In order to answer the question of why so many on the right played along with rules and norms which guaranteed they would lose, the first step is to ask why anyone would do so, and the answer to that is quite simple: as odd as it sounds, there are benefits to losing, and some people get so caught up with them that they prefer to lose. In order to discuss why, it's worth taking a look at another of the hot button social issues that dominated society during the Post-War Era: the treatment of the developmentally disabled and mentally ill. The treatment of these groups in the 1950 and 1960s left a lot to be desired, and has been critiqued quite extensively. The mistreatment of the inmates in hospitals was dramatized in the novel and film One Flew Over the Cuckoo Nest, and for any reader who wishes to defend them I'd encourage reading the novel. Those institutions were horrific at best, and quite often descended to conditions which can only be described as evil.
With this said, the debates in the 1960s and 1970s over the institutions were stereotyped in such a way as to guarantee the left would win, as most of the debates in our society have been since the end of the Second World War: the left would point out the horrific nature of the institutions, and the right would respond with noting that many of these people would be unable to care for themselves without help. The result of releasing them would be a massive increase in people self medicating using drugs and alcohol; a massive spike in homeless populations, and a sever strain on social services, which would need to cope with a large number of people who are not able to handle the basics needed to function.
Given that confining people in institutions which make prisons make humane without due process for indeterminate periods of time because they are unable to care for themselves is a terrible policy, one which is deeply immoral by any measure, by allowing the debate to be framed that way the right ensured defeat. Reforming the systems would have benefited an enormous number of lives, and I tend to find the defences of the system profoundly disturbing to read, but they served a necessary purpose.
Some of it of course relates to the fact that those who work within the Cathedral and enjoy the perks it provides have to play by its rules, but some of it comes from the fact that those on the right who raised their concerns got an enormous amount of validation in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the institutions which had until then confined the mentally ill were suddenly reformed and lost the ability to forcibly confine people. A large number of the people released were, in fact, unable to hold jobs because of severe mental illness; many of them turned to drugs as a way for self-medication; and social services across North America and Europe struggled as they suddenly had a huge influx of new people needing support, many of whom were unwilling to take it. Simply put, the right was proven to be right about the drawbacks of the policy.
I'm sure most of my readers know someone who takes immense pleasure out of being able to utter the words “I told you so” to someone else, to be vindicated by the results of something. This is one of the two main ways I see that the right benefited from losing: as long as the left can implement their policies, the right can continually point out that they correctly identified at least some of the outcomes would be negative. Notice however that the “I told you so!” factor requires losing: had the right been able to stop the release of the inmates of the mental hospitals, they would never have been vindicated.
This is a major issue, and one which means that the people drawn to the right by the ability to say “I told you so!” don't want to win: at a subconscious level, if the motivation is to be able to say that you knew from the beginning that something was a bad idea, it's much more satisfying to be able to do so when it's being implemented and having the exact outcomes predicted than if it's never tried at all and it all remains theoretical. What this means then, is that for those who were politically active and wanted to be able to say “I told you so!” becoming a right winger was a viable option, and it was all the more lucrative to the extent that the right could be guaranteed to lose. Given just how many people enjoy this particular past time, there was no shortage of people eager and willing to play their part.
There is at least one other major benefit to knowing you will lose that shaped the right, and this is the simple fact that if you win, then you must be prepared for the consequences, and in the 20th Century there was a very strong reminder of just how horrific this could be that most right wingers in the Western World could not avoid knowing something about: the Soviet Union, and Marxism.
Simply put, Karl Marx managed the remarkable feat of being right about the problems faced by 19th century society but being very, very wrong about the solutions. Karl Marx did not invent socialism: that honour goes to Charles Fourier in the early 1800s. Karl Marx' accomplishment can be summed up as taking Fourier's less giddy ideas, ditching things like the claim socialism would lead to the oceans turning into lemonade, and updating the critique of society for the mid to late 19th century.
Fourierism failed before Marxism was even invented, and indeed every attempt to implement socialism has failed, because it does not take human nature into account. Human beings are greedy, power hungry, and a large fraction of us behave poorly at the best of times. The reality is that any ideal world that people could create will fail for the simple reason that human beings are a strange mix, neither angel nor ape, but a mix of both. Marx, like many idealists, created a system which could only work with angels, and not human beings.
Attempts to implement Marxism thus slammed face first into the reality that they were unworkable in any world without lemonade oceans, and the illusion that it was being implemented could only be sustained by means of secret police, mass censorship, and gulags. For nearly everyone in the period from 1945, this was well known, and a large number of intellectuals likely had Marx in the back of their minds: “If my ideas are implemented, how high would the body count be?”
With the risk of becoming the next Karl Marx at the back of their mind, a good many intellectuals wigged out in various ways, for the simple reason that if a modest German intellectual forced into exile could end up with his ideas shaping governments around the world, then the possibilities that a single thinker could shape the world was immense. Given how destructive an influence Marxism was, a good many of the people who considered the possibility of becoming the next Karl Marx would have been justified in doing everything in their power to avoid it. The problem, however, is that anyone whose ideas are ever implemented runs the risk of their ideas being a colossal failure. Granted, it's usually on a smaller scale than Marx, but it's always the case: human beings can always be wrong.
There are two ways out of this trap: the first is to give up on thinking about anything with any kind of relevance. As the 20th century progressed, however, and government bureaucracies asserted ever increasing ability and authority to micromanage their citizens' and residents' lives, the option of finding something to write about with zero political relevance became ever more challenging; and meanwhile, if you have an intellectual disposition, it can be hard to avoid thinking about the problems faced by society. This is especially true of a society in crisis, which describes the entire era from 1914 to today.
The crisis was not a short term affair, like a war which lasts a few years and then is over, but rather a long drawn out malaise, one which lacked clear solutions and seemed quite intractable. In such an environment, with long drawn out problems and ongoing social, cultural, and political chaos and turmoil, trying to find a solution, any solution, becomes very appealing.
Here, however, things become worse, because not just did any intellectual who came up with a solution run the risk of becoming the next Karl Marx, but they also ran the risk of the ideas failing, and this drove a curious phenomena. There's an idea in psychology called provisional living: the idea is that people will park their fantasies of a better world in the notion things will get better after something else happens: filing for divorce, losing ten pounds, quitting smoking, or the like. As long as the thing in question does not and cannot happen, these fantasies can be completely detached from reality, but if the event in question becomes possible, then the fantasy meets reality and most of the time reality will not measure up.
A large fraction of the right then decided to engage in provisional living, pretending that if only their policies were implemented then society could be perfect. Initially, given that the earliest days of this occurred in a preexisting political framework, the right could insist that this was the case, as many of their ideas at the time were novel, and untested.
As time passed and the right became increasingly focused on the past, the realities of the fact that their preferred policies did not bring utopia when implemented began to cause cognitive dissonance. The response, by and large, has been to fixate on a particular moment, and portray it in the most positive ways possible, erasing the realities of history.
This decade is usually the 1950s, and the irony of the fact that most right wingers today would be so far to the left as to be radicals is not lost on me. There's a deeper irony here, however, one which is that the 1950s that the right likes to imagine is not at all the real one. The 1950s as imagined by the right makes no room for Jack Kerouac, or the Beatniks. The reality of the 1950s was that it was not the conformist, stable, quiet era that the current right likes to present, but just another decade.
The 1950s were not utopia. There are a good many things which make the decade preferable to the present; equally there are a good many ways in which the present is preferable to the 1950s. The reality of the matter however is that the true 1950s were quite a lot more dynamic and interesting than the story the right says about them. The Beatniks, for example, were proto-hippies, a class of figures which are all to often erased from discussion these days. What makes this all the more interesting is that they are being denigrated just as much by their intellectual heirs in the counter culture. We'll talk about that next week.
With this said, the debates in the 1960s and 1970s over the institutions were stereotyped in such a way as to guarantee the left would win, as most of the debates in our society have been since the end of the Second World War: the left would point out the horrific nature of the institutions, and the right would respond with noting that many of these people would be unable to care for themselves without help. The result of releasing them would be a massive increase in people self medicating using drugs and alcohol; a massive spike in homeless populations, and a sever strain on social services, which would need to cope with a large number of people who are not able to handle the basics needed to function.
Given that confining people in institutions which make prisons make humane without due process for indeterminate periods of time because they are unable to care for themselves is a terrible policy, one which is deeply immoral by any measure, by allowing the debate to be framed that way the right ensured defeat. Reforming the systems would have benefited an enormous number of lives, and I tend to find the defences of the system profoundly disturbing to read, but they served a necessary purpose.
Some of it of course relates to the fact that those who work within the Cathedral and enjoy the perks it provides have to play by its rules, but some of it comes from the fact that those on the right who raised their concerns got an enormous amount of validation in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the institutions which had until then confined the mentally ill were suddenly reformed and lost the ability to forcibly confine people. A large number of the people released were, in fact, unable to hold jobs because of severe mental illness; many of them turned to drugs as a way for self-medication; and social services across North America and Europe struggled as they suddenly had a huge influx of new people needing support, many of whom were unwilling to take it. Simply put, the right was proven to be right about the drawbacks of the policy.
I'm sure most of my readers know someone who takes immense pleasure out of being able to utter the words “I told you so” to someone else, to be vindicated by the results of something. This is one of the two main ways I see that the right benefited from losing: as long as the left can implement their policies, the right can continually point out that they correctly identified at least some of the outcomes would be negative. Notice however that the “I told you so!” factor requires losing: had the right been able to stop the release of the inmates of the mental hospitals, they would never have been vindicated.
This is a major issue, and one which means that the people drawn to the right by the ability to say “I told you so!” don't want to win: at a subconscious level, if the motivation is to be able to say that you knew from the beginning that something was a bad idea, it's much more satisfying to be able to do so when it's being implemented and having the exact outcomes predicted than if it's never tried at all and it all remains theoretical. What this means then, is that for those who were politically active and wanted to be able to say “I told you so!” becoming a right winger was a viable option, and it was all the more lucrative to the extent that the right could be guaranteed to lose. Given just how many people enjoy this particular past time, there was no shortage of people eager and willing to play their part.
There is at least one other major benefit to knowing you will lose that shaped the right, and this is the simple fact that if you win, then you must be prepared for the consequences, and in the 20th Century there was a very strong reminder of just how horrific this could be that most right wingers in the Western World could not avoid knowing something about: the Soviet Union, and Marxism.
Simply put, Karl Marx managed the remarkable feat of being right about the problems faced by 19th century society but being very, very wrong about the solutions. Karl Marx did not invent socialism: that honour goes to Charles Fourier in the early 1800s. Karl Marx' accomplishment can be summed up as taking Fourier's less giddy ideas, ditching things like the claim socialism would lead to the oceans turning into lemonade, and updating the critique of society for the mid to late 19th century.
Fourierism failed before Marxism was even invented, and indeed every attempt to implement socialism has failed, because it does not take human nature into account. Human beings are greedy, power hungry, and a large fraction of us behave poorly at the best of times. The reality is that any ideal world that people could create will fail for the simple reason that human beings are a strange mix, neither angel nor ape, but a mix of both. Marx, like many idealists, created a system which could only work with angels, and not human beings.
Attempts to implement Marxism thus slammed face first into the reality that they were unworkable in any world without lemonade oceans, and the illusion that it was being implemented could only be sustained by means of secret police, mass censorship, and gulags. For nearly everyone in the period from 1945, this was well known, and a large number of intellectuals likely had Marx in the back of their minds: “If my ideas are implemented, how high would the body count be?”
With the risk of becoming the next Karl Marx at the back of their mind, a good many intellectuals wigged out in various ways, for the simple reason that if a modest German intellectual forced into exile could end up with his ideas shaping governments around the world, then the possibilities that a single thinker could shape the world was immense. Given how destructive an influence Marxism was, a good many of the people who considered the possibility of becoming the next Karl Marx would have been justified in doing everything in their power to avoid it. The problem, however, is that anyone whose ideas are ever implemented runs the risk of their ideas being a colossal failure. Granted, it's usually on a smaller scale than Marx, but it's always the case: human beings can always be wrong.
There are two ways out of this trap: the first is to give up on thinking about anything with any kind of relevance. As the 20th century progressed, however, and government bureaucracies asserted ever increasing ability and authority to micromanage their citizens' and residents' lives, the option of finding something to write about with zero political relevance became ever more challenging; and meanwhile, if you have an intellectual disposition, it can be hard to avoid thinking about the problems faced by society. This is especially true of a society in crisis, which describes the entire era from 1914 to today.
The crisis was not a short term affair, like a war which lasts a few years and then is over, but rather a long drawn out malaise, one which lacked clear solutions and seemed quite intractable. In such an environment, with long drawn out problems and ongoing social, cultural, and political chaos and turmoil, trying to find a solution, any solution, becomes very appealing.
Here, however, things become worse, because not just did any intellectual who came up with a solution run the risk of becoming the next Karl Marx, but they also ran the risk of the ideas failing, and this drove a curious phenomena. There's an idea in psychology called provisional living: the idea is that people will park their fantasies of a better world in the notion things will get better after something else happens: filing for divorce, losing ten pounds, quitting smoking, or the like. As long as the thing in question does not and cannot happen, these fantasies can be completely detached from reality, but if the event in question becomes possible, then the fantasy meets reality and most of the time reality will not measure up.
A large fraction of the right then decided to engage in provisional living, pretending that if only their policies were implemented then society could be perfect. Initially, given that the earliest days of this occurred in a preexisting political framework, the right could insist that this was the case, as many of their ideas at the time were novel, and untested.
As time passed and the right became increasingly focused on the past, the realities of the fact that their preferred policies did not bring utopia when implemented began to cause cognitive dissonance. The response, by and large, has been to fixate on a particular moment, and portray it in the most positive ways possible, erasing the realities of history.
This decade is usually the 1950s, and the irony of the fact that most right wingers today would be so far to the left as to be radicals is not lost on me. There's a deeper irony here, however, one which is that the 1950s that the right likes to imagine is not at all the real one. The 1950s as imagined by the right makes no room for Jack Kerouac, or the Beatniks. The reality of the 1950s was that it was not the conformist, stable, quiet era that the current right likes to present, but just another decade.
The 1950s were not utopia. There are a good many things which make the decade preferable to the present; equally there are a good many ways in which the present is preferable to the 1950s. The reality of the matter however is that the true 1950s were quite a lot more dynamic and interesting than the story the right says about them. The Beatniks, for example, were proto-hippies, a class of figures which are all to often erased from discussion these days. What makes this all the more interesting is that they are being denigrated just as much by their intellectual heirs in the counter culture. We'll talk about that next week.