Category: Politics

In my post on “political correctness” someone said, in effect, “Well, that was interesting, now get back to work.” I know that some writers would be annoyed by that, however well-intentioned. I know that some would be flattered. I had both reactions. But, in fact, it is, quite simply, a reasonable point and one worth addressing. After all, what I am, first, last, and always, is a writer, a story-teller; I am not a politician. Although we all, from time to time, may be called upon to take a stand on some social issue lest we prove ourselves morally bankrupt, politics is a calling, like the priesthood, or teaching, or writing–and it’s one I don’t have. So why don’t I shut up about politics and get back to work?

Last night Jen and I attended a speech by David North on the fifteen year anniversary of the World Socialist Web Site. It was deeply engaging, and triggered some thinking.

As a materialist, I have held all along that being determines consciousness. This is not a mere abstraction, rather, it helps explain a great deal in contemporary ideology. For example, those involved in identity politics are, or at least speak for, a highly privileged section of the upper middle class who care exactly nothing for the conditions of the impoverished millions, but want to see their own position elevated to that of those with even more privilege. Obama appeals to these same sections, who give him support (albeit sometimes critical support) to carry out measures of repression, including assassination, that would have created a huge outcry had Bush attempted them. And so on.

But this law–being determines consciousness–applies to me as well. Very much it applies to me. I am not immune to the social forces around me. Quite the contrary. In my testimonial to the World Socialist Web Site I said the following: “No matter how much one tells stories of magical beasts or impossible worlds, in the end, it is always the world of here and now one is writing about. The better one understands that world, the more powerful the stories will be.” I truly believe this. I more than believe it, I feel it. And so, when events in the world leave me confused and disoriented, it becomes more difficult for me to tell a story about an ex-assassin on the run and his flying lizard familiar. That is a plain, unvarnished fact, and I must ask you to accept it.

But look at what has been happening in the world. An American president has, with the agreement and cooperation of the media–even the supposedly liberal sections of the media–all but thrown out the Bill of Rights. Habeas corpus is rapidly becoming a thing of the past. The New York Times justifies depriving human beings–even American citizens–of life without so much as a nod at due process. Look up the Articles of Impeachment drawn up against Richard Nixon after Watergate, and compare them to the crimes that Obama has admitted to. We live in strange and difficult times, my friends. In my own field–in the science fiction community–there was the (to me) tremendously disorienting Scott Card affair (if I sounded sure of myself in the discussions of that matter, please believe I was not–I was struggling to find my way).

I attempt in my work to depict people as they are, in at least some, if not all, of the complexities of human and social relations; to understand how the society we live in is reflected in the individual choices we make. While I try very, very hard to keep direct politics out of my work (I figure my readers hate being preached to as much as I do), my world-view is central to it, and I make no apologies for that.

However, the process is dialectical. It isn’t as simple as, “Okay, now I’m going to understand things. Good. That’s done. Now I can tell a story.” It doesn’t work that way for me (nor, in my opinion, for anyone). It is much more complex: the work on the story feeds questions and answers into my attempts to understand the world I live in, and my understanding of that world feeds questions and answers into the story. This blog is one of the tools I use to work through my understanding of the complex and contradictory events in life; which then permits me to enter, fully engaged, into telling the story.

In brief, I have been writing more on political and social issues, because political and social issues are becoming more difficult, complex, and explosive. Because I live in the real world where those things affect my ideas and understanding. Because working through that understanding is a necessary part of my story telling.

I hope that clarifies matters, Chuck. Now I’m going to get back to work on Hawk.

Oddly enough, my first encounter with the term was in the mid-80s from a supporter of the concept making fun of it. That is, she used a questionable term, then said ironically, “Oops. I guess I wasn’t being ‘politically correct’ there.” Yes, she used the air quotes.*

Anyway, she then had to explain the term. I don’t remember the explanation, but I remember it resulted in a long argument.

So, when we hear the term “politically correct” we are talking, as I understand it, about two things:

1. The crazy notion that you ought not to use demeaning and disrespectful terms to describe people.

2. The equally crazy notion that our language influences our thinking.

Now, up to that point, it seems perfectly reasonable. So reasonable, in fact, that one has to wonder why the concept is described with what is usually considered a term of derision.

One reason is simple: The primary identifier with what we call political correctness is taking a noun or an adjective and adding “ism” to it.  In my opinion, you very quickly reach the point of silliness.  I mean, “ageism?”  Seriously?  That’s what you’re going with?  In fact, let’s look at that one; it provides some insights.

Yes, I recognize that it takes less time to say “ageism” than to say, “age discrimination.”  But what is more significant is the common usage.  I first heard “ageism” from someone explaining that he didn’t like “Maggie-May” by Rod Stewart because the line, “The morning sun when it’s in your face really shows your age” is ageist.  Really. That’s what he said.  From that standpoint, as a middle-aged man who is sad that more hot 18-year-olds aren’t attracted to him, I think eliminating “ageism” would be great. But, c’mon.

I have never heard “ageist” used in, “They wouldn’t hire this kid at the fast food place because there are now older, more reliable, more settled people available for those jobs,” or, “They wouldn’t hire her because she’s too close to retirement age.” And the reason is because, for those issues, the term “age discrimination” deals with an action, and “ageism” with a thought. “Ageism” isn’t about unfairly keeping people from things they’re entitled to, it’s about bad thoughts.  “Ableism” isn’t about failing to provide reasonable access to those with disabilities, it’s about bad thoughts.  “Classism” isn’t about the different living conditions of those who must sell their labor-power and those who exploit labor, it’s about bad thoughts.

Which then ties into point two above.  Yes, indeed: as a writer, I’m the last person to deny that the words we use affect how we think. But how much of an effect compared to other things?  I should tell you that, when I have a toothache, no matter how much I tell myself that it’s a soothing warmth, it still hurts just as much.

Yes, well, but what about racism? One the one hand, that is also about thinking bad thoughts. But on the other, historically, the fight to end racism was part of the fight to emancipate the working class.  Now, yes, with the “anti-racist” movement, it has turned into a tangled nest of trivialities.  But there is long tradition before that of battles for issues that were vital–that made a difference to more than a group of privileged middle-class radicals concerned that someone is making them feel bad.  It is that tradition that, in my opinion, makes all the difference.

At some point, you cross a line.

On one side of the line is avoiding disrespectful language.  On the other side is a dramatic overestimation of how much language affects thought, and an underestimation of the importance of material conditions.  This leads to people directing efforts to change others’ language–and, indeed, ideas–as opposed to concentrating on the conditions that create discrimination, and on trying to understand how those conditions can be changed.  In the fight to change conditions, of course, language is a powerful tool.  It is vital to be able to make fine distinctions–to understand and communicate with precision.  If you have two politicians who both support capitalism (hard to believe, I know, but go with me), it is very useful to be able to describe one as reactionary, the other as a reformist; they are different, and must be addressed and attacked differently.  Other shades within those are also useful.  So I’m not saying language doesn’t matter.

“Yes,” some will say.  “But ideas lead to actions.”  Well, yes, they certainly do.  But whence came those ideas in the first place?  As a materialist, I believe that being determines consciousness.  Why is it that the woman near retirement isn’t being hired; that someone younger is?  It is not because someone in Human Resources dislikes old people; it is because it is in the economic interests of the company to hire someone who may be around longer after training.   If you think it is the thoughts that are primary, you will concentrate on getting people to think right, and believe that this will change conditions.  If you think conditions are primary, you will concentrate on changing conditions, convinced that ideas–or the possibility of attacking those ideas–will follow.

In a way, of course, this all takes place in the realm of ideas.  But there is a non-trivial difference between, “Let’s fight to make sure that everyone, regardless of age, has a decent standard of living,” and, “stop using language that implies some age is better than another.”  These battles will produce different results.  Are they mutually exclusive? In theory, no.  In practice, they seem to be.  Those who concentrate on language appear to have accepted the fundamental characteristics of society as given and are working to make certain adjustments within it.

“Negroes” became “blacks” became “African-Americans” or “People of color” and it made exactly zero difference.  Black police were appointed and black mayors (and now a President)  were elected and it made exactly zero difference.  A mass movement of the black poor gathered, swept students and working class whites into its wake, and shook society to its core, and that made a difference in the lives of millions of human beings.  Yes, I know: there are those who will say that things are “no different” now than during the period of Jim Crow, because people still have racist thoughts.  People who say that can vote, and drink at whatever water fountain they chose, eat in restaurants, and date who they wish without expecting to be lynched.  Not to put too fine a point on it, but they can fuck off.

Language is a reflection of culture, much more than a determinate.  It is, in my opinion, sufficient to point out that there are several languages (at least ten) in use today that have a gender-neutral pronoun;  none of them demonstrate fewer signs of oppression of women than those that use the generic “he.”

When the concentration is on language, the issues it can address are trivialities of concern only to a privileged few.

When the concentration is on action, the issues it can address are of vital concern to millions.

My mother was often selected to chair meetings.  The speaker would frequently open with, “Comrade chairman and comrades.” At one point, a feminist berated my mother for allowing herself to be addressed as “chairman” instead of “chairwoman” or “chairperson,” and I can still remember the contempt on my mother’s face–a face that really wasn’t used to showing contempt.  “We’re trying to overthrow capitalism,” she said.  “We don’t have time for nonsense.”

So there is the real question: are you going to work to end the system that breeds–that requires–unfair discrimination among people, so that the oppressed masses will have a chance to escape oppression?  Or will you simply accept that system as permanent and see if you can change a few hearts and minds so that the middle-class can be more comfortable?  Someone who dismisses you as “politically correct” because you do not want to use demeaning terms to describe people, is just being an asshole.  But someone who uses the term for cases where ideas are seen as more important than human oppression may well be onto something.

 

 

*This was pre-internet, remember, so conversations were sometimes face-to-face.  I mean, both of you in the same room at the same time.  You’ll have to just take my word that this used to happen, and wasn’t even considered that odd.  I could probably find evidence to support my assertion, but I’m too lazy to look it up right now.

I’ve been irritated at the term, “First Responders” since I first heard it, I think in connection with the attacks on the World Trade Center.  But until now, I couldn’t put my finger on why the term annoyed me.

Because, quite simply, it eliminates the distinction between firefighters and paramedics on the one  hand, and police on the other.

When one hears the term, “Firefighter,” one thinks of someone who will risk his life to save another; of someone with skills and training in a vital, life-saving science. Even those of us on the far Left, when we hear of someone shooting at a Firefighter, have an instant reaction of outrage and disgust.  The term “First Responder” is also used to talk about paramedics; everything I’ve said about firefighters goes for them, as well.

But the police?  Really?  Seriously?  You’re going to lump the police in with those whose most important job is saving lives?

The State is a body of armed men whose job it is preserve property relations–more precisely, to preserve property.  They have guns in order, above all, to make sure that the poor remain poor, and the rich remain rich.

Of course it is the case that firefighters have the job of preserving property, and that police save lives.   But in neither case is that their primary function as we think of them.

And of course, there is no doubt that some individuals joined the police force from pure motives, or that some of them have risked their lives to rescue innocent people.  Not the point. Those of us who look for the revolutionary transformation of society–of the destruction of private property–as the only way forward for humanity will, quite naturally, look upon the police as the enemy.  It is uncertain which elements of the armed forces will come over to support a revolution; but we know the police will be on the other side.  We know they’ll be shooting at us.  They’ve done so before, many times.  I’ll put it another way: historically, when the army has been ordered to shoot down innocent civilians, soldiers have sometimes balked; the police have not.  That’s their job.

To lump paramedics and firefighters in with them as if they were the same thing strikes me as nothing less than an obscenity.

(Reminder that this post was written back in February and is about a specific action directed at DC comics; it isn’t about boycotting the Ender’s Game movie. If folks coming over from boingboing could please try to grasp all that before posting their comments, we’ll all be a little happier. –jenphalian)

I like having this blog, because it permits me to figure out what I believe. The recent issue with Scott Card is a good case in point; I found myself saying things that, before I’d written them, I wasn’t aware that I thought. I like that. It’s valuable to me. That’s why I’m continuing it over on this rock. What I want to try to work out is the more general attitude about the right of free speech, what it means, and how a revolutionary ought to apply it to a reactionary.  In this post, I am going to be thinking aloud, and I’ll be talking less about the Scott Card issue, and more about trying to understand, for myself,  how to look at such questions.  If, by the time I get done with this, I find I’ve reversed my position, I’m going to be very embarrassed.

All right, let’s see what happens.

Some people seem to have it pretty clear. If I’m understanding the positions correctly, among those who do not see much or any ambiguity, I’m hearing a couple of different approaches:

Pro-Boycott: The guy’s a homophobic douche, and he’s actively working to deny human rights to a section of the population, and I’m not the government for heaven’s sake, I’m a consumer talking to other consumers; so if we can pressure DC Comics into not hiring this guy, we’ve done no harm (he can afford it) and maybe some good if DC starts paying more attention to the message they’re sending by employing such people.

Anti-Boycott: Anything anyone ever does that interferes with anyone’s right to express himself is wrong, or at least highly suspect.

I hope I’ve expressed both of those position accurately.

All of my inclinations and instincts incline more to the anti-Boycott than the pro: it seems to me that, the more I hate what he’s saying, the more I ought to defend his right to say it. The problems with such a simple formulation are: 1) No one is attempting to interfere with his right to express his ideas; the effort is to deny him one particular bit of work, and there the effort is far more symbolic than practical: shouldn’t comics companies give some thought to who they’re hiring, and what that says?  2) He’s not just talking, he is actively working and engaged in attempting to have laws passed that would deny human rights.

My answer to 1 is that this amounts to–no is–demanding that DC create a blacklist–a list of people who should not be employed because of political activity.  Do you favor that method of fighting? Do you really want to say, “Let us use the threat of denial of employment as a method of attack against our political opponents”? That isn’t like what McCarthy did–it is exactly what McCarthy did. Yes, there was also, at a certain point, the use of the State, and that is an important difference; but most of what McCarthism was, was blacklisting–“We are not saying you cannot hire Herbert Biberman because of his beliefs; that would be unconstitutional, and besides, we’re just ordinary citizens like yourself.  We’re just making sure you know that he’s a communist, and if you hire him we’ll mail letters to all of your sponsors letting them know that that you are hiring a communist, and if they don’t have a problem with that, we’ll use the internet, uh, I mean the press to make sure that everyone knows that those sponsors don’t have a problem supporting communism.  Besides, he’s made a lot of money writing for TV, so where’s the harm?” So, to this I say, folks, give some really serious thought to whether you want to go there.  Is sending DC a petition going down that road? I believe it is at least the first few steps.

Point 2 is rather more problematic for me.  This bastard really is conspiring to deny human rights, and that is wrong;  To limit one’s self to the most passive form of speech, when he is using the law, seems like fighting with one foot in a bucket.  And yet–well, it’s never “just speech.” If one is speaking of one’s political opinions, whether from a podium during an election campaign, or standing up at a City Council meeting, or just blathering on the internet, one is trying to do something.  One is trying to change minds, in order to change actions, in order to change the world.  So if none of it is “just speech” then I think that efforts to change the law have to be looked at as part of that.

There is a third point, that isn’t mentioned much. It can be expressed as follows: But we’re right, and they’re wrong. That one is easy to dismiss, but I can’t dismiss it. It’s true. Efforts to defend human rights just aren’t the same as efforts to restrict human rights. Defending human rights is important–it’s vital, especially right now, when Bush and then Obama have done so much to take away our basic rights, and to threaten even more. So, is it okay to do things in defense of human rights that it isn’t okay to do attacking them? I can’t just throw that one away with platitudes about “fairness.” In a comment a while ago I spoke of morality as a product of society, rather than something descending from On High with the Power of Timeless Truth.  We live in a society of oppressed and oppressors. For the most part, we are handed our morality by the oppressors.  They believe, for example, that violence to end oppression is immoral.  Go figure.  I believe violence by the oppressor to maintain that oppression is immoral; I believe violence by the oppressed in order to end oppression needs to be evaluated based on how effective a tactic it is. I don’t go for “fair” as some abstraction; I am partisan. This isn’t football; it isn’t even poker. This is life. Welcome to the game.

So, then, the question immediately stops being, “is it morally wrong to try to convince DC to blacklist Scott Card.” It becomes, “Is it a good tactic to try to convince DC to blacklist Scott Card.” In the previous discussion, Emma pointed out, quite correctly, that it’s an ineffective way to create change. I agree, but there’s more. Just like in a good work of fiction, what we need to examine are consequences.  And the consequences of creating a blacklist are simple: it opens the door for it’s use against us. And, frankly, we’re a lot more vulnerable than they are; they have the entire power of the massive machine of capital and the State; we have only what we can pull in with our voices.

The fight to defend human rights is, I believe, a part of the war to reconstruct society on a rational basis–because I am convinced that human rights cannot be defended otherwise than with the socialist reconstruction of society.  To win that war requires (among other things) changing minds on a massive scale.  Those who attempt to restrict, confine, or interfere with my ability to change minds by controlling communications media, or by economic pressure, or by physical threats, or by passing laws, or by increasing the power of the police, are enemies of freedom.

And here’s the thing: Those who would use those tactics against the enemy at this stage of the conflict, are providing them cover and justification, and thus hurting the fight for equality.  At least until the balance of forces changes, I believe we need to avoid doing anything that could give the enemy the least pretext or justification for further assaults on our freedom.

So, after all of this, my conclusions have changed: I now oppose the action, not for moral reasons, but strictly for practical ones.

If anyone has stayed with me on this long, self-indulgent journey into my belly-button, you have my thanks.