Thought Experiment No. 1
Imagine a baseball stadium. Fill it with twenty thousand Americans. Require Democrats to wear blue and Republicans red. At a podium at second base, have a person make a speech about, say, immigration.
Soon enough, fights break out.
Rewind.
Same twenty thousand people. Let them dress however they like. Instead of the speechmaking guy, put two baseball teams out there. Instantly, it’s a different energy. Among the fans for Team One will be both liberals and conservatives, suddenly united in common cause. Ditto Team Two. There will be disagreements, sure, but because we’ve been taught about acceptable baseball-game discourse, these will tend to be relatively good-natured.
Questions for Discussion:
Regarding the first example:
Who put out the order to wear red or blue?
Who dragged that podium out there?
Who selected the topic? And from what list?
Is it possible that “politics” has come to mean arguing percussively about a short list of pre-approved topics (immigration, abortion, cancel culture, etc.), these topics having been provided, somehow, by (let’s say) certain distant powers, who have also provided a rigid framework within which to discuss them, a framework designed not to solve anything but to insure perpetual disagreement, with agitation as the goal, agitation being, let’s face it, a big money-maker?
Thought Experiment No. 2
Seat four Democrats and four Republicans around a charming local conference table somewhere in the heart of the heart of the country. (Put one of those golden American maples out the window, and every now and then have an autumn leaf fall off it.) They are a town council. Their topic is potholes. There are five thousand dollars’ worth of potholes in town, but the council has only three thousand in the pothole-repair budget.
Those eight people are trying to solve a specific problem. Which potholes can be left unfilled? Well, which are the biggest? Shouldn’t we take care of that one in front of the hospital? These three, on that road on the outskirts of town, where nobody ever goes, are going to have to wait.
The discussion is not theoretical but practical. (What is the leftist opinion on potholes, anyway, or the MAGA view?) This is problem-solving, something we Americans are good at (or at least think we are). Most people, of either party, know a pragmatic solution when they see one, especially if they’ve been working on the problem and have some idea of the costs, choices, and sacrifices required to solve it.
What may result among this group of people is something like fondness.
We, the Pothole Eight, will have come through the wars together. We’ll enjoy scoffing together re. the laughable critiques of our work coming in from the ill-informed populace. Maybe we’ll feel a little proud of what we’ve accomplished. Sometimes, when driving, I’ll spot a big new pothole and I’ll call Murray, my friend from the council, who may be a Republican, but, honestly, I don’t care. I just want to tell him about that big honker pothole.
Questions for Discussion:
What, or who, is making us dislike one another so much?
Might it be that one reason we’re feeling sick right now is that our natural desire to be fond of one another is being thwarted by distant, profit-based forces?
Thought Experiment No. 3
Imagine you are about to have a political argument with a close friend or family member. You are on opposing sides of the left-right rift. You have had this discussion many times before.
Many times.
Questions for Discussion:
Doesn’t it sometimes feel that it would be simpler if you each just brought over a small TV and left it running in the kitchen, tuned to your respective network, while the two of you went into the yard and talked about something about which you possess some original knowledge? Once you’re out there, talking like that, won’t it be nice to feel your pre-formed “political” carapaces drop away? And won’t it be discouraging and alarming when, as soon as one of you slips up and utters a triggering word or phrase (“immigrant” or “Trump” or “politically correct” or “eating cats and dogs,” for example), you veer back into your canned “political” jargon, like actors suddenly aware that the scripts you’ve been given must, at all costs, be honored?
In that moment, as the two of you stand there like Rock ’Em Sock ’Em robots, beating up on each other with someone else’s phrases, looking, often, a little sad, even ashamed, who is speaking through you?
Thought Experiment No. 4
Imagine a simple, pastoral predecessor of ours, walking around, club in hand, smelling the flowers.
That caveperson’s ability to construct opinions on the basis of mental projection is what allows him to survive. This is true for us, too.
But we’re getting a lot more information than he was, information of a peculiar sort, information that is powerful, and has been constructed far away, by people with agendas. It’s being delivered invisibly, in a way that gives us a deep sense of belonging. It’s addictive. It’s overwhelming. It comes pouring unmediated into the brain, essentially the same brain that Mr. Flower Sniffer walked around with, and, like a stomach designed for nuts and fruit suddenly faced with a TripleFlame Macaroni & Lard Burger, that brain starts having, well, digestive issues, but gives it a good try anyway.
Questions for Discussion:
