In praise of both-sidesism
Stop. Read this before you yell at me, please.
I believe in both-sidesism.
That's not a popular thing to say in left-of-center politics right now, and I consider myself left-of-center if not fully progressive — my beliefs on issues of social welfare, race, gender and sexuality and war all place me on the west side of the spectrum.
But I don't always argue those things as ardently as some of my friends on the left. Indeed, I ran into a buddy at the coffee shop the other day -- a subscriber to this newsletter, hi Josh! -- who told me that I was right to point out the way a 10-year-old girl had been bandied about as a political object, but maybe I should've made the point that the right is so much worse.
And I think he's right.
But there are a million different people who were making that point already.
So let me tell you a little something about my approach, and why I write about some of these issues the way I do. There are three relevant things going on here:
* My background. I grew up in a conservative, Christian small town, and went to a conservative, Christian small college. It's fair to say I don't share a lot of major values with the people I came of age with -- but, to a remarkable degree, I still very much love and care about those people. They're trying to do the best they can, just like we all are, even if I think they're massively wrong about a few things. They think the same about me. The truth is, though, when I write I think about those folks and whether they might be reading me. I don't have to agree with them, but I do want to be fair to them.
There's also the fact that I came up as a newspaper reporter, not a political activist. For a few years, that meant making every effort to put my own opinions aside and listen to people on all sides of a story. To do my job well meant I had to listen to and truthfully convey, and try as best as I possibly could, people whose perspectives were at wide variance with my own. There are limits to that approach, obviously, as we've seen in recent years. But that environment shaped me, and I also think it has some uses.
* My fears. I think conservative movement is dangerous right now -- anti-democratic, chauvinist and xenophobic, given to cultishness around Donald Trump. The biggest problems in American life right now are coming from the right. Josh is correct!
However. While I think the left is a lot better on the substance of most issues, I don't think that it's immune to the problems of anti-democratic, cultish behavior, or to the problems of passing on and amplifying misinformation that makes us feel good and the other side look bad. That's not an ideological problem: It's a human problem. And it's one I want to be on guard against. So that makes me cautious sometimes.
* My limitations. I think I'm right about stuff. But I'm probably wrong about a few things. And I don't know what those things are -- either because of blind spots or because of some other reasons!
As I said recently:
Punditry often involves the appearance of certainty. Sometimes that’s warranted. Sometimes not. And sometimes it means putting an elbow to other people’s real concerns and feelings about the issues of the day. I’ve tried to be humane and humble as a writer, to see the world beyond my own limited perspective while still advocating for what I think is right and criticizing what I think is wrong. I know I have often failed. But I still believe the aspiration is worthy. And I’m beyond grateful to have had the opportunity.
Or, as I told an editor today: I struggle all the time with trying to enact a certain model of having a point of view but also embracing gracious, generous dialogue -- and the hard limits of that model in what amounts to real life right now.
This is why I write the way I write. This approach isn't for everybody. In fact, maybe it's not even the approach everybody can or should take. For now, it's the way I try to make sure that I don't lose sight of people, of humanity. Otherwise, I’m just more of the same.
Today’s recommendation
Not perfect. But great dialogue and some great actors.
This is a good personal policy for a journal to have, for sure! And in an environment where one is writing to a diverse audience where both side have differing opinions in good faith, it's of course good to report on and know the full spectrum of the discussion and discourse.
The current of anti-both-sidesism that runs through the left-of-center folks right now, though, isn't a rejection of reporting like the above (though that's not to say there isn't a tic on leftist Twitter of decrying any form of both-sidesisms); it's a rejection of major publications--like the NYT--clinging to an ardent centrism that, by the very nature of centrism itself, is being drug further to the right along with the acceptable discourse, all in the name of avoiding being seen as biased by those on the right.
This centrism-at-any-cost mentality forces publications like the Times to frame Lefist excesses as comparable to Rightist excesses; in most cases, that is not the objective reality of the situation. The irony in this is that centrism-at-any-cost is meant to burnish a publication's objective credentials, but it often does the opposite.