In this post, I risk being labeled as disagreeable. But I don’t think John has really responded to the gist of what I was saying—which wasn’t about Republican obstructionism or the mystery of Democrat inadequacies. It was about something bigger.
Let me take a step back—since we’re about to have a chat about secularism in a few days. One version of secularism asserts that, without religion, there are no timeless truths. And this is a good thing: grown-ups, we can deal with the fact that we make things up. Still, almost all secularists, and certainly pragmatists, believe in “truths”—that is, moral values that guide our behavior, whether personal or political. I’m not sure John will agree, but I think there’s a tension here that requires a secularist of this kind to keep two thoughts in mind at once: (1) there’s nothing objectively true about a moral viewpoint, and (2) each of us naturally and passionately holds moral views. In other words, secularism doesn’t erase moral discourse. But it’s important to remember that—whatever our moral views—our most fundamental adherence is to the idea of contingency. That is, the real danger is that moral discourse might be limited—by timeless notions of right and wrong, or by those who wish to stack the deck. Disagreeing over moral values is one thing; being voiceless, or considered so, is another.
Let me draw the parallel. In terms of America and our ongoing discussion of social democracy, disagreeing on political remedies is one thing; political disenfranchisement is another. John agrees about the problem of the foxes running the henhouse, but I fear that he has notions of good foxes and bad foxes: the Republicans are the problem, and it’s a “mystery” why we don’t hear a more spirited response from the Democrats. I’m wondering if it’s really such a mystery. I doubt whether it’s “the current scorched earth obstructionism of the Republican party” that’s responsible for keeping problems “off the table,” as John puts it. Is Republican obstructionism really what limits the discussion? Are we to think that Obama’s view on health care is a function of the Republicans (and not, say, the insurance companies)? Would Obama not believe in American exceptionalism, or not give assent to targeted assassinations, if only the Republicans weren’t so damn bad?
“What’s wrong with Obama?” or “What’s wrong with the Democrats?”—these don’t seem the right questions. Being baffled, I fear, is just a way of side-stepping the real problem. For someone with dual allegiances—toward democratic principles, toward specific political ideals—the first step should be to ask whether the overall system is working, whether voices are being heard. A critic might accuse me of sour grapes: “You’re losing the political battle, and so now you’re wondering whether the game is rigged.” Maybe. And, as John stated, there’s no certainty that a true American democracy, minus the foxes, might yield anything different. Maybe folks like the idea of American exceptionalism; maybe folks think that people should pay for their own health care in the same way they pay for maintenance of their automobiles. I have no idea. Or John may be right to be less than pessimistic about the possibilities for the future of the country, based on the gains of the past. I’m probably being somewhat blind to the historical ups-and-downs of American politics. Or maybe John and I have different politics, different values, even if we share pragmatic sensibilities. But I’m wondering whether we too easily assume that those pragmatic sensibilities are shared; that is, I wonder whether an empty rhetoric of democracy is currently a hindrance to democracy. If so, then we have a big problem, and it’s got nothing much to do with greedy Republicans.
hayesmcgowan 