Belated Book Review: Why we’re Liberals, part 4
February 20th, 2009
Read parts one, two, and three
Part four: Purposeful Confusion
Eric Alterman has a bad habit of confusing the meanings of terms which are as plain as day to neutral observers. It’s a pattern that has sustained his entire career. In the past he’s bent over backwards to read the worst in Ann Coulter’s glib quips. It continues in Why We’re Liberals as he professes not to understand what conservatives mean by “liberal elitism.” Yet nowhere is his seemingly purposeful confusion more apparent than his denial of liberal judicial activism.
In a short chapter on the subject, Alterman follows what has emerged as a common rhetorical formula for him. He claims to misunderstand his opponent’s dialectal approach, denies that it can be understood, and then fills the void he created with a meaning that buttresses his argument. In the case of “judicial activism,” he purports not to understand what it means, and then claims it “has rarely if ever been defined.” Here Alterman is using an articulate version of the passive-aggressive “I don’t even know what you mean,” in response to slogans one doesn’t like. It’s safe to presume that Alterman’s misunderstanding is a rhetorical technique, because it isn’t followed up by even a token attempt to grasp the term as it’s used.
Reading fiction often requires a voluntary suspension of disbelief. One can’t enjoy a story about dragons, wizards, or totalitarian conservative governments without the ability to ignore the fact these things just don’t exist (which isn’t to say there aren’t corrupt conservative regimes). We need to use the same technique to follow Alterman’s logic on judicial activism. After the professor decides that judicial activism is a meaningless term, he defines it in a way that supports his general anti-conservatism, but unfortunately has no bearing on how the term is actually used. First he cites a study that defines judicial activism as a tendency to strike down legislation as unconstitutional—in other words, for judges doing their job. The study suggests that conservative judges are the most activistic.
The problem with a lot of serious political science research, partly out of the need to limit difficult variables, is that it tends to saddle complex political terms with simplistic definitions. Outside of political newbies, no one reduces political conservatism to a mere resistance to change as much as the engineers of political science studies. Hence the simplistic equation of activism with finding laws unconstitutional. Even if it wasn’t obvious in the first study Alterman uses, the first clue that something reeks about the whole thing is it’s dubious conclusion. Because of a sloppy definition of judicial activism, anyone taking the study at face value is led to believe that Clarence Thomas is more than twice as activistic as Stephen Breyer. The equivalent would be a carefully plotted, five-year long survey undertaken by graduate students which concluded that Rush Limbaugh was twice as liberal as Keith Olbermann. Should I be more inclined to buy into the “proof” that Rush is actually more liberal, or should I wonder if the grad students are using a definition of liberal no one else uses?
The second flawed study Alterman cites isn’t truly an alternative to the first. It just measures judicial activism by a tendency to strike down executive acts instead of legislation. Predictably, small-government conservatives find more executive acts unconstitutional than statist liberals do. In both cases, Alterman is conflating activity with activism.
Alterman’s clever chapter is disturbing because it doesn’t take much effort to understand what conservatives generally mean by “judicial activism.” Loosely, it means judges interpreting the Constitution in ways that correspond more with prevailing trends than with established principles. This doesn’t mean there isn’t any debate over the meaning of “original intent,” the importance of statutory laws in relation to constitutional law, or whatever keeping with the “spirit of the Constitution” entails. Conservative opponents of judicial activism are chiefly concerned with keeping judges from arbitrarily imposing their views on others. Even conservative novices know this—which means that Alterman, too smart and intellectually curious to simply overlook something central to his argument, has purposefully went out of his way to avoid understanding what he’s talking about. At least here, the author is demonstrably more ideological than intellectual.
Conclusion
So what general impressions does one come away with after reading Why We’re Liberals?”
Firstly, liberals are capable of self-criticism. It may come sandwiched in between layers of anti-conservative vitriol, but it’s there. Alterman is no shill for communism. His take on affirmative action is to approach it through class instead of race, which is at least one step up from the lowest rung of identity politics. Alterman is individualistic enough that I imagine that I could have a good faith dialogue with him; he doesn’t share President Obama’s habit of talking past conservatives, recycling academic talking points as if he’s still on the campaign trail.
Secondly, even the most educated liberals are dismissive and uncurious about conservative ideas. This happens because the left’s problem isn’t the absence of a moral code or education; it generally has plenty of both. No, what the left needs more than anything is humility. Liberals look down on those who aren’t liberal. Blanket claims that liberals are smarter, kinder, and more sacrificial than conservatives are not uncommon even among the most cultivated progressive minds. This arrogance has kept them from learning any lessons from the conservative movement.
This won’t change anytime soon. Until a dominant segment of America comes to understand that political alignment doesn’t dictate character, liberals and conservatives will jockey for moral superiority. In the meantime, conservatives should remind the left that being liberal doesn’t mean you’re smarter, more caring, more tolerant or less capable of pettiness and crime than anyone else. It just makes you liberal, that’s all. Until this sinks in, Americans will keep using liberalism as a status symbol, something to signify that they’re well-educated, thoughtful citizens (think PBS license plate frames).
This is one of the most important fronts in the culture war. Not until the veneer is stripped off of liberalism and all of its subsets will American politics even have a chance to become an intellectual endeavor, as opposed to a vehicle people use to feel good about themselves.
Finally, liberals are insecure about their beliefs. Alterman’s worst moments don’t come when he strays to the far left, but when he’s inappropriately lashing out against the right. When he carelessly tosses around accusations of bigotry, it betrays an insecurity which belies his aptitude and relative affluence. Liberals wouldn’t feel such a strong urge to lie or call their opponents hate mongers if they were truly convinced they had the intellectual high ground. Confident people argue with ideas; insecure people embellish anecdotes. This suggests that liberals can be persuaded if they would actually listen to conservative arguments. Thus, the most difficult left-wingers to talk to aren’t necessarily the furthest to the left, but the most defensive and uncommunicative.
So in the face of liberal intellectualism, don’t be intimidated. Eric Alterman is one of the most intelligent liberal authors I’ve read, and his philosophical soft spots aren’t much different than Sean Penn’s. If you find yourself debating a liberal egghead, don’t feel as if you need to be clever or conniving. Just make your case as if you were sharing ideas with anyone else. Obviously there will be a lot of disagreement, but you’ll be surprised at the things smart liberals concede. Open up to them, empathize with them, and if they get too full of themselves, give them a good rhetorical smacking.
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