I agree that the current political rhetoric is far too combative. The problem is not that some want to use this moment to start a thoughtful dialog about civility in political discourse. The problem is, many are doing so in a confrontational way, and with the use of violent rhetoric themselves (which is not conducive to thoughtful dialog).

By approaching the issue as a confrontation, it is only natural that conservatives become defensive and point to instances of the other side behaving in the same way.[1] When presented with these examples, liberals become defensive and no dialog is possible. The way to approach an issue like this is with a humble admission of our own mistakes, even if we think the mistakes of the other side are worse. As long as both sides are making one-sided arguments, there’s no chance of accomplishing anything.

As I said yesterday, I’m not ready to pin blame on any particular individual or group for inciting violence. Examples abound of both parties using violent language in political speech. It’s a pointless game of tit-for-tat. This is a multi-layered issue that calls for more careful consideration. My goal here isn’t to defend anyone in particular, nor is it to tackle the larger issue itself. I’m just hoping to provide some perspective and encourage anyone reading this to approach the issue with more humility than I’ve seen around the Internet.

Fire!

The primary issue is, as usual, freedom of speech.

In a comment on my previous post, Ed rightly points out that our laws do recognize the power of speech (and put some limits on it). He uses the classic example of yelling “fire” in a theater (although he acknowledges it’s not a perfect analogy for the current issue). A letter to the editor in the Fresno Bee today makes the link explicit.

It is illegal to yell fire in a crowded room. Yet, some “news” pundits and politicians are yelling fire, and riling up unstable minds to acts of violence like the one we witnessed on Saturday in Arizona.

The obvious problem with this line of thinking is, pundits are not “yelling fire.” If they were (analogically speaking), it would take the form of literal, explicit threats. As it is, they are only pointing out the fire exits. There must be some intermediary interpretation to see it as an implied threat, and even then it probably impossible to prove.

But the analogy is a weak one. When yelling “fire!” in a theater, there is no reasonable alternative intent: you’re trying to stir up trouble. You can’t explain to a judge that screaming about fire is a metaphor for how cool the movie is.[2] The argument can certainly be made that violent political rhetoric is intended to stir up trouble (violent or otherwise), but that is not the only reasonable interpretation. An equally valid (and perhaps stronger) argument can be made for an intended metaphorical meaning.

Nearly everything about our political process is couched in metaphor, and much of it is the metaphor of battle. That’s how it’s always been. As humans, we’re wired to more clearly remember and give more weight to recent events, but history shows a long tradition of vilifying political opponents and using war language in political campaigns.

I’m not saying it’s OK; I’m just pointing out that there is an ebb and flow for this type of thing. It is not entirely unique. I’ll go as far as to say, it is nearly impossible to talk about politics without these metaphors. At this point, many of them don’t even seem like metaphors: attack ads, getting fired up, fighting for victory. That means any shift will require at least a partial rewriting of the political vernacular, which is all the more reason to approach the issue calmly.

It’s not them, it’s us

I think Ed is correct in saying that even if the shooter turns out to have been explicitly motivated by Palin’s speech/map/etc., her supporters will not blame her. I also expect that if he turns out to have been motivated by some liberal rhetoric, liberal groups will not accept blame.[3] The question at the heart of it is, how much blame can be attributed to that sort of thing? The answer for many people seems to be either “a lot” (if it turns out to hurt their opponent) or “not very much” (if it hurts themselves). This gets to the root of the problem, and I think it transcends political parties.

As political creatures, we tend to view everything an opponent does as if they are pure evil.[4] That’s what allows people to be outraged at Palin’s crosshairs, but then make excuses when Democrats use targets.[5] Although the images are nearly identical, we just know that Palin has a sinister motive whereas our guys made an honest mistake. The map is just one example. We’re more prone to see violence in the words of the other side—and not among our own—because we expect it and are therefore looking for it. That’s not to say there is no violence present in their rhetoric; it’s just to say that it may be exaggerated in our minds, and overlooked or excused when our own side says something similar.

The truth is, Sarah Palin is a panderer, not a murderer. She uses gun metaphors because it plays into her moose-hunting, straight-shooting, gee-whiz, Alaska-maverick gimmick. She uses it because she knows it pisses off her opponents and gets them talking about her. She says things like “don’t retreat; reload,” not because she advocates violence, but because she speaks in bumper sticker slogans. In a perfect world, she’d come clean and admit she’s been doing a schtick, and start choosing use her words to communicate rather than provoke (it provokes far more annoyance than it does violence). But if she doesn’t, there’s not much we can do about it without calling into question a significant percentage of political speech, on both sides.

Seriously, it’s us

Regardless of which side we perceive as “worse,” the type of combative rhetoric we’re seeing just begets more of itself. The current political climate is like the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. Both sides can justify their violent behavior/speech by saying the other side started it. At this point, “who started it” is irrelevant. It’s just escalating into the ridiculous.

With that in mind, it’s not surprising that the protests against Palin’s speech have degraded into violent rhetoric themselves.

When pressed, many of those attacking Palin admit it’s nearly impossible to establish legal culpability for the shooting, but their language doesn’t reflect that.[6] Calling her a murderer with blood on her hands is not reasonable discourse, even if we think she deserves it. It is, however, protected speech.

Many on the political left suggested that inflammatory rhetoric contributed to the murder of abortion provider Dr. George Tiller. Much (not all) of the rhetoric I’m seeing about Palin now is identical to that used against Tiller. The knee-jerk response to this is, “Yes, but they were wrong about him, but we are right about her” (and vice versa for conservatives). The fact is, it doesn’t matter. The actions of both individuals (Tiller and Palin) were legal. (Whether or not they were moral is a matter of conscience, not law.)

We can’t have it both ways. Either this type of rhetoric is legally allowed or it’s not. Either charges should be brought against both Bill O’Reilly for calling Tiller a murderer and those calling Palin a murderer, or they should be brought against neither.

The end

I think it’s a good idea to try to limit irresponsible political speech, but not by legal means. Lines need to be drawn (that’s a metaphor too), but legal limits on speech require serious thought and deliberation—not a knee-jerk response like some are advocating. For someone like me, who is wary of any new restrictions on speech, the issue becomes an familiar one: just because you can say something doesn’t mean you should.

There should be a change, and that change needs to come from within. It’s easy to complain about those on the other side, but that’s not going to change their minds (if anything, it just validates their positions). We need to be alert to our own prejudices[7] and reject this kind of speech when it comes from our own—whether we’re on the left, right, or center. It may not seem fair to us if, while we’re cleaning up our own act, it seems our opponents are just continuing on with their violent rhetoric. Maybe it isn’t fair. On the other hand, maybe other thoughtful people will start to follow our example. Or maybe they won’t. It doesn’t matter. “Winning” at politics should not be an excuse to disregard our principles.

1. I present this link as an example, not as a justification for anyone else.
2. Strictly speaking, you can make this argument, if you want to act cute and annoying. But I’m trying to have a real discussion here.
3. Politics seemingly renders people incapable of admitting to any mistakes. On some level, this is understandable; even on the rate occasion that someone apologizes for sloppy political speech, the other side routinely derides them as insincere.
4. Or pure stupid.
5. To me, the argument that crosshairs are somehow more violent imagery than targets smacks of post hoc reasoning; and it is undercut by the argument that, although the crosshair imagery may in fact be metaphorical, an unbalanced individual may act on it. Someone who is predisposed to kill at the sight of gun crosshairs or bullseyes probably isn’t going to ponder the subtle nuances of the imagery.
6. Likewise, many conservatives admitted there was nothing the government could do, legally, to prevent the mosque near Ground Zero, but that didn’t stop them from making it a political issue.
7. Let’s do away with the go-to response, “My previous standards don’t apply because this situation is different.” Every situation is different, but the same rules should apply across party lines.

At this point, little is known about the shooter’s motives. The details we know about him point to a disturbed and unbalanced individual. Non-specific arguments about the general violent tone of the current political climate may have some weight,[1] but many of the comments I’ve seen include very specific language: Palin should be held “directly responsible,” the shooter was “taking orders” from the Tea Party, Palin is “guilty of murder.” At best, even as hyperbole, that kind of talk is premature.[2]

If a link is eventually drawn, it would still be difficult to establish it as an extraordinary occurrence. The “bullseye” and “targeting” metaphor is nothing new to election politics, nor is it exclusive to any particular party or ideology. As others have shown, Democrats have used bullseye maps in the same way. The usefulness and propriety of such metaphors is debatable too, but pretending that it’s unprecedented isn’t helpful.

The thing that bothers me most is this “external forces” double standard. A few weeks ago, when that crazy person shot up the school board meeting in Florida, I was glad to see no one blaming the movie V for Vendetta (from which the shooter explicitly drew inspiration). It seemed everyone agreed a movie shouldn’t be blamed for the actions of a disturbed individual.

This was a pleasant exception to the rule. We all know countless stories of crimes being blamed on violent movies, rock music, and video games. Most of the time, it’s those on the political left defending freedom of expression. But this seems not to apply when they have an opportunity to attack a political enemy.[3]

Someone on Twitter rebutted someone else’s Palin-blaming with this:

Blaming Sarah Palin for this shooting is like blaming Marilyn Manson for Columbine.

To which the response was:

Which I seem to remember the right wing had NO problem doing.

OK. Is this person saying the “right wing” was correct in blaming Marilyn Manson for Columbine, and therefore should be OK with him blaming Palin for this shooting? Probably not. What he’s saying is, the right wing was wrong to blame that external source (music) for that tragedy, but I am correct to blame this external source (speech) for this one. So the response is, essentially, “Don’t talk to me about logic or principles. I’m not speaking from a principled position, but rather a political one.”

This happens all the time, on both sides of the political spectrum. We view external events in ways that validate our particular ideologies. We become outraged at whatever disturbs our preconceived notions, and we actively seek out whatever confirms them.

The logically consistent stance is, either (1) external sources should be accountable in some way for how they are interpreted by others. Or (2) they shouldn’t. If it’s reasonable to expect video game players to realize their shoot-’em-up game isn’t real life, then it’s equally reasonable to expect the general public to recognize metaphor in political speech.[4]

My purpose is not to advocate for Sarah Palin or the foolish imagery she uses in her political speech. I am simply appealing for consistency.

I think there is a political lesson to be learned here, but it isn’t, “Your words kill people.” It is this: “People kill people, so don’t say things that will make you look like an asshole when they do.”

1. For a brief, but thoughtful look at this issue, see here.
2. At worst, these types of comments (calling someone a murderer, “blood on their hands,” etc.) are often viewed themselves as incitements to violence.
3. Those on the right are equally as happy to overlook the Constitution when it things like building a mosque.
4. And there is plenty of historical precedent, as well.

I presented the link and said only that my respect for Black had increased, but didn’t comment further. I wanted people to draw their own conclusions about it. Also, I hate starting political discussions because they never ever accomplish anything. People (myself included) are far too entrenched in their own ideologies to consider changing their minds, so what’s the point?[1]

But I’ll let you in on a secret: The thing that I admired about Black’s response was his fair-mindedness.

Black’s point was not that Obama is super great (although he may well think so, and he may be right) but rather that Hitler was so effing horrible that it’s ludicrous to suggest any American president (thus far) is comparable. Comparing a president with Hitler is an interesting psychological exercise, but equating a president to Hitler is the laziest form of idiocy.[2]

Black sums up his position:

Incidentally, although I love Obama, I hope my reaction would have been as vehement if the heckler had said the same thing about W, who I did not care for. Here’s something I believe that nobody else seems to believe: people are doing the best they can. They’re trying to make good decisions, and instead of seeing everybody who disagrees with us as the enemy, we should first take it at face value that they are doing their best. Even when we think they’re fucking morons.

Believing someone has ulterior motives is not unreasonable. What is unreasonable is claiming to know, in the absence of real evidence, exactly what those motives are. (Note: People do not always act solely in their own self-interest. Also, “It’s obvious; everybody knows it” is not evidence.)

But then today, when I saw someone else link to the article, I noticed something I’d missed before. The headline reads, “Michael Ian Black’s Tirade Against a Racist Obama-Hater During Set.” Seems straightforward enough. Until you realize that there’s nothing in the article to suggest that the audience member was racist, or that the exchange had anything at all to do with race.

When confronted with a person stupid enough to equate a president with a ruler who systematically exterminated millions of people, is it really necessary to tag on a superfluous “racist” label? Perhaps, if the person had said something about race. But apparently he didn’t. So what makes this person a “racist”? I suppose it’s obvious. He disagrees with a black person. Everyone who said George W. Bush was like Hitler was also anti-Texan.

Ironically, this is an example of the same knee-jerk reaction Black is complaining about. Accusations without any evidence, or even any thought.

To me, an accusation of racism is a serious thing. Racism is about as repugnant a state of mind as there could ever be. So it takes a lot before I’ll concede that a person is indeed racist. In the same way that it takes a lot for me to concede that a person is indeed like Hitler.

As comedian/magician Penn Jillette notes, when we claim a person is racist in the absence of actual racist speech and actions, we’re claiming to see into their hearts.[3] This is a claim that no one should be making.

I should note, I’m not speaking here about individuals who actually do hurl epithets and carry racist signs. I’m speaking about casting entire political movements (or even entire political parties, and often even in the face of explicit repudiations of racism) as racist because we just know they can’t possibly be concerned about the things they actually say they are concerned about.

Do racist people oppose Obama? Yes. That’s the definition of racism. Is everyone who opposes Obama a racist? No. That’s the definition of having an opinion.

When we go beyond what people say about why they think what they do, to the point where we claim to see into their hearts to their true, hidden intentions, we’ve gone too far. When we go beyond a person’s profession of Christian faith, to the point where we claim to see into his heart where he’s really a secret Muslim, we’ve gone too far.

1. Well, my point here is just to vent, mainly.
2. Predictably, lots of people missed the point. The comments section on the article is full of partisan bickering and explanations why it’s ridiculous to say my favorite politician is like Hitler, but it’s quite reasonable to say so about the politician I don’t like.
3. Why is it that comedians are making more thoughtful and nuanced points about politics than our politicians and pundits?

First of all, I was glad that the CA supreme court decision didn’t invalidate my gay marriage. My hope is that, if they ever overturn Roe v. Wade, they won’t invalidate all the previous abortions. I feel like that would upset a lot of women.

But you know I don’t like getting into politics. The government is just too annoying. Let’s talk about cars instead… oh. Shoot.

Well, how about, I’m thinking about buying a new house… uh oh.

You suck!

Ahem. Well, what is there left to talk about if we’re not talking about politics? I guess the only thing left is—

You’re not funny! Get off the stage!

Excuse me, ma’am. Do I come to where you work and knock the briefcase out of your hand?

Boo!

Where are you from?

You suck!

Listen, lady. I’m just trying to make people laugh. Give me a break, OK?

Kit Kat Bar!

You’re drunk.

So are you! You suck!

You know, fifty years ago you would have been strung upside-down with a fork in your ass.

What does that even mean!?

I don’t know. I heard it somewhere.

Get off the stage!

I swear, this is the last time I try out new material in front of you, mom.

Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

Who do you suppose I’m talking about with a sentence like that? The answer: everyone. The Republican backers of the initiative would clearly not have proposed it if California were a Republican-leaning state. And the vehemently opposed Democrats would have no problems proposing the exact same thing if it were the other way around (as they have in other states like Colorado). Neither side is presenting any real arguments. The Republicans are trumpeting, ironically, the familiar Democrat “every vote should count” rhetoric (even though it’s really “certain votes should count more than others”), and the Democrats are even worse with their main argument: “Buh, whuh… fwuh… that would make us lose the presidential election!”

It’s too bad because there are real issues to be considered here. It all starts with a little thing I like to call The Electoral College…

I suspect most people have no idea why it exists, or have some vague notion of the Founding Fathers not wanting to give real political power to Johnny Everydude. And for all I know that’s true. But I also realize that the Electoral College is more relevant now than it was 200 years ago.

Our country is big. Big and sprawling and geographically diverse, with a lot of people. And the population is nowhere near evenly distributed on all that land. A few super-concentrated cities house most of the country’s population. But even so, there are still A LOT of people who don’t live in big cities. And these people have generally different concerns and governmental needs than those living in drastically different environments. It’s the precise reason we have a bicameral legislature, with representatives from every area of the country, addressing the needs and concerns of that area’s citizens (ostensibly, anyway). Areas of greater population density are given more voice in the House, but the Senate, with 2 representatives for each state, ensures that as broad a swath of the citizenry as possible retains a strong voice in governement.

The Electoral college operates in the same way. Each state is assigned the same number of votes as it has representation in congress (2 senators plus however many reps). What does this mean? Every state, even those with relatively small populations, gets to contribute to the national election. Without this system, what incentive do candidates have to go to the time and expense to make campaign promises to citizens of Alaska, with its approximately 0% of the national population?

Well, you may ask, who cares? Why should candidates have to care what 0% of America wants? Because 0% is about three-quarters of a million people. And that, by anyone’s standards, is a pretty substantial disenfranchisement. Which, according to election-time pundits, is a bad thing.

You may have seen the county-by-county election results map of the 2000 election. You’ll recall that Gore (blue) won the popular vote (no one disputes this). But look how much geographical area he carried (the most populous cities). It’s not a stretch to imagine a national election, decided by popular vote, in which candidates can essentially ignore Montana, Wyoming, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Idaho, Nevada, Utah, Kansas, and huge parts of many other states. If you spend all your time and shore up support (by whatever means possible) in New York and along the West Coast, along with a few other choice locales, you’ve got it made. And that leaves us with millions and millions of U.S. citizens with what amounts to no say in national politics.

That’s the genius of our constitution. It really is an astounding document in its foresight (it’s a shame that politicians spend so much of their time trying to subvert it for their own purposes). When the electoral college was devised, the country was much smaller and less dispersed (though transportation made it seem larger). But even then the framers realized that inclusion is key to a healthy democracy (even if that democracy is a republic).

It’s uninformed to say the electoral system cheapens your vote. You’re vote has a very direct effect on who your state’s electoral votes go to (technically the state’s legistlature decides how the votes are alloted, but almost all have it set up that the entirety of the electoral votes go to the candidate who won the most votes in the state).

That’s the point of the electoral college. I may have oversimplified it, but that’s how it stands.

Now there’s room for real disagreement. Perhaps it’s more equitable and in line with our national values to switch to a purely popular presidential election, at the expense of a few hurt feelings in the boonies. We’ve got new issues to deal with: California is roughly the same geographical size as the United States was when the system was instituted. I don’t know the answer. But I know that we must understand the underlying reasons for something before electing to change it.

And I also know that, without a massive overhaul of the nation’s political climate, no such rational, public discussion will occur. I would be very surprised to see, during my lifetime, any serious proposal for election reform driven not by politics, but by principle.

Postscript: I missed this op-ed published the same day as the original article. It says essentially the same thing about the electoral collage as I did, only better, and yes, it’s a partisan opinion in favor of the initiative.

The beauty of all this is suitably displayed by this letter to the editor, in which the writer upbraids The Chronicle for posting the op-ed without identifying the author as a Republican (duh.) former state senator (he identifies himself as such in the third sentence). The writer goes on to dismiss the former senator’s opinion, without actually addressing the ideas presented, because he belongs to a political party. Oh, what a tangled web.