Time See What’s Become of Me

Iraq’s future is in the hands of long-time now.

There’s no need now to rush to the blog or the column, the talk show or the speech, to mark and masticate the meaning of each and every event. Listening to Swarthmore’s War News Radio (the last four programs have been really excellent), I heard one student summarize a suicide bombing from this week by saying that it was the worst attack since…the previous week.

Listening to the reporting of American casualties, I don’t hear more significance in a week of 20 dead than a week of 5 dead: it is an oscillation within an established register. Reading of American participation in the beating, torture and murder of a Ba’athist military officer and insurgent I don’t think, “Now there’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, which proves Abu Ghraib was not an isolated case”. That has already been proven: the new story is merely more demonstration of a pattern. Reading of Steven Vincent’s death, I wonder why some of his readers do not see the careful attention he was giving to the underlying pressures shaping Iraq’s evolution and the American involvement, the slow movement of events in one direction and away from the direction he believed in and cherished, a perception which led to his murder.

The determining structures are hardening in place, made as they always are by the accumulation of the choices of many people and institutions. Some choices made clearly, with foresight of their consequences. Many choices made hastily, without contemplation, in response to directives and impulses coming from far outside the heat and dust of the war itself. What Iraq is becoming is not just what America is making of it. It is not just what Iraqis are making of it. It is not just what the insurgents are making of it. No one has a god’s eye view, but anyone who thinks there is a good and desirable goal here beyond bolstering some bullshit partisan advantage has to at least try to look at the track that the train is travelling upon. If they’re not happy with the destination, they need to try desperately to pull the switch and move it onto a new one. A train track that’s just a single degree of angle away from another can lead, far later, to a radically different place.

No one knows what the insurgency wants, probably not even the insurgents. Partly because there is more than one insurgency: there are those who just want a better cut of the action in a corrupt postwar US client state, and those who think they can only get a better cut of the action by cutting out the “US client state” part and being just an ordinary corrupt Third World state. There are young jihadists who are the 21st Century’s Lincoln Brigades, restless young men who fuse romance and nihilism and treasure a chance to matter now rather than simply settle into the ordinariness of middle-aged anomie. What could satisfy them but death and killing, unless they somehow live long enough to see through the haze and their own narcissism to the lives they destroy and the futures they strangle? There are the flinty old manipulators and grand dreamers of Islamist movements trying to make moves on a global chessboard, with as little ability to tangibly grasp and hold onto the whole of the game as wonks in Washingtonian think tanks and Pentagon situation rooms. Different insurgencies, adding up to a complex sum far greater than any of its parts, pushing Iraq one way. Perhaps some insurgents do not want it to go that way, but given the incoherence of the overall situation and their own efforts, any direction except improvement of the American situation will do well enough.

There’s the Americans, trying hard to master a messy political situation with largely military means. Some dreamers who truly want a democratic and free society, with little thought to grand geopolitical plotting about Israel or oil. But the dreamers are mostly sleepwalking past what is happening: past the torture (“merely a few bad people, and we caught them”), past the shootings of innocents at checkpoints (“understandable error”), past the dirty deals with death squads (“counter-insurgency is all about breaking eggs to make omelets”), past the easy slide towards accomodating kleptocrats and ‘our-bastards’ in order to establish order. These are not single decisions, single events, with one turning point. That’s the real dreamers: there are also fake ones, who don’t actually care much about Iraq, just about gaining advantage within the United States or even just within the factions of the federal bureaucracy.

These are structures of decision, driven by the confluence of political expediency, the cycle of the American presidency, and more crucially, the deeply rooted and muddled instrumentalism of the war’s planners. The planners have unfocused eyes on the prize because they’ve never been honest with themselves or with the American public about what the prize was, save the unseating of Saddam Hussein. Yes, they did that, and we’re all quite happy about it. But if they want more, they’re going to have to move the train one angle away, shift the structures of decision, move the long-time. More American men and women in Iraq, soldiers and civilians, are going to die in the long-time between now and the day they are no longer there. If their deaths are ever to mean more than, “We got that bastard Hussein”, the logics of the long-time are going to need to push away from torture, away from expediency, away from backroom deals with people who have no more interest in democracy than the insurgents do.

And then there’s the Iraqis. Surely none of them, save the insurgents and the people seeking short-term advantage from American intervention, can be hugely satisfied with the situation as it stands, least of all those who believe in and hope for freer, better, safer society. Their hands are far from the train switch. It’s one thing to say that achieving democracy is a bloody and difficult business. Surely that’s so. But if you say it with any sincerity, think at least of the Iraqis as well as you think of Londoners. Mourn as much their dead as the dead in London’s undergrounds. Grant at least the indignity of being chosen to sacrifice your people in the struggle for democracy instead of choosing yourself to do so, the pain of being the proxy battlefield selected by bearded men huddled in caves at the high roof of the world and men gathered in situation rooms in Washington DC. Feel at least a little discomfort at the thought of people without representation or say being volunteered to heroic sacrifice in the global war on terror.

Iraqis most of all live in the long-time now, and most painfully of all of us, know least and fear most about where it is all heading.

Posted in Politics | 15 Comments

Recommended…

First, a trifling recommendation: Sky High is kind of fun. Nothing great, but amusing and with a few really great bits. Kind of like The Million Dollar Duck meets The Incredibles in its look.

More seriously: I’m probably the last geek out there to discover Battlestar Galactica. I kept seeing raves and kept thinking, “Oh, come on, how could you make that dreck into anything decent?” Well, it’s about as good as it gets. We plowed through the miniseries, we’re deep into the first season discs (UK version bought at Best Buy) and recording the second season. No spoilers! No spoilers! But I’m really very impressed.

Posted in Popular Culture | 8 Comments

Theories of People

When I teach my course on the history of consumerism, commodification and advertising, I often like to talk at some point about my favorite paradox about choice and agency in liberal democratic societies. From the last quarter of the 19th Century to the present, advertisers have periodically been assaulted by accusations that they somehow subvert or distort the ability of people to freely make their own choices. The more sophisticated version of this attack followed on Vance Packard’s famous The Hidden Persuaders: an assertion that advertisers had happened upon a technology of human consciousness that allowed them to not only understand but alter the way people thought, change their minds in some way that subverted conscious will. Packard’s reliance on particular forms of psychological thought has faded, but the accusation remains as a kind of substructure of popular culture.

To accusations like Packard’s, which really do run in cycles in most liberal democracies, advertisers habitually reply that they’re just providers of information, that nothing they do can subvert the essential autonomy of people to decide for themselves what they do or do not want. I have to say the advertisers had (and still have) a point: one of the startling things for me in researching the history of children’s television was having to acknowledge that the advertisers often had a vastly more sophisticated understanding of both children’s culture and children’s consciousness than various parental advocates and associated promoters of moral panic.

Still, there’s an amusing paradox here. Every once in a while, manufacturers go through a rather different cycle of skepticism and anxiety in which they ask themselves (and then ask others), “Do we really need advertising? Is there any proof that it really makes a difference, or that particularly good campaigns reliably yield superior results?” To which advertisers usually reply, “Oh, my, yes, you need us. Look, we can prove it: our particular campaigns can make people want your product more than they want the other guy’s product, regardless of whether your product is in any objective sense the better one.”

A modest contradiction. But one really not all that unique to advertisers. I was struck by this reading about the attempts of Britain’s Advertising Standards Authority to restrain alcohol advertisers from implying that getting drunk with their product leads to a greater chance of getting sex. The request of the regulators? Show the sexually attractive “Lambrini girls” snagging an old unattractive balding guy rather than a young hunk. Now like many people I suspect that even if you thought advertising illegitimately subverted the will of sovereign individuals, this would merely lead to more ugly old balding guys drinking Lambrini. I’m more interested though in the fundamental incoherence of the idea behind the entire regulatory apparatus.

You start either with an assumption that people are sovereign, consciously choosing individuals or that they’re not. If not, a whole boatload of things fall away: democratic elections, legal contracts, and all advertising, not just some of it. You can chart a bit of a middle course by talking about transparency, that sovereign choice can be compromised by the lack of information. But there’s no respect in which an advert with a young guy being caught by young women is more parsimonious in informational content than an advert with an old, fat, balding guy (except maybe that the second ad is a more accurate portrayal of how powerful senior men secure sexual services entirely without the aid of alcohol). You can only sustain this regulatory gesture by arguing that young men are systematically less able to exercise sovereign individual judgement than old men, and cannot read themselves out of a visual representation, that they are helpless before it.

This all has a lot to do with why I absolutely loathe George Lakoff’s crippling talk about “framing”. It’s a fatal dalliance for the Democrats, an invitation to think that the only reason they’ve lost elections is that they don’t subvert the will of the proles as effectively as the Republicans. This is fatal partly because it feeds into some of the subsurface elitism of some Democrats, and invites them to destructively Olympian and vanguardist attitudes. But it’s also fatal as a more general conception of politics: you can’t believe in the ability of people to choose (with whatever provisos and limits you want to put on that) while also preaching corrosively that it’s just a matter of slickly framing things to divergent communities’ prerational and ahistorical way of being in and seeing the world. Now I happen to think and hope that this will someday also be the downfall of the Republicans, that eventually some of their voting base will see that they’re being played. But if I want to understand why that hasn’t happened yet, I need to be just as interested in what it is that the voters see from within their social and personal worlds as I am in the kinds of rhetoric and appeals that is connecting with their vision. I need to assume that somehow a genuine connection has been made even if it’s one that is not in the ultimate interests of many Republican voters.

The same way that anybody sensible would concede that if a lad in England assumes getting drunk with women may help him score that weekend, he’s probably right in some respects. Maybe not with the “Lambrini girls”, but the regulators are stupid in assuming that the average lad thinks that in the first place. If you want to say, “Look, I’m not sure that turning your brains into porridge every weekend in order to score is the world’s smartest choice,” you can’t start by “framing” the issue, or by regulating it into nonsense.

Update: I’ve got the sexualized hook (literally as well as figuratively in this case) backwards: the targets of the campaign are women. Lots of other good and persuasive objections to my thoughts here in the comments as well.

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Weekend Photos

Messing around with different cameras: one a stereo microscope camera, the other a digital camera with some manual settings.

Posted in Blogging, Miscellany | 5 Comments

DeLong, Diamond and Savage Minds

[cross-posted at Cliopatria]

Brad DeLong has been fairly harsh in his response to the Savage Minds bloggers on the subject of Jared Diamond’s Guns, Germs and Steel. I also have problems with the SM bloggers in their reading (or viewing) of Diamond, but there are some legitimate criticisms of Diamond to be made, both problems that are particular to his work and problems that are more general in sociobiological or materialist histories.

I’m going to focus in particular on the chapter of GGS that deals most centrally with Africa.

First, on the contested question of Diamond’s “racism”. It’s a serious mistake to even imply that Diamond is racist, as Henry Farrell properly observes. I would say that he has a stubborn inclination to use racial terms when they don’t serve any empirical or descriptive purpose. It may be that a term like “race” can still serve some useful purpose in describing variations between human populations: I’m not going to make a definitive statement on that subject here. But just to give the example of the Africa chapter, Diamond clings to the term “blacks” as racial category within which to place most pre-1500 sub-Saharan Africans except for Khoisan-speakers and “pygmies”, even as he explicitly acknowledges that it is an extremely poor categorical descriptor of the human groups he is placing in that category. The chapter’s central interest is the migration of Bantu-speakers across the continent, with the argument that iron working and agricultural knowledge were what enabled them to displace autochthonous Khoisan and pygmy societies. This is an uncontroversial argument, but the point is that it doesn’t require a category of “blacks” to function, because the only thing Diamond is interested in is Bantu-speakers and their technological and material capacities. There’s no need for him to enfold the African populations of West Africa, who are not Bantu-speaking: their history isn’t what interests him in the chapter, he doesn’t talk about it save at the beginning. Why not call Bantu-speaking societies what they are? It’s not that much more technical a term than “blacks”. Throughout the book, Diamond seems to me to cling to terms and categories that he doesn’t need, and I’m not really sure why. However, I also think this is a relatively minor technical argument that doesn’t demand or deserve any kind of strong rhetoric.

Second, Diamond has a tendency to exclude—not even mention or argue against, but simply bypass—deeply seated causal arguments and evidence that don’t fit his thesis. Let me take the Bantu-speaking migration again. There’s no question that iron working and farming were very important to driving their movements across the central, eastern and southern portions of the African continent, and were the central reason why older populations of pastoralists and hunter-gatherers were either absorbed into Bantu-speaking societies or fled from their advance. But Diamond takes it as a given that iron working and farming are sufficient explanation of the migration itself, that they made the expansion of the Bantu-speakers inevitable. That may be so, but he doesn’t even bother to discuss segmentary kinship as a form of social organization within Bantu-speaking societies, and its possible role in pushing expansion. This is the key explanation that many Bantu-speaking societies offer themselves for their migrations, that when there was at some past point strife or tension among kin, a portion of a lineage would break off behind a charismatic lineage head and move on. That’s obviously not the whole story, but I think it’s part of it. Diamond’s materialism is so confidently asserted and at such a grand scale that he doesn’t even pause to defend it trenchantly the way someone like Marvin Harris does. It’s more at times as if he’s not even aware of other causal arguments. This is especially acute, as many readers of GGS have noted, with his views on Chinese history and the venerable question of why China did not industrialize but the West did. There’s a tremendous weight of evidence that the general political traditions of the Chinese state plus the particular decisions of its political elite at key moments are much more powerfully explanatory of China’s failure to expand or dominate in the post-1500 era than the big-picture materialism that Diamond offers.

Third, he is a bit prone, like many sociobiologists and evolutionary psychologists, to what I think of as “ethnographic tourism”, scooping up all the cases of human practice or culture that fit his assertions about universal patterns or behaviors. I think Diamond indulges in this bad habit more in The Third Chimpanzee than GGS: see for example in TC his discussion of penis size and male display among humans, where he asserts a universal and adaptive explanation but ignores historical and contemporaneous examples that don’t really fit the pattern. You can get away with that when you’re just describing a tendency, but the stronger your claims are couched in terms of universality and adaption, the harder it becomes. Diamond is by no means as egregious in this kind of cherrypicking as some evolutionary psychologists are, but the selectivity of his evidentiary citation grates a bit on anyone who knows the ethnographic literature. (Especially when you know that some of the 1970s and 1980s syntheses that he cites rely on older studies that are dubious or have been challenged since by both empirical work and theoretical critique.)

Fourth, on Yali’s question, I have a few problems. Though Brad DeLong insists that Diamond only means his answer to explain the relative imbalance in material wealth and power between many non-Western societies and the West up to 1500 and not afterwards, I think it’s clear that Diamond thinks that post-1500 events are no more than the icing on the cake, that the fundamental explanation of post-1500 inequalities and disparities in the world derive from the grand arc of pre-1500 development, from the luck of the geographical draw. He’s not alone in that: this is a venerable argument which takes on variant forms among world-systems historians and Marxists. But De Long is being a bit unfair to insist somehow that the Savage Minds bloggers have in this respect misread Diamond: he clearly argues that the pre-1500 history is crucially determinant of the post-1500 history.

More, Diamond’s arguments about Yali’s question strike me as sometimes being too large in temporal and geographical scale. He goes back too far and enfolds too much for at least some of what he’d like to explain. Because the grand argument of GGS turns on the slow accumulation of geographical advantage to people inhabiting the Eurasian continent, it sometimes ignores much more short-term material explanations which are potentially in and of themselves sufficient explanations. To explain the Atlantic slave trade in materialist terms, for example, you may need nothing more than the relative proximity of Africa and Europe, the trade wind system across the Atlantic, improvements in European nautical capability prior to 1450, and the relative lack of harbors plus poor habitability of the West and Central African coastline. To explain other aspects of Western expansion, you may need little more than the Crusades, the Mongols, and an understanding of long-distance trading patterns circa 1200. That may sound like a lot, but it’s a much more constrained set of factors with a much shorter temporal scale than what Diamond puts into play. And the Atlantic slave trade may itself be a nearly sufficient explanation of the expansion of the West after 1500, given the cascade of effects it unleashed.

Anthropologists and historians interested in non-Western societies and Western colonialism also get a bit uneasy with a big-picture explanation of world history that seems to cancel out or radically de-emphasize the importance of the many small differences and choices after 1500 whose effects many of us study carefully. For example, it seems to me that if you want to answer Yali’s question with regards to Latin America versus the United States, you’ve got to think about the peculiar, particular kinds of political, legal and religious frameworks that differentiated Spanish colonialism in the New World from British and French colonialism, that a Latin American Yali would have to feel a bit dissatisfied with Diamond’s answer.

For me, I also feel a bit at a loss with any big-picture history that isn’t much interested in the importance of accident and serendipidity at the moment of contact between an expanding Europe and non-Western societies around 1500. That seems a part of Cortes’ conquest of Montezuma, or the early beginnings of the Atlantic slave trade, when West African practices of kinship slavery fed quite incidentally into exchange with Portuguese explorers who weren’t there for slaves at all. It may be that such accidents are not the cause of the material disparity that Yali describes, but in many cases, they’re what makes the contemporary world feel the way that it does. It’s not that Diamond argues against such matters, but he doesn’t leave much room for them to matter, either.

Posted in Academia, Africa, Books | 6 Comments

Maybe I had better read more books first.

Oh. I thought “sawhorse” meant you were supposed to saw it.

Do you smell something burning?

Oh, geez, I’m supposed to used scrap wood to keep the cut from pinching. But I don’t have any scrap wood. This’ll do.

Posted in Miscellany | 18 Comments

Two Quick Notes

First, I’ve discovered that John Roberts’ brother-in-law is named Tim Burke. Just so you know, that’s not me.

Second, I still have my thumbs. I haven’t even assembled one bookshelf yet, though, let alone two. Let’s just say that my first run out the gate is going to be a wee bit sucky. It turns out that measuring with great precision is perhaps not my strong suit. But I may yet be able to put the thing together in such a way that it can actually be used to hold books.

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You Knew Me When I Had Thumbs

So I’ve been setting up for a while to do some woodworking. Reading a lot, practicing gently a bit, planning.

This weekend, I’m hoping to make two bookshelves, which has been the big short-term objective. I want to have some solidly made bookshelves with fixed, dado-cut shelves as opposed to cheap Ikea stuff. Buying good solid wood bookshelves with fixed shelves is prohibitively expensive, though frankly the capital investment in making them yourself isn’t anything to sneeze at. Oh, well, treehouses and all that in my future now that I’m power-tool equipped.

Pictures if I manage to pull it off. Or even if I don’t: I’m sure I can find someplace to dump my fingers or limbs in some fast food somewhere.

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Doing the Math

I’m starting to feel weary and gun-shy about political discussions in the public sphere (among bloggers or otherwise).

It feels to me that so few people are stopping to take a deep breath, look at issues from several angles, think about first principles, likely outcomes, the constraints on the possible. Even commentators that I’m generally in sympathy with are precluding any discussion besides strict agreement with their own take on matters.

I’m really feeling this with the Roberts nomination and the related discussion of Roe vs. Wade. Yes, I found the head-fake to Clement deplorable: a petty bit of political mockery from the inner cirlces of the Administration, a “hah-hah, you thought maybe for once we’d actually try to play to the center! Hah-hah!” Yes, this is about trying to get the Supreme Court to overturn much of what it has accomplished in the last twenty years, which makes me sad for a variety of reasons. Yes, I’m concerned about the threat to Roe vs. Wade.

But at the same time, here’s some other things on my mind.

1) Do we really want to be in the position of saying that we will oppose a candidate who has great qualifications for the Supreme Court strictly because of his apparent legal and political ideology? There’s only one person on the current Court who I think is straightforwardly a blemish on the institution, and that’s Thomas, who is clearly not qualified and who doesn’t even have a vague hint of a judicial temperment. Even Scalia was an intellectual asset of sorts before he started going off the religious deep end and cutting his originalism to fit instrumentally partisan ends. I think the ideal Supreme Court should have ideological and philosophical pluralism, as long as all of its members are intelligent, knowledgeable and persuadable, capable of adjusting their views in any particular case based on the soundness of the arguments presented to them. I understand that the arguments against using a “litmus test” are offered cynically by many on the right (and the culturally conservative right isn’t even pretending any longer that they don’t have their own litmus test). At the same time, I’m always thinking about where we want to be as well as where we are, and where we want to be, I think, is that the Supreme Court should have a different ethos of selection than other branches of government. I want to vote for Congressional representatives who will speak for my views on the issues, and a President who will lead in a way consistent with my political values, but I don’t want the same direct correspondence between my own political views on particular issues and each and every Supreme Court justice. Indeed, if we value the Warren Court’s legacy, that’s exactly what we’re saying.

2) That’s all pretty abstract. Let’s get down to the real deal. Do you think that there is any way in hell to stop the confirmation, barring the revelation of some dark secret about Roberts? Somebody tell me how the opposition pulls that off. No, don’t tell me to get angry, demonstrate, write letters to my (avowedly and inflexibly Republican) Representative or my (batshit insane and wimpily moderate) Senators. Not unless you can tell me about the unknown terrain between getting! really! angry! and “blocking the nomination with the result that a more moderate person is nominated next time”. So if the nomination isn’t going to be stopped, what should it be about? How about a longer-term strategy where the implications of the shift in the Court are made clear to the American public, where the Democrats in the confirmation process set themselves up as the reasonable guardians of American consensus as opposed to the irresponsibly partisan fringe-elements dominating the Republican Party? And so on: all things which seem to me necessarily preclude an apocalyptic, fight-to-the-finish, junkyard-dog strategy for opposing the Roberts nomination. There’s some consensus on the left that the longer-term strategy is the way to go, but it’s often followed by advice to hit Roberts himself hard, or to be fierce in the hearings, and these are incommensurable.

3) On Roe vs. Wade. Amanda Marcotte at Pandagon is unsparing: she says drop the “horseshit argument” that securing the right to choose abortion is going to have to be conceded back to state legislatures. There’s a lot of opinion behind her on this point. It’s an argument that was newly galvanized by Benjamin Wittes’ article “Letting Go of Roe” back in the February 2005 Atlantic Monthly.

I think that Marcotte and others are right about the consequences of accepting Wittes’ argument: there will be some states in which a choice that many of us regard as an expression of a larger right to privacy and self-ownership will be denied to women. In practical terms, it will be denied in particular to poor women who lack the resources to travel across state lines. I agree that if you see choice as part of a fundamental right, accepting that it is not a universally guaranteed right is extraordinarily painful.

But Wittes’ argument is not “horseshit”, and it’s not “looking for a way out of the fight”, both cheap responses to an important debate that we’d better have now in a much fuller and more mutally tolerant fashion. Wittes observes that centering the debate on Roe vs. Wade has prevented those of us who believe in choice and in the right to privacy and self-ownership from securing that right either constitutionally (with an amendment) or through state and federal statutes. We’ve put all our eggs in the Supremes’ basket. More importantly, Wittes is right, in my opinion, to note that our reliance on Roe has kept the cultural conservatives from having to actually shoulder the political cost of passing specific statutes that take away a right that the majority voting population of most states supports, from having to actually do something that will have concrete consequences in terms of the everyday lives of most Americans.

You could legitimately object that Wittes’ argument implies that we should never rely on the Court to do anything, in fact, that all rights should be secured by statute. Should we overturn Brown vs. the Board of Education, too? But this goes to the deeper heart of the abortion issue. The fact is that the Court’s civil rights decisions were, first off, supported by a wave of legal and political reforms. But second, they were supported by a broad and abiding moral and cultural consensus across the United States. The glorious triumph of the civil rights movement was that it simultaneously forced the political order to abide at long last by the guiding principles embedded at its foundations and it made white Americans who had not wanted to see or know or truly care about racial inequality to at last care, to recognize how far the country was from a minimal realization of its highest ideals.

Abortion has simply never achieved the same status. The right to privacy and self-ownership is supported by a relatively wide social consensus, but that consensus peels away significantly around abortion. Yes, at least some of the opposition to abortion is a reactionary, unacceptable opposition to the wider right of privacy, and some of it is unmistakeably motivated by a desire to control women, or to discriminatorily deny them a general right. Some of it is driven by the same kind of proxy exportation of fundamental social and cultural conflicts that appears in debates over gun control, free speech rights, and so on, where abortion is just a synecdotal device expressing a deeper cleavage. But some of the separation of abortion from the wider right to privacy is driven by an authentic if also ambivalent sense that abortion is a place where the right to privacy and self-ownership gets authentically complicated. Complicated because a child is a rights-bearing entity in its own right and because children, even in utero genuinely involve more than one person’s hopes, fears, wishes, desires and rights. Any argument on behalf of choice has to take that messiness and the unease it generates seriously, and that’s something which those of us who support Roe didn’t do for a long time.

We even have to take the more obdurate or extreme opposition seriously in that it exists and it persists. There was for a long time an assumption among supporters of Roe that the Court’s protection for the right to choose would eventually, by osmosis, create a consensus, that the opposition to Roe had the same archaic and self-evidently backward character that the opposition to civil rights did. That history would dispense with the opposition to choice, and that all we had to do was keep strong and organized amongst ourselves. The folly of that approach has been demonstrated, and I think with more than just abortion. The force of social reform coming out of the 1970s became far too dependent upon guarantees of legal, political or institutional power, far too dependent on a model of enforcement. At a distant remove, that’s what drove speech codes in universities: the mutating, growing belief that changing what people think, producing new consensus views, could be done through an enforcement model rather than through seeking persuasive dialogue with people unlike ourselves. Because persuasive dialogue exposes, requires concessions, is dangerously contingent in its outcomes.

That’s all high-toned talk. So let’s switch gears a little on Roe to practical matters. It’s pretty clear it’s going to be overturned sooner or later, either in total or as good as such.

So then what, if it’s just “horseshit” to talk about other political pathways to securing the right to choose for as many Americans as it can be secured for? Does the campaign for the right to choose in Ireland curl up and die because they don’t have Roe vs. Wade to begin with? You work with what you got. Go to the barricades for Roe if you like, but if you don’t have a Plan B, then don’t spit on the people who do. If you can’t tell me how you actually intend to keep Roe from being overturned beyond getting angry and demonstrating and all that, and you don’t want to talk about the political alternatives, how committed are you really to the right to choose or the wider right to privacy from which it derives?

Posted in Politics | 60 Comments