Clubbiness (me and the Oklahoma frat boys)

The overtly racist chants of fraternity brothers at the University of Oklahoma have drawn national outrage. They certainly show that abhorrent attitudes are still around. But they also show something deeper: they reveal the way in which communities turn ugly. It's a dynamic that is not just out there in strange places -- it can easily lead anyone, including you and me, to the edge of nastiness.

Living in an East coast suburb, I often hear people sitting around with their friends talking about the stupidity of Tea Partiers. If I was in other towns I might be hearing groups talk about the arrogance and dishonesty of the Eastern elites. We're all really no different from the frat boys. We're all acting clubby: making ourselves feel good by putting down those we don't agree with, looking to our friends for reinforcement ("Yeah, you're right! They are jerks!"). Few of us make the effort to understand why they feel the way they do, to listen, possibly even to learn.

We all like clubs. They are the kind of community we long for: warm, close, supportive, personal. But in a diverse environment they're not so great: they divide us, let us get away with being lazy and self-righteous. We need another way to build communities.

Humiliation

The New York Times has a headline: “Language of Greek Crisis Shifts From Financial Jargon to Humiliation”.

This is where things get dangerous. We like to think of ourselves as reasonable beings. But feelings of humiliation are much more powerful than reason: they drive people to suicide and murder, they are the fuel of wars. Hitler played on the sense of humiliation in interwar Germany; Putin is playing on it in Russia today.

The spread of economic interdependence sometimes bridges these divisions. We speak of “swallowing our pride” in order to make a deal. But when the beast of humiliation is loosed, when people no longer swallow their pride, terrible and cascading dynamics follow. Reason is jettisoned: the Greeks are talking about demanding reparations from World War II, the Germans are replying with accusations about Alexander the Great. Crowds form, reinforcing a sense of grievance and of communal unity. To relieve the sense of humiliation and the taint of moral accusation, the accusers are cast as enemies and monsters.

This has happened many times before. We should not forget that the period before World War I was one of great economic globalization and trade, but degenerated rapidly into vicious warfare.

We know how to avoid humiliation: through listening, respect, dialogue. Let’s try it.

I don't understand Justice Moore. What's wrong with me?

Roy Moore, the Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court, defies the legal decisions in favor of gay marriage, claiming that he is not bound by them, telling local judges to ignore them. This is the same judge who some years ago refused orders to remove Biblical tablets from the courthouse.

What’s wrong with him? Is he evil, or just an idiot? The law is clear – he may disagree with the Federal decisions, but he and the probate judges are bound by them. More importantly, the vast majority of the country (according to polls) accepts gay marriage, sees it as something personal, not something the courts and the police should get involved with. I don’t get what he’s trying to do.

On the other hand, what’s wrong with me? I believe we should strive to understand people who are different from us. I seem to be failing at that with Justice Moore.

Come to think of it, he's probably neither evil nor an idiot. There’s absolutely no evidence that he’s corrupt, and he’s not trying to harm anyone. He’s not even intolerant: he’s not advocating arrests or suppression of gays. He just wants them to stay out of his face.

Maybe he’s just trying to protect a good society, as he sees it, one where everyone is secure, where you know what to expect, where everyone knows the right thing to do and acts together in harmony. He’s defending it against people who want to disrupt, to sow discord, to plant foreign ideas, and thus to undermine the solid foundations of community and identity. They threaten his world, and he knows no good can come of it. And the people around him agree: they re-elected him to the state Supreme Court after he had been removed from it over the tablets battle.

Moore might say, with Shakespeare: 

The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre

Observe degree, priority and place,

… but when the planets

In evil mixture to disorder wander,

What plagues and what portents! what mutiny!

What raging of the sea! shaking of earth!

Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors…[1]

For Moore, gay marriage is a threat not only to who he is, but to the identities of everyone he knows, and their relations, and their hopes for the future. "Frights, changes, horrors..." No wonder he fights so hard.

At least I think that’s what he thinks. But until we have a different kind of conversation, we won’t really know, will we?

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[1] Troilus and Cressida