Hi! Thank you for reading Hmm … That’s Interesting, a reader-supported publication! I know we discussed media literacy a few months ago, but I’m starting to think we need a recurring feature. This issue is free, although I’ve limited comments to paid subscribers because I’m not trying to get bullied. :) If you enjoy the newsletter and would like to support my work, as well as have access to the complete archive and all paywalled posts, please consider becoming a paid subscriber for $50/year ($4.17 a month!) or $5/month. I realize that this is not going to make me any friends or refute any of the claims of pseudo-intellectualism that may or may not be justifiably thrown my way, but: I have been thinking about Candide recently. Specifically:
It’s the mindset a lot of folks seem to be inhabiting when it comes to this election: as if to criticize is the equivalent of praising the other side; as if to offer opportunities for improvement is not to hope for a better future, but to invite defeat. That’s a harrowing position to take, because it implies that those we choose to represent us are not moved by public opinion or appeal. And I’m sorry, but isn’t that the whole point of the democratic process? Do people think our voice and our power begins and ends at the ballot box? Like, yes, this is a little bit about Chappell Roan saying Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party is currently not very great and getting absolutely flamed by the Vote Blue No Matter What crowd, but it's also about our collective tendency to stick our heads in the sand when uncomfortable (I almost said "inconvenient" and I would like a medal for withholding) truths rise to the surface. This, by the way, was the statement — part of a longer interview that I encourage you to read — that set the unpaid DNC staffers aflutter.
Banal, you would think. But Roan has now been lambasted by an army of grown adults for suggesting that Harris is an imperfect candidate. Would it be all right for me, a person who occasionally opens her eyes and looks outside her window and sees how our elected officials are spending our tax dollars¹, to acknowledge that there are some things that can be improved about our party and our platform and our politicians? Or is that simply not allowed anymore? Is it treasonous to discuss the many ways the Democratic Party can and should be improved? Will someone comment that "I want Donald Trump to win" and that I'm "being irresponsible with my audience" if I posit that perhaps the climate crisis should form a larger part of our Democratic platform, considering a hurricane just killed at least 50 people, ravaged several states, left millions without power, and devastated multiple cities and communities? If I suggest that it is anguishing to see, day after day, images of dead children in Gaza and to know that an administration I voted for continues to support — in practice if not in speech — the carnage? People are expecting perfection from Chappell Roan while accepting mere adequacy from the candidate running to become President of this country. Shouldn’t the asymmetry alarm us? A non-exhaustive list of responses I've seen following a critique of the Democratic candidate/platform:
I mention Candide because of elitism, and because I've been noticing some distressing signs. Due to the specter of the heinous Republican nominee and his mortifying running mate, it has become impossible to criticize any facet of the Democratic Party. I'm serious: any mention of Harris's disappointing continuation of Biden's Israel/Palestine policy, of the baffling choice to have said, "if someone breaks into my house, they're getting shot" (???), of her support for fracking, and people who consider the DNC an organization incapable of erring (or, apparently, change) will come for you sooner than you can say "Wisconsin." We have all, apparently, become a nation of small children who are incapable of walking and chewing gum at the same time. And that unsettles me. Because do we really hold ourselves in such low esteem that we cannot expose our nominee (or ourselves) to criticism without fearing that the election will be lost? "You'll scare the Republicans," I hear some people say without a trace of irony, as if conceding policy points to the literal Cheneys of the world were more important to me than urging my party’s candidate toward a climate plan that allows the Gulf Coast and Appalachia to stay habitable beyond the next decade or two? Not only is it apparently no longer the responsibility of a party and its candidate to win votes, but it is now voters' job to lower our expectations so we may add a few more former Reagan staffers to the endorsements tab. The run-up to the election is supposed to be a time of Big Ideas, and yeah, as voters we take into account the fact that some election promises aren't feasible. We know that. But we have to believe that there is the possibility of a brighter future. This election, there is little of that. Instead, there is an oppressive pragmatism at work that is drowning out any hint of a hope for a better world: one in which we might recognize that sending billions of dollars' worth of bombs and weapons abroad is shameful; that to execute individuals (whether they are innocent or not) in cold blood via capital punishment is a stain on our society; that a generative AI ecosystem that requires theft of artists' work and billions of gallons of water resources to function cannot possibly be an integral part of a sustainable future. We can't say any of this, apparently. Because to even try to imagine a better future is to court failure. "This election is too important to risk it," I hear, before seeing Harris tour the border. “So badass,” I see people tweet as they compliment the very same policies we denounced Trump for. Because my god, there's a whole planet between Big Ideas and commending Israel as it justifies the bombing of residential buildings in Beirut, advocating for fracking, and pushing for stricter asylum restrictions. It is depressing hearing the person I am supposed to vote for (because what is the alternative?) vocally support policies that would've been perfectly at home in the Bush White House. Which is why, I guess, we had so many Republican speakers at the DNC Convention. There is room for idealism in a campaign, but it seems like that room has been snuffed out by all the conservatives we've decided to play house with. Not only is the party getting our vote, they also require our obedient silence? It’s a little wild to me. And I know — I know — there's a difference between the candidates, especially for those of us who live in more conservative states, and especially for marginalized communities. That, to me, is the main argument for voting. Because I know that queer teenagers in Florida, pregnant women in Oklahoma, and union workers in Ohio are all better off under a Harris administration than a Trump one. Since we're adults, however, we can acknowledge that truth while also calling out the deep, fundamental flaws in the Democratic platform, in the hope that through the exposure, those flaws will find a path toward correction. Otherwise, doesn't it feel a bit like giving up? To settle for someone not because they're good, but because they're better than one of the worst candidates in the history of this country? Don't we owe it to ourselves, and to everyone around the world who this country's policies affect, to demand more? There are deranged people on Twitter calling Roan immature and selfish for not wanting to endorse a candidate who stands by as our supposedly greatest ally in the Middle East continues to wreak havoc on Palestine and now Lebanon. And yeah, you can say that Trump would've been worse, but the truth is that to trade in speculation is a fairly cruel endeavor — the dead can't put breath back in their bodies. A candidate who's done very little to suggest that her foreign policy approach will differ at all significantly from her predecessor's, who refused to even meet with the Uncommitted movement's representatives, who is moving to the right on immigration, and you want to make a young, politically aware celebrity feel guilty for not endorsing her? Surely you're joking. And yet I understand Roan's frustration at being (willfully) misunderstood by the public, because talking to family and friends about the election, I've felt it too. A sort of disbelief at the insistence that because this is our only choice, it is by necessity a good choice. Why are we gaslighting ourselves? The last few months have made me feel like I'm stuck in an escape room with people who still call words they don't understand "SAT words." No, calling Harris's foreign policy stance disappointing does not make me a Republican. It does not mean I'm voting for Trump, or that I want him to win. If we were all adults, the distinction would be implied, but since we are in a twilight zone made up of toddlers with Twitter accounts, it needs to be made explicit. Do people understand how silly it is to have to say all that, to have to draw the contours of context for those too lazy to give their brains something to do? It's embarrassing, this insistence on debasement for the sake of clarification, when the context is there for us all to grasp. How are we arguing about the ethics of engaging with politics in a critical manner? It is gutting to try to have an adult conversation and be met with a fan club. There are Americans out there angrier at Chappell Roan — a 26-year-old rising artist — for not endorsing Harris (she has, mind you, said she'd vote for her), than they are at Harris — the official Democratic nominee vying for our votes — for not doing a better job appealing to the base. Is this not madness? For a campaign to be so fragile that it can, apparently, be so easily derailed by a pop star pointing out the evident flaws in the platform? I'm tired of allowing the discourse to collapse to the lowest common denominator because certain folks can't seem to handle the idea of criticism of a politician who is running for President of the United States. Yes, Trump is a horrendous man and was a horrific president. I am not arguing he would be better than Harris. Well, then, why don't you criticize Trump et al? First of all, I do, but most importantly: as a Democrat, I have a much better chance of leveraging my vote to move Harris — my party's nominee, the one who’s supposed to have liberal policies — to a better position on foreign policy, climate, and immigration than I do Trump, since we all know I was never going to vote for him in the first place. (Do you see what a waste of time it is to spell out something that should be common sense? Now we've all embarrassed ourselves.) Thank you for reading! As always, you can find me on twitter, instagram, and tiktok. This newsletter is my pride and joy, with issues on topics like the celebrity apology industrial complex, Barbie’s Oscar noms, debriefing the Bezos’ fake normalcy, the media literacy crisis, and Stanley cups and hyperconsumerism. If you find yourself frequently enjoying these essays, please consider becoming a paid subscriber. P.S. Liking posts apparently makes a big difference for the ~algorithm~, so if you’ve enjoyed this issue and you’re inclined to hit the little heart, it wouldn’t be remiss! And if you share the post or a snippet on social media (thank you!), please tag me (I love to see it!), and include a link when possible (it does break my heart to make so many requests of you, my apologies). x 1 There is something very gauche about using "tax dollars" as the bogeyman, I know, but morality doesn't seem to cut through to people to the same extent. |