectual argument, because there are no emotions – no loyalties – at stake. But when it comes to his mother, reason goes out the window, and only loyalty remains. Muster 1,000 perfectly valid reasons why he should not love his mom, and his subjective feelings toward her will not change one iota. What's more, he will probably hate you for trying to change them. In one case, truth has power, and in the other, it is utterly powerless.


It seems to me that primitive instincts served mankind well for much of his formative development. The ability to make snap judgements based on sudden emotional stimulus was key to survival on the ancient savanna – run or fight, kill or show mercy, listen or pick up the club. Hostility to strangers was a survival mechanism, as was territoriality and periodic aggression. Ritual helped create traditions which cemented bonds within the tribe, and submission to a strong leader eliminated argument and reduced discord, allowing a group of thirty to move as one. Back then, too much thinking could get you killed. But in this age, when the turn of two keys can release enough nuclear missiles into the air to turn the planet into a lifeless, radioactive cinder hanging in space, we can no longer afford knee-jerk responses to threatening stimuli. The balance we've established over this earth is too delicate, too fragile to sustain for much longer a population which has the power to kill but refuses to engage the power to think. The absolutism of our ancestors has no place in the nuclear era. It is not too much but too little thinking which will doom us.

George Orwell spent most of his literary career worrying about the decline of objective truth, the increasing unwillingness of human beings to think for themselves. He foresaw that this unwillingness would sooner or later lead to an actual inability; that the brain, like the muscles, must be exercised using critical thinking or else it will fall into the flabby and detestable habit of not thinking at all, but simply reacting, reflexively, to emotional stimulus. I'm sorry to see we have already arrived at this point, or at least to its outermost edge. Whether we draw back into sanity or proceed into the abyss which has consumed other great societies depends entirely on whether we continue to let ourselves be ruled by our passions, or governed by our thoughts.