the madness of crowds

And If You Need a Little Heat In Your Face, That’s What I’m Here For

By in jests japes jokes jollies, the cult of multi, the great awokening, the madness of crowds No Comments

“So much of left-wing thought is a kind of playing with fire by people who don’t even know that fire is hot.”

— George Orwell, Inside the Whale

“I’m sorry for endorsing destruction of poor people’s housing. That was not my intention. If it were rich people’s property, that would be all right. Not mine, though. Stay out of Beverly Hills, you savages. Uh, you know what, here, let me just hand this over to my P.R. agent to finish up.”

“It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,” Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.”

― Shirley Jackson, The Lottery and Other Stories

Well, The Truth May Need Some Rearranging

By in extraordinary popular delusions, foolosophy, the madness of crowds, tribalism 4 Comments

This seems like an obvious truth itself. “This thing that appears good is actually bad, and vice-versa.” Countless examples from viral clickbait to Ph.D. theses have profitably used this formula. There’s an obvious incentive to portray oneself as a seer with unusual gifts of prophecy and insight. As Adam Smith noted in The Wealth of Nations, “men are fond of paradoxes, and of appearing to understand what surpasses the comprehension of ordinary people.” But Adam Smith elucidated one of the most profound paradoxes of modernity, that self-interest pursued within a functioning market economy actually produces more beneficial results all around than a traditional insistence on a straight line between virtuous thoughts and virtuous actions. Was he a member of the “intellectual clerisy” insulting the good, intuitive sense of the common man? Probably depends on whom you ask. Ironically, or paradoxically, many of the very same people who currently think reality is more “nuanced” when it comes to the spectacle of orgiastic violence and left-wing mob rule take the exact opposite perspective when an insight like Smith’s offends their bedrock moral sensibilities. Suddenly, things are exactly what they appear to be again, and how dare you try to hoodwink us with your intellectual sophistries!

Again, nothing new under the sun. Long before social science, aphorists and moralists noted that people often act first and rationalize later. This is a bipartisan, or rather pre-partisan, phenomenon. We decide what we want to do, then invent an after-the-fact justification for it, which can be changed as necessary. It feels intuitively —and satisfyingly — true to reduce people’s behavior to squalid motives. Many of the “protestors” we see smiling exultantly as they exit the shattered windows of a department store with armfuls of goods don’t appear to be too concerned about racial justice or long-term consequences. Many of the progressive media figures offering incoherent, contradictory apologetics for the rioting, as they bravely tweet their support for the destruction of black people’s jobs and neighborhoods from their gated communities in safe suburbs, are clearly displaying the pathetic self-loathing peculiar to the guilt-ridden privileged. And yet, many people who can grasp these obvious truths seem to have difficulty grasping that “the ends justify the means” is an amoral blade which maims the hands of anyone foolish enough to seize it. Truth is always obvious right up until the moment when it threatens to thwart my impulses.

Cynicism about all professed motives would appear to be justified. But undiluted cynicism seems like a moral base constructed on quicksand. Paradox seems to be a fundamental building block of reality.

In some sense, it seems obviously true that George Floyd’s death is identical to those of other black men killed by the police in recent years. And yet, it’s also true that each one of those cases involved completely unique individuals in completely different circumstances. There is a certain abstract similarity we can notice across them all, but it does not necessarily follow that they all blossom from one actual root. This is understandably frustrating for people who want to be able to uproot “racism” or “white supremacy” or “capitalism” and thus solve the problem of white cops using lethal force against unarmed black men in one stroke. No one wants to hear that life is endless Sisyphean maintenance of chores that are never finished. No one feels passionate about an endless game of Whac-a-Mole. Is it an obvious truth or a counter-intuitive one to tell people that in many ways, there is no “progress,” just the same basic challenges and weaknesses presenting themselves over and over again, a constant struggle against inevitable entropy?

My stepson and I talk occasionally about discipline. He occasionally gets discouraged with himself and complains about lacking discipline to be able to do this or that. I usually remind him that discipline isn’t really a noun, it’s a verb. It’s not a “thing” you “get” in order to be able to act; it is the act. It’s not a certification you achieve, after which you can safely forget everything you did to get there. It needs to be renewed constantly. If you stop using your muscles, they’ll wither. If you stop being disciplined toward a goal, your discipline withers. Berating yourself for lacking discipline in general is like berating your bicep for not growing even though you’re not using it. Pick a goal and work toward it. Try to work toward it a little more today than you did yesterday. Maybe in hindsight, you’ll look back and say, “Huh, look at what I did. Maybe I had some discipline after all.” But each day, in the moment, it will always look exactly the same. “I’m tired and I’m sore and I don’t want to!” No one is ever superhuman enough to become exempt from this. You’ll have that exact same conversation with yourself no matter how much you’ve accomplished before. All you can do is try to respond with, “Don’t quit yet. Just one more try. Just a few more minutes.” And when you fail and fall short, as you inevitably will, all you can do is get up and start again. That’s life, day after day.

Much of the rhetoric of grievance is rooted in the devilishly seductive logic of aggregate thinking. The reason why it’s currently considered acceptable to say bigoted things about white people, for example, is because white people, in general, are perceived to be “winning” in some aggregate sense. This seems obviously true in some way. White people, as a monolithic group, are considered to have the lion’s share of money, power, happiness, etc., if we grant the dubious assumption that such things can be meaningfully quantified and contained within a fixed-pie. But again, this is an abstraction that entails nothing useful in the real world where individuals and particulars are what matter, not intellectual categories. When rioters beat a white store owner to a pulp in the streets of Dallas, it does not “cancel out” any past beatings of black men by white racists. Individuals are not identical, interchangeable objects from an assembly line. There is no cosmic scoreboard on which the racial arrears have been reduced. We have not moved one step closer to a state of balance wherein no one will ever want to be cruel or vicious to anyone else again because everything is finally “equal.” It has only contributed to the endless back-and-forth of eye-for-an-eye retribution. Nothing could be simpler or more obvious than the truth that “two wrongs don’t make a right,” but there is no limit to the intellectual contortions people will go through in attempting to argue otherwise. Apologists will find nuance, of course, and claim that while lamentable, these things are still understandable (“inevitable” being sometimes strongly implied). Most things, however horrific, are understandable. They’re still failures, though. You still allowed yourself to believe in the shortcut that was too good to be true, and you failed as a result. This is also an obvious truth, but “obvious” is not the same thing as “easy.”

What a Strange Game. The Only Winning Move Is Not to Play.

By in antisocial media, notorious jbp, the madness of crowds, tribalism No Comments

On that note, two recent articles I noticed but refused to click on:

From a video that his daughter posted, I already knew that Peterson’s wife had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, and that the medications he was taking for his depression had caused him to suffer through physical dependence and withdrawal. What point is there in an article that adds nothing to this sad story but disgust at the spectacle of people behaving horribly on social media in reaction to it? If a writer simply wanted to express sympathy for Peterson, it would have been fairly easy to do. But that would lack spice. It wouldn’t have the necessary frisson of righteous anger. For that, we need to add, “And look at all these horrible people gloating over his suffering. Look at this tasteless comment in particular. Remember, these people are on the Other Side. That’s the sort of degenerate character they have over there.” That’s what gets the clicks, and that’s what guarantees a steady supply of more of the same. Rush Limbaugh’s recent lung cancer diagnosis brought more of the same gloating, which was amplified and magnified even more by people who were appalled by it. It’s ironic to see people on social media worrying about the slim possibility of contracting coronavirus while not thinking twice before passing along intellectual bacteria like this. Another, even better, irony is that if social media were to be “saved,” it would have to find a way to incentivize not antisocial but asocial behavior — people who couldn’t care less about site stats, follower counts, clicks, likes, and retweets. Writing for money, performing for attention — these are the livestock chutes which funnel the content-providing cattle toward the inevitable lowest common denominator.

This Democratical Hurricane, Inundation, Earthquake, Pestilence, Call It What You Will

By in crime and punishment, political philosophy, revillaging, the great awokening, the madness of crowds 3 Comments

Count de Monet: It is said that the people are revolting.

King Louis XVI: You said it! They stink on ice!

Aaron Freedman:

This sentiment is more than just petty contrarianism. Apply it in the real world, and it becomes clear that contempt for cancel culture is little more than contempt for democracy.

After all, what is derided as “cancel culture” is nothing more than a large group of people choosing who and what they want to watch, read and listen to. Though “canceling” on its own suggests the work of the anonymous censor or autocratic TV exec, “cancel culture” reflects the opposite: the public and democratic engagement of ordinary people.

By the standards of sophistry, this is on the same low level as “political correctness just means being considerate and polite,” which is to say, hardly worth the strain of an eye-roll. But anyway, since we’re on the subject, ancient Athens used to practice a form of cancel culture. They called it ostracism. Many people might be familiar with Plutarch’s story of Aristides, who was approached by an illiterate voter looking to cast his vote for a candidate for ostracism and asked to write down the name…Aristides. Uh, what harm has Aristides done to you? he asked, understandably. None at all, replied the man of the people. I don’t even know him. I’m just sick of people always calling him “Aristides the Just.” Twenty-five hundred years later, and people’s careers and personal lives are ruined on social media for equally facile, spiteful reasons.

Safe to say Plutarch and Aristides were wiser men with a keener understanding of the nasty tendencies of human character than Mr. Freedman. And while I don’t want to be here all day naming other examples of men with more brains and psychological insight than some smug junior-varsity Jacobin writing opinion pieces in the Washington Post, John Adams deserves a mention. He also held ostracism in contempt. “History nowhere furnishes so frank a confession of the people themselves, of their own infirmities and unfitness for managing the executive branch of government, or an unbalanced share of the legislature, as this institution.” He wasn’t too enamored of “the public and democratic engagement of ordinary people” either:

Dear Sir
In your fifth page You Say “Mr. Adams calls our Attention to hundreds of wise and virtuous Patricians, mangled and bleeding Victims of popular Fury.” and gravely counts up several Victims of democratic Rage as proofs that Democracy is more pernicious than Monarchy or Aristocracy.” Is this fair, sir? Do you deny any one of my Facts? I do not say that Democracy has been more pernicious, on the whole, and in the long run, than Monarchy or Aristocracy. Democracy has never been and never can be so durable as Aristocracy or Monarchy. But while it lasts it is more bloody than either.

…You Say I “might have exhibited millions of Plebians, sacrificed to the pride Folly and Ambition of Monarchy and Aristocracy.” This is very true. And I might hav[e] exhibited as many millions of Plebians sacrificed by the Pride Folly and Ambition of their fellow Plebians and their own, in proportion to the extent and duration of their power. Remember Democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes exhausts and murders itself. There never was a Democracy Yet, that did not commit suicide. It is in vain to Say that Democracy is less vain, less proud, less selfish, less ambitious or less avaricious than Aristocracy or Monarchy. It is not true in Fact and no where appears in history. Those Passions are the same in all Men under all forms of Simple Government, and when unchecked, produce the same Effects of Fraud Violence and Cruelty. When clear Prospects are opened before Vanity, Pride, Avarice or Ambition, for their easy gratification, it is hard for the most considerate Phylosophers and the most conscientious Moralists to resist the temptation. Individuals have conquered themselves, Nations and large Bodies of Men, never.

Freedman makes it sound like a simple, rational process. Nothing but friendly persuasion and free choice involved, right? But as Adams would instantly recognize were he around today, the easy gratification of vanity, pride, avarice and ambition play a dominant role in determining who gets canceled, and the mob’s appetite is insatiable. Contempt for democracy? Damn straight. Have you ever met the demos? Wherever two or three people gather in its name, stupidity and mischief will be there with them.

Deep In Thought I Forgive Everyone

By in books, crime and punishment, revillaging, the geist of the zeit, the madness of crowds No Comments

Before the advent of the internet, people’s mistakes could be remembered within their communities or circles. Then being able to start a new life somewhere else in the world was at least a possibility. Today, people may be followed by their doppelgänger wherever they go in the world. And even after death the excavation and tomb-raiding will go on, not in a spirit of enquiry or forgiveness but in one of retribution and vengeance. At the heart of which attitude lies the strange retributive instinct of our time towards the past which suggests that we know ourselves to be better than people in history because we know how they behaved and we know that we would have behaved better. There is a gigantic modern fallacy at work here. For of course people only think that they would have acted better in history because they know how history ended up. People in history didn’t — and don’t — have that luxury. They made good or bad choices in the times and places they were in, given the situations and shibboleths that they found themselves with.

To view the past with some degree of forgiveness is among other things an early request to be forgiven — or at least understood — in turn. Because not everything we are doing or intend to do now will necessarily survive the whirlwind of retribution and judgment. Can such an attitude of forgiveness be applied to the personal as well as the historical? To the people going through history with us?

— Douglas Murray, The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity

There’s also a good interview with Murray here.

Ancient Forms of Party Strife

By in books, the madness of crowds, the statusphere No Comments

Consider, for example, the enormous social difference between an American who embraces Communism and one who embraces Nazism. One of these is a tolerated eccentricity, and one of them is the lowest thing you can be…The real difference between an American Communist and an American Nazi is that American Communists historically have been intellectuals and American Nazis have been rednecks.

— Kevin D. Williamson, The Smallest Minority: Independent Thinking in the Age of Mob Politics

It’s one of those things that I already knew, but I hadn’t thought of in precisely that way, so the succinctness made me laugh. Mark Forsyth, in his book The Etymologicon: A Circular Stroll Through the Hidden Connections of the English Language, makes a similar claim about the original Nazis:

It’s a funny thing, but Hitler wouldn’t have called himself a Nazi. Indeed, he became quite offended when anyone did suggest he was a Nazi. He would have considered himself a National Socialist. Nazi is, and always has been, an insult.

Hitler was head of the catchily named Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (National Socialist German Workers’ Party). But, like the Cambridge University Netball Team, he hadn’t thought through the name properly. You see, his opponents realised that you could shorten Nationalsozialistische to Nazi. Why would they do this? Because Nazi was already an (utterly unrelated) term of abuse. It had been for years.

Every culture has a butt for its jokes. Americans have the Polacks, the English have the Irish, and the Irish have people from Cork. The standard butt of German jokes at the beginning of the twentieth century were stupid Bavarian peasants. And just as Irish jokes always involve a man called Paddy, so Bavarian jokes always involved a peasant called Nazi. That’s because Nazi was a shortening of the very common Bavarian name Ignatius.

This meant that Hitler’s opponents had an open goal. He had a party filled with Bavarian hicks and the name of that party could be shortened to the standard joke name for hicks. (Incidentally, hick was formed in exactly the same way as Nazi. Hick was a rural shortening of Richard and became a byword for uneducated farmers.)

Imagine if a right-winger from Alabama started a campaign called Red States for the Next America. That’s essentially what Hitler did.

That sounds almost too good to be true, especially as I’ve never heard this claim anywhere else. But either way, it speaks to the obvious truth of the omnipresent divide between urban and rural, sophisticated and rustic, educated and common-sense. We’re used to thinking this way in terms of consumption patterns — early-adopted gadgets and trends become uncool as soon as they become too popular, and the avant-garde head off in the opposite direction to spite the herd. Backyard breeders and puppy mills are concerned with papers and lineage; the conspicuously-compassionate start adopting rescuing mutts from shelters. Trailer parks are the ultimate low-status household; affluent anti-consumers rebrand them as “tiny house communities.” Now that any troglodyte can afford a smartphone, the upper-class are all about screen-free living. It’s easy to get the impression that social life is one endless game of musical chairs, in which the joy is to laugh at the yokels and bumpkins who are too slow to grab a seat in time. I just find it darkly amusing to see the same frivolous dynamic at work in the realm of “serious” matters like politics. “Oh, yeah, I was really into one-party rule, contempt for liberal democracy, and mass murder of political opponents and other undesirables. Those early releases, from around 1917-1924, were so good. But then around 1933, they, like, sold out and went mainstream, and all these beer-swilling Ignatius-bros started coming to the shows…”

He Fought the Mob and the Mob Lost

By in the madness of crowds, tribalism No Comments

It’s heartening to see that Roger Scruton has been reinstated to his architectural advisory position after Douglas Murray, among others, made such a tireless effort to expose the dishonesty of the “journalist” and the newspaper that got him fired last year. For an amusing cherry on top, the cowardly conservative MP who fired Scruton without even pausing to consider whether the outrage mob was justified or not has lost his own position in the recent cabinet shake-ups. Sometimes, in a world of idiotic mob rule, good people achieve tiny victories. Not all is lost.

In celebration, let’s revisit some of Sir Roger’s most artful and delightful prose aimed at leftist scoundrels and frauds. Savor the metaphors, relish the similes, luxuriate in the bubbly rhetoric. I can only hope to one day be able to turn a similar phrase with my own limited abilities.

Some Useless Information Supposed to Fire My Imagination

By in foolosophy, the madness of crowds No Comments

This state of moral and spiritual provisionality can be fairly unnerving, since it becomes clear how utterly temporary and groping all our most important judgements must be. Perhaps it is fear of this that leads so many people to think that the sign of a thoughtful mind is that it is well stocked with clear opinions on everything important: a view that I cannot but think of as a fiction and an expression of anxiety about how things really are.

— Christopher Hamilton, Middle Age

Several years ago, in the spirit of Montaigne’s skepticism, I rededicated myself to contemplating the basic question, “What do I know, really?” Like Socrates, but without the irony, I had to conclude, “Not much.” Long before Marie Kondo became trendy, I rummaged through the contents of my skull and decided that none of the sociopolitical clutter in there sparked joy. I grew disgusted with my own ability to maintain an appearance of being reasonably well-informed and threw all those flimsy garments in the trash, vowing to go around silently in a monk’s habit of honest ignorance. I’m interested in many things — many more than I’ll ever have time to fully explore, in fact. But that interest rarely leads to certainty. Quite the opposite.

The same people who sneer at consumerism and escapist entertainment and criticize the masses for foolishly pursuing happiness by way of material possessions think that having a mind well-stocked with clear opinions on current events is a sign of sophistication. Some people collect Franklin Mint tchotchkes, others stockpile convictions about public figures and events which they can never hope to influence. Some people line up outside Walmart the night before Black Friday to jockey and jostle over toys and flat-screen TVs, others flock to breaking news hashtags to line up and verbally assault strangers. One group takes itself far more seriously than the other.

I’m proud to say that I have never read a single article about the Trump/Russia brouhaha. I’d been aware of it, of course, in the same way that living in a college town means you can’t help but be aware of a football game going on, what with all the increased traffic, team pennants flapping from car windows, and the dull roar issuing from downtown where the stadium sits. When the Mueller investigation news broke last Friday, I was surprised. Again, not because I was interested or invested in it one way or the other, but because even I had vaguely assumed that with all the dense clouds of smoke wafting over the web these last couple years, there would probably be some sort of collusion fire discovered eventually. Understand, I go out of my way to avoid coming into contact with anyone online who gives off the slightest hint of #resistance! mania, and still I took it for granted that the popular narrative couldn’t be entirely a delusive product of wishful thinking. The progressive media bubble apparently extends much further than I’d suspected.

At any rate, I spent a little while clicking through various Twitter accounts of those to whom this news was a very big deal. It was like being in a foreign country. Not just because of the asinine, self-referential Twitter slang (which was bad enough, making even serious issues sound adolescent), but because of all the names and events being referenced that had no meaning to me whatsoever. For a moment, I considered how many hours, or days, of my life it would have required to be conversant in all of this, and for what? What possible difference would it have made, other than keeping me in a constant simmer of anxiety and anger? Would I have been called upon to make an epoch-defining speech, or cast a decisive vote? It’s such a strange conceit, this belief that our civic duty requires us to pay close attention to events far beyond our personal control, as if the arc of the moral universe is a spoon we can bend toward justice with the concentrated power of our enlightened minds. Most of us have more than enough work to do in our immediate vicinity, in being better spouses, parents, and friends, but as usual, we’d rather choose abstractions and distractions.

Out, Damn’d Spot!

By in antisocial media, revillaging, technology, the geist of the zeit, the great awokening, the madness of crowds No Comments

Brendan O’Neill:

That Neeson’s expression of regret for his past thoughts counts for nothing in the eyes of the new morality police is striking, and worrying. It points to a streak of very anti-human fatalism in the Twittermobbing phenomenon. The new witch-hunters are not in the business of forgiving people — even people who confess to their one-time horribleness — because they fundamentally believe that people cannot change. That if you once had a racist thought you will always be racist. That if you made a homophobic joke ten years ago, you will be a homophobe forever. This is why they engage in the low pursuit of ‘offense archaeology’, as the journalist Freddie de Boer described the trend for poring over public figures’ every past statement and deed in search of something nasty or embarrassing that might be used against said public figure today — because they think people do not change, that their wickedness is ingrained, that they suffer from original sin and it cannot be washed away.

Intellectuals will always, always overvalue the need for theory, but again, there’s no need to ferret out philosophical convictions which likely don’t even exist. The “new witch-hunters” don’t have a robust theory of human nature underlying their actions; they’re motivated by the same base incentives and cynical calculations as ever. Liam Neeson is more valuable to them as a target of their insatiable spite than he is as a political ally. Or, to put it another way, all he is to the Twittermob is an entertainer. The entertainment might entail watching him star in a movie, or it might entail trying to destroy his reputation and career just because they can. Social media is the insane, decadent emperor, and we’re all gladiators competing for its amusement. Apparently Neeson’s latest performance has gotten the thumbs-down. So it goes.

We’re living in an age of social norms being in flux. Many would say t’was ever thus, but I’m specifically talking about the sort of flux facilitated by the rapid expansion of personal technology. Let’s recall that smartphones and social media have only been ubiquitous for ten years, if even that long. The effects, however, have clearly been profound and widespread. For our narrow focus here — namely, the birth of a vanguard of Javerts who specialize in public shaming and mob behavior — it’s enough to note the leveling effect whereby a resentful nobody with too much spare time can now easily attack and humiliate a celebrity. Imagine what a rush it must be to see someone famous or powerful having to grovel and apologize because of something you found and publicized from their social media history. Imagine what a heady feeling it would be to be part of a news story, mentioned in the same sentence with your formerly-exalted victim. If Nietzsche were here, he would instantly recognize it for what it is — a flexing of muscles, a testing of strength, an indulgence of all sorts of normally-forbidden urges as people, free from the old norms and hierarchies, recognize a newly-opened path to status and influence and set about exploring the boundaries. New norms are still evolving, but it will be a while before there are any widely-accepted rules about how to behave on this electronic frontier. It’s a tale of two Williams — Golding was much more percipient than Godwin about what is likely to happen in the anarchic interlude between the decay of old mores and the birth of new ones.

Still, not all of the mob behavior is attributable to a new breed of resentful revolutionaries practicing the same old cutthroat political maneuvering. There’s also a different primal reaction that plays a significant role. Some of the critiques of social-justice fanaticism talk about the concept of moral pollution. The reaction to Neeson’s story of attempted vigilante vengeance was visceral, not philosophical. The absolute refusal to countenance any ambiguity resembles a moral germophobia, a reflexive desire to avoid contamination. The easiest way to stay safe is to culturally quarantine all the bad people with their bad thoughts so they can’t infect the rest of us. It would be useless to explain that you can’t catch racism by sympathizing with a man telling a story of being enraged beyond reason by the rape of his friend. They’re too busy frantically washing their hands for the hundredth time today to entertain any nuance.

Perhaps next time in amateur sociology hour, we’ll consider whether the dramatic increase in diagnoses of Asperger’s and autism has any correlation with this widespread social maladaptation and inability to process ambiguity. Also, Marie Kondo: symbol of the zeitgeist? Maybe the trend of denouncing and renouncing the Four Olds (or the Four Unwokes?) is just a political form of decluttering.

What Is Made By Humans Now Must Be Undone

By in environment, moralizing, the geist of the zeit, the madness of crowds No Comments

Jonah Goldberg:

There are a lot of different views on climate change on the right. (I myself am mostly in the Matt Ridley “lukewarmer” camp.) But he ignores all of the competing views in favor of an argument that amounts to little more than fan service for liberal readers. One can believe that climate change is a real concern, with some legitimate science on its side, while also believing there is a range of available policy options that do not conform to the liberal party line and declining to act in a spirit of righteous panic. (Noah Rothman notes how the enlightened position on climate change must always be even more “hysteria.”)

I have dogmatic family members who typically take the talk-radio party line on the political issue du jour. You know the type — they greet every snow flurry with triumphant cackling and a hearty chorus of SCREW YOU AL GORE. It’s probably fair to call them “deniers,” since their positions are usually reflexively determined by whatever they perceive to be the official stance of liberal elites. But the Lady of the House has a cousin, a geologist, who visited us at the beginning of the month. While we were hiking, she succinctly summarized her view on climate change: “Is it happening? Yes. Is human activity contributing to it? Most likely. Is there anything we can realistically do about it? Probably not.” She’s not actually a conservative, but among the conservatives I read and talk to, I find that to be a fairly typical view. One of them had a useful rule of thumb for weeding out the cranks — if they’re opposed to fossil fuels but refuse to even countenance the idea of nuclear power, they’re not serious enough to bother with. It may well be that I’m just inclined to hear what I want to hear, but I find the stoic pragmatism and lack of hysteria refreshing. As Auden said, we are changed by what we change. We’ll adapt, or we won’t, but when has that ever not been the case?

The received left-wing wisdom, by contrast — well, it’s usually facile to compare various beliefs and behaviors to religion, but in the case of climate change, I’m not sure what else to call it. As I mentioned before, I check in with The Week as part of my daily bookmark routine, to keep tabs on what the somewhat-sane left is talking about, and I’ve been amused to see the resident fire-and-brimstone fundamentalist Ryan Cooper pounding the pulpit recently. “Climate change is going to fry your state,” he thundered toward a heretical Utah senator. “Wealth cannot save you from climate change,” he warned us in the prior week’s sermon. Sinners in the hands of an angry Gaia, indeed. But for the clearest, most painstaking demonstration of how so much green activism is nothing but a surrogate outlet for moral evangelism, you can’t do better than read Peter Dorman’s steamrolling of Naomi Klein’s recent spasm of righteousness posing as a book, This Changes Everything. If this were a boxing match, it would have been stopped after the first few paragraphs.

I don’t have any strong views on climate change, but what I find most interesting and amusing is the idea that I should, like it’s a dereliction of my duty as a citizen to avoid pronouncing on events that I can’t influence. I couldn’t be more ordinary and anonymous. What practical use could I possibly make of a doctrinaire opinion? Too many people seem convinced that a diploma and an advantageous upbringing qualify them to serve as volunteer policymakers and amateur heads of state. I think I’d like it better if they devoted that time and energy to church activities.

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