Michael Chwe: Can democracy be saved by those who have been historically excluded?

Election 2016

by Michael Suk-Young Chwe

If only whites could vote, or only men could vote, Donald Trump would be elected president. The people we rely upon to save democracy are exactly those people whom the United States historically excluded: women and people of color.

Women and people of color have been fighting all these years not just for inclusion in U.S. democracy, but for democracy itself, it turns out. Trump’s candidacy is evidence that the project of Western liberal democracy is not self-sustaining; the ethnic and gender group that claims to have originated it has been unable to maintain consensus around its ideals, and must be bailed out by newcomers who actually take those ideals seriously. Women and people of color have been reluctantly invited to a storied and elegant social engagement, only to have to clean up after the hosts trashing the place.

Only since 2008 has our country’s choice of president differed from the choice of a majority or near-majority of white voters. In 1976 Jimmy Carter won 47 percent of the white vote compared with Gerald Ford’s 52 percent, and in 1992 Bill Clinton won 39 percent of the white vote compared with George H. W. Bush’s 40 percent (the remaining 20 percent of the white vote went to Ross Perot). In all other elections from 1972 to 2004, the candidate who won the white vote won the presidency. However, in 2008 Obama won 43 percent of the white vote compared with McCain’s 55 percent, and in 2012 Obama won only 39 percent of the white vote compared with Romney’s 59 percent.

White men have consistently voted Republican since 1972. When has their favored candidate lost? In 1976, 47 percent of white men voted for Carter and 51 percent voted for Ford, a 4 point “gap.” In 1992, Clinton won 37 percent of the white male vote compared to Bush’s 40 percent, a 3 point gap. In 1996, Clinton won 38 percent of the white male vote compared to Dole’s 49 percent, a much larger 11 point gap. In 2008, Obama won 41 percent of the white male vote compared to McCain’s 57 percent, a 16 point gap. In 2012, Obama won only 35 percent of the white male vote compared to Romney’s 62 percent, a 27 point gap. If only white men could vote, Romney would have been elected in a landslide. But the US elected Obama. As the population of color grows, and the power of women only increases, white men become less important.

How will whites, especially white men, adapt to the new demographic reality: gracefully, petulantly, or destructively? Even ostensibly liberal whites (for example Academy Awards voters, who are overwhelmingly white and male) will have to make changes far outside their previous experience. For example, the relatively liberal Bernie Sanders campaign never tried very hard to reach black voters and focused on working-class whites, an error which should have been obvious. Perhaps the U.S. avoids confronting global warming because of deeply-ingrained American consumer habits. But the U.S. has been led by white men longer than it has been a consumer society.

In a democracy, your goal is to get more votes than your opponents. So if you must offend one group in order to ingratiate yourself to another group, you should try to offend a small group. When Romney famously remarked in a private fundraiser that he was not going to “worry about” 47 percent of the U.S .electorate, what surprised me was not his callousness but his apparent belief that 47 percent was a small number. Maybe you can write off 10 percent of the population, but if you write off 47 percent, you have to win almost all of the 53 percent remaining to win a majority.

Trump insults very large groups such as women, Latinos, and veterans; indeed there are few groups whom Trump has not personally offended, including Republican voters. It is as if Trump does not realize that he should be trying to get votes, not express dominance over other people. His behavior is more consistent with an authoritarian strongman operating in pre-democratic times, or a vindictive mob boss seeking to defend territory in an autarkic free-for-all, not a candidate seeking to win an election. Perhaps Trump supporters, who tend to have authoritarian personality traits, also don’t really believe that we are operating in a democracy.

Much has been said about how Trump supporters are racist, anti-immigrant, and Islamophobic, but it is possible to be racist or anti-immigrant and still support basic democratic values such as the rule of law, freedom of expression, and equal protection, and basic norms of civil society such as politeness, mutual respect, and avoiding threats of violence. What particularly delighted Trump supporters, and distinguished Trump from other Republican candidates such as Ted Cruz who took equally bigoted positions, was Trump’s demonstrated willingness to violate democratic values and basic norms of civil society. Evidently for Trump supporters, the “racial and gender order,” enforced by the authoritarian tactics of bullying, harassment, intimidation, and violence, is more important than democratic values. Trump has endorsed violence against protestors at his rallies, tried to intimidate the news media, called for his opponent to be jailed, and most recently stated that he will not necessarily respect the outcome of the election. Each statement crosses a new “red line” but should not be surprising; violating democratic norms is the essence of Trump’s brand and what attracts his supporters. Among Republican voters, 84 percent say that listening to Trump brag about sexually assaulting women does not change their support for him.

Elizabeth Warren has said that Trump is the “natural consequence” of Republican extremism. But this does not go back far enough. Democracy and protection of basic human rights are valued by people who seek protection from persecution. Perhaps the roughly 40 percent of U.S. voters who support Trump are willing to sacrifice democratic values because they never expect to be in need of the protection that democratic values provide; they have always been part of the ruling coalition, and believe they always will be. Trump is struggling among Mormons, who are normally solidly Republican but have a fear and real history of being persecuted, and is struggling among white Catholics for partly the same reason. Part of Trump’s weakness with women voters is that women understand being victimized by men in a way that men do not.

Another possibility is that Trump supporters fear being outside the ruling coalition so much that they feel they must resort to authoritarian means to preserve their ruling coalition. In other words, if they truly believed in the strength of democratic values and institutions, they would not fear becoming a numerical minority. But perhaps they never believed in the first place.

What we are seeing in the widespread support for Trump is not just right-wing extremism but a deep, almost fatal, weakness in the Western democratic project. Despite constant promulgation of democratic values in its civic, educational, and cultural institutions, the majority of the largest ethnic and gender group in one of the world’s most powerful democracies are willing to dispose of those values when their historical dominance is slightly threatened. In a country founded on the ideals of welcoming immigrants and religious tolerance, with even a national holiday celebrating these values, the majority of the members of the largest ethnic group support a candidate who calls immigrants murderers and rapists.

This weakness has always existed, but Trump’s candidacy has revealed it more fully and shockingly. Trump has taken more extreme positions than any major candidate has taken before, not on the left-right spectrum, but on the desirability and legitimacy of democracy itself, and we observe roughly 40 percent of America in support. A person’s preferences over two outcomes can be observed only when she chooses among those outcomes. For the first time in modern history, Americans have been offered a clear choice between democracy and authoritarianism, and 40 percent are choosing authoritarianism. Not all of this 40 percent are Trump enthusiasts; for example, some might support Trump out of Republican party loyalty. But in some sense the existence of reluctant Trump supporters is even more alarming: a reluctant supporter is willing to vote for authoritarian values and tactics despite revulsion for Trump, and might become enthusiastic if a more polished authoritarian comes along.

Until Obama’s election, the conflict between democratic institutions and the “racial and gender order” was less apparent because the outcomes of national elections were consistent with overall white and male dominance. It is often said that the first test of a fledgling democracy is when the first peaceful transfer of power takes place. If we think of this transfer as occurring from one ethnic and gender group to another, democracy in the United States and in most western European nations has not yet passed its first real test. Instead of willingly giving up power to multiracial and multi-gender coalitions, a majority of whites and males support a candidate who wants to upend the democratic process.

It is sometimes claimed that people not in the Western cultural tradition are not “ready” for democracy. But the opposite is true. The majority of the ethnic and cultural descendants of Western Europe in one of the largest democracies are demonstrating their willingness to abandon democracy in an attempt to preserve their ethnic and gender authority. If a majority of Asians, Latinos, or African Americans, or a majority of women, supported an openly insurrectionist leader, this would be considered a national emergency.

What will Trump supporters do once Trump loses? By 2065, white men are projected to be between 20 and 25 percent of the US population, and by then would presumably realize the futility of an electoral strategy centered around themselves. But in the medium term, the 40 percent of the population who are Trump supporters will maintain power, especially in regions such as the southern and mountain states. Our federal system, which gives less populous states like Nebraska and Wyoming disproportionate representation and allows state legislatures to create congressional districts, creates safe seats for Republicans but makes the party unresponsive to national demographic trends. Republicans will not build multiethnic coalitions or appeal broadly to women and thus will not win the presidency, but they will maintain seats in Congress and lose them only slowly. Hence they will continue to use tactics of obstruction at the federal level and maintain “white enclaves” in certain states which will last even as the percentage of whites in the nation as a whole declines.

After the Civil War, the federal government found it too costly to enforce the rights of African Americans in southern states, and tolerated lynching, Jim Crow, poll taxes, and literacy tests. Only more than a century later, when the civil rights movement forced the issue, did the federal government intervene. In the coming decades, will the federal government find it too costly to intervene and “pacify” the enclaves of Trump supporters?

What will people who oppose Trump do once he loses? Most of us will feel like a bad dream is finally over and things will go back to “normal.” But “normal” no longer exists. We used to see people like the armed white supremacists who occupied the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon as pathetic idiots, but now it is clear that circumstances exist in which 40 percent of the U.S. population would support people who are equally pathetic and idiotic, and much more dangerous. It is now obvious to everyone, including would-be demagogues, that these 40 percent are mobilizable, and that white male authoritarianism can attract much more than a fringe. Even before Trump, white nationalists enjoyed enough congressional support to force the dismantling of the branch of the Department of Homeland Security that monitored their activities. After Trump loses, will there be enough political will, for example among moderate Democrats, to confront the hatred and violence his campaign has legitimized?

The Republican party, which could have gone in the direction of multiethnic coalitions after its 2013 “autopsy report,” has gone in the opposite direction, and cannot really change course given its now close and radioactive (to women and people of color) association with Trump. Hence a large chunk of the U.S. political system is “locked in” to white male authoritarianism at least for a few decades.

Some recommend trying to understand and sympathize with Trump supporters, who feel like something is being taken away from them and have low education in an economy which increasingly rewards only smarts and favors “female” over “male” personality traits. This is of course necessary, but this sympathy and understanding is more expedient than fairly given; have you ever heard anyone advocating sympathy for the “Asian working class” or “Black working class?”

We need to think about how we can make whites, especially white men, feel that they can continue to be valued and respected members of society. The end of apartheid is a reasonable analogy: famously, Nelson Mandela appeared in full uniform for the 1995 world rugby final won by the South African team, lending his support to a sport and team that symbolized apartheid. For many, this gesture did more to unite post-apartheid South Africa than any other event. Perhaps Obama can go to Branson.

The danger to democracy itself from Trump supporters is real and must be confronted. It is the greatest danger to democracy since World War II, even perhaps since the Civil War, and completely internal. If we had done a better and earlier job with confronting, as opposed to accommodating, white and male privilege, and convincing people that what they feel is being taken away is something that they never should have felt they had in the first place, we might not have reached this situation. Combating white and male privilege is now not only about justice but also about steering democracy away from self-destruction. As it is, we made our society just inclusive enough to save it.

ChweMichael Suk-Young Chwe is professor of political science at the University of California, Los Angeles, and the author of Rational Ritual: Culture, Coordination, and Common Knowledge and Jane Austen, Game Theorist (both Princeton).

Adam Seth Levine: Does Populist Rhetoric Undermine Itself?

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by Adam Seth Levine

The 2016 presidential race features no shortage of populist rhetoric. While scholars and commentators disagree about the extent to which candidates such as Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders are truly populists, there is no doubt that they have frequently employed rhetoric that contains two essential features: first, a critique of contemporary political and economic life and, second, a call for broader participation by the people that will set things right in response to an elite held responsible for these problems.

At first blush, these two features would seem to be perfectly compatible with one another. However, a growing body of research shows that they often are not. In fact, the sharper the critique of contemporary life—and, in particular, the more it is phrased in terms that are personally relevant—the more likely it is to undermine people’s desire to heed the call to action. In short, populist rhetoric is often self-undermining.

This line of research uses experiments to randomly assign people to receive populist rhetoric (or not) and then measures their level of political engagement. The general conclusion that emerges is that, when rhetoric reminds people about critiques of economic and political life that relate directly to their personal financial concerns and/or ways in which our democracy fails to be responsive the wishes of the citizenry, then such rhetoric often reduces rather than increases their willingness to spend scarce resources on activism. At the same time, however, it does increase people’s concern about the issues and willingness to express support for remedies. So, it satisfies one goal while at the same time undermining another. This pattern is important because, while public opinion can impact the shape of the political agenda and the likelihood of policy change, that link is not automatic. Such change is more likely to arise when there is also organized activism pushing for it.

For instance, in my 2015 book, American Insecurity: Why Our Economic Fears Lead to Political Inaction, I conducted a series of experiments in which some participants were randomly assigned to receive general information about a civic organization along with populist appeals related to its work to address health care costs or education costs, while others just received the general information. I found that when the populist rhetoric reminded people about financial constraints they were personally facing (e.g. students with education loans, or people without health insurance facing large health care costs), then it reduced their willingness to donate money to the organization. If they were in the labor force, it also reduced their willingness to spend time by joining the organization. Yet, in all cases, people become more concerned about the issue at hand and were more likely to consider it a political priority. In short, reminding people about their financial constraints often does not motivate them to want to spend money or time on politics, even if it heightens concern about the problem.

What about critiques of contemporary political life? During the 2016 race, both Trump and Sanders have repeatedly warned that citizens’ voices are not being heard and that the election is rigged. Robyn Stiles and I recently tested the effect of this kind of rhetoric on people’s willingness to be electorally engaged. We found that in each case messages about elections being rigged or the wealthy buying elections reduced electoral engagement, even though they increased the degree to which people expressed increasing concern about the problem. In short, telling people that their voice may not matter does not make them want to spend scarce resources exercising it, even if it makes them more likely to support policies that would reduce political inequality.

While these two experiments by no means cover the full range of populist rhetoric, they do highlight the central point: there is often a critical and unrecognized tension within the two main goals of populist rhetoric. What to do? One answer is that sparking activism in response to people’s concerns about contemporary economic and political life will often require tapping into motivations other than the issues themselves. After all, people get involved in politics for many reasons that are not solely about the personal grievances and policy goals they hold, such as motivations tied to social influence and other social goals (e.g. the desire to respond affirmatively to a friend). Invoking these motivations is not always easy, but at the same time holds greater promise for sparking activism in situations where the rhetoric itself is self-undermining.


Adam Seth Levine is an assistant professor in the Department of Government at Cornell University. He has published in a variety of outlets such as the Journal of Politics, Political Analysis, Review of Behavioral Economics, and Political Communication. His work has won numerous awards, including the 2011 E. E. Schattschneider Prize. This prize is the highest dissertation award in the field of American government and is given annually by the American Political Science Association. He is the author of American Insecurity: Why Our Economic Fears Lead to Political Inaction.

Hugo Drochon on Nietzsche’s Politics

DrochonWhen Hugo Drochon first encountered Nietzsche’s intoxicating Beyond Good and Evil, he was struck by the realization that “many things in life didn’t rise out of a politics of good faith, as it were, but rather of bad faith.” But what exactly did Nietzsche think and how did he engage with the main political events and transformations of his time? While Nietzsche’s impact on the world of culture, philosophy, and the arts is uncontested, his political thought has long been mired in controversy and remains, according to Drochon, seriously under-explored. In his new book, Nietzsche’s Great Politics, Drochon places Nietzsche’s politics back in the nineteenth century from which they arose, asking what politics meant for the famous thinker as well as how his ideas speak to contemporary debates. Recently, Drochon took the time to answer some questions about his new book.

When did you first encounter Nietzsche?

I first encountered Nietzsche during the second year of my undergraduate degree. I took two different courses that year that were to be quite significant for me: ‘History of Political Thought’ and ‘Theories of International Relations’. The latter focused on different theories of IR, from classic realism, liberalism, neo-realism and neo-liberalism, to more critical approaches including critical theory, green theory, feminism and postmodernism. Theory was new to me, but I was an instant convert. I think I bombarded the lecturer with questions until she finally said to me: ‘go read Nietzsche’. Happily we had an anthology for the History of Political Thought course – one I also really enjoyed, and which set me upon my future career path – which had as its final text Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil. I read it over the summer.


It was an epiphany. Nietzsche just spoke to so many themes that resonated with me, and he opened up my eyes to the fact that many things in life didn’t arise out of a politics of good faith, as it were, but rather of bad faith. Moreover, all readers of Nietzsche will bear witness to the intoxicating nature of his writing.

Did you decide there and then you would work on Nietzsche’s politics?

Not quite, that would come a little later. In the last year of my undergraduate I studied Marxism, democratic theory and the French Revolution, which all combined very nicely in a certain way. And whilst I was impressed by the analytical tools Marxism provided, I always felt the picture it offered was incomplete. It was up to Nietzsche to fill it out.

So you came back to Nietzsche’s politics.

Yes. Beyond Good and Evil had struck me as being obviously interested in politics in different ways, but when I turned to the secondary literature to get a firmer grasp of what Nietzsche’s politics were meant to be, I was left feeling quite dissatisfied. Not least because half the literature denied Nietzsche was interested in politics!

A legacy of his use by the Nazis during WWII?

Undoubtedly. After his misappropriation by the Nazis it was natural to depict Nietzsche as a thinker who was not interested in politics as a way of saving him from the philosophical abyss he had fallen into after the war, which Bertrand Russell had branded ‘Nietzsche’s War’. And we are undeniably indebted to Walter Kaufmann and others for having done that. Since then there has been a renewal of interest in Nietzsche and politics, but that has mainly been through the various ways Nietzsche is thought to contribute to the renewal of ‘agonistic’ democracy. What exactly politics meant for him, however, is still something that remains, in my view, mostly under-explored.

How did you go about exploring Nietzsche’s politics?

I think the main move was to place Nietzsche back into his own context of late nineteenth century Germany and Europe – our current debates are still too stuck, to my mind, in the twentieth century. Nietzsche was writing during Bismarck’s era, not Hitler’s. And Bismarck’s era was fascinating. It saw a number of tremendous transformations, not least the unification of Germany through Bismarck’s infamous politics of ‘blood and iron’, and the power politics between the great European nations. It was an era full of tensions and contradictions, with the simultaneous rise of nationalism and colonization – the ‘Scramble for Africa’ – socialism and democracy.

Bismarck’s ‘Great Politics’ inspired the title of your book?

Indeed. The idea was to see whether Nietzsche thought and engaged with the main political events and transformations of his time, and if he did then whether that might open the door to understanding what Nietzsche’s own politics might amount to. Nietzsche, in fact, actively participated in many of the major events of his time: he served as a medical orderly during the Franco-Prussian War, which sealed Prussia’s dominance over the newly-founded German Empire. And he thought hard about them too. Drawing from his own experience of the war, Nietzsche was at first very critical of Bismarck’s ‘great politics’. But with Beyond Good and Evil he was able to develop his own theory of what great politics should truly be about. Instead of a politics of nationalism and self-aggrandizement, Nietzsche wanted to unify Europe through a trans-European ‘Good European’ cultural elite. This united Europe could then play on a level playing field with the British and Russian Empires in the ‘Great Game’ of international politics, but it would also have a more exalted calling of fostering the emergence of a new high European culture, reminiscent of the Greeks of old.

By placing Nietzsche back in his nineteenth century context, does that mean he has nothing to say to us today?

I hope not. But if we are to understand what we might still learn from him today, we must first get a good handle on what politics meant for him, instead of just seeing how he might contribute to our contemporary debates. In the book I argue that Nietzsche’s greatest legacy is the conceptual tools he affords us in understanding the world we live in. Of course the late nineteenth century is quite different to our own time, but it also saw the development of certain aspects of politics – democratization, not least – which are still relevant to us today. The notions Nietzsche developed to theorize his world can help us better understand the world we live in today. Therein lies, in my view, his greatest teaching.

And guide us too?

Hopefully, yes. Coming up to the EU referendum in the UK on the 23 June I wrote a piece for Project Syndicate about how Nietzsche can help us think about the European question. Much of what Nietzsche says about Europe is of course dated, but there is at least one way in which I think Nietzsche can help. That is in his distinction between a ‘great’ – as he understood it – and ‘petty’ politics of European unification, which is how he recast Bismarck’s power politics in light of his own. So do we want a ‘great’ politics of European unification or a ‘petty’ politics of European fragmentation? Unfortunately the vote didn’t really go in the direction I was advocating, but I hope to have at least shown how Nietzsche can be made to address our present concerns.

Final question: who do you want to reach with this book, and what are you hoping to achieve?

Nietzsche scholars of course, but I’d like to think historians of political thought, political theorists/philosophers, intellectual historians, and a larger discerning public might be interested in it too. Nietzsche has a broad appeal, and I hope to offer here a slightly different dimension. I’ve suggested some of the things I hope to achieve above – relocating Nietzsche’s politics to his own time; how the intellectual tools he fashioned for himself can help us better understand the world we live in today – but let me finish with one last thought. I said I first came across Nietzsche in an anthology of political thought, where I read Beyond Good and Evil. That anthology, in its revised version, has replaced Beyond Good and Evil with On the Genealogy of Morality, which is in line with how Nietzsche is being taught across universities today. That, to me, is a shame. I do not mean in the least to deny the importance of the Genealogy – which is a fantastic book, and I can understand how it is easier to teach given its more focused material – but Beyond Good and Evil strikes me as a more complete text (the Genealogy was meant to serve as its appendix), which applies Nietzsche’s main philosophical ideas directly to his political context. If we are serious about studying Nietzsche’s political thought in its own right, then we must try to understand how Nietzsche’s politics is related to his philosophy. Beyond Good and Evil is the best place to do just that.

Hugo Drochon is a historian of nineteenth- and twentieth-century political thought and a postdoctoral research fellow at CRASSH, the Centre for Research in the Arts, Social Sciences, and Humanities, at the University of Cambridge.

Amy Binder: Conservative organizations and the suspicion of higher education

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By Amy J. Binder

Perhaps no one in America better personifies the political attacks on higher education than the governor of Wisconsin and would-be Republican presidential candidate, Scott Walker. In the years since he took office, Walker has managed to slash hundreds of millions of dollars in spending from public universities in his state and diminished job protections for professors, among other actions.

Walker may have a personal ax to grind with higher education, but it would be a mistake to think that he — or other politicians who attack public higher education — simply harbors individual grudges. Rather, for many years now “dark money” has paved the way for politicians’ symbolic, political, and material attacks on higher education. There are many familiar individuals’ and organizational names funding these attacks — John Olin, David and Charles Koch, the Heritage Foundation — all of whom have had a hand in crafting the talking points that Republican governors and legislatures use in the battle plans they employ.

Now that “dark money” has become a better known story, it’s an opportune moment to think about the ways this agenda has potentially influenced the wider public’s regard for higher education. For decades, a handful of organizations has been working in the trenches with conservative college students. With their emphasis on liberal indoctrination and conservative victimhood on college campuses, these organizations have fostered student activism and suspicion about higher education, which have created fertile soil in which larger-scale political attacks on higher education can germinate and grow. I would venture that they have contributed to undermining confidence in the higher education enterprise, even among those who are reaping its benefits—college grads.

The Young America’s Foundation (YAF), a tax-exempt 501(c)3 organization founded in the late 1960s, now boasted more than $59 million in assets in 2014, and had expenditures of approximately $20 million that same year. Annual expenditures at YAF include organizing campus speaking tours for conservative luminaries such as Ann Coulter, Ted Nugent, Dinesh D’Souza, David Horowitz, and many, many others. When not sending speakers to the nation’s campuses, the YAF brings conservative students to it, at regional and national conferences every year. But whether speakers come to campus, or students go to conferences, the Foundation fuels a provocative style. Enticed with such slogans depicting faculty as tree-hugging, gun-taking, wealth-hating, and leftist-loving, students are taught in “boot camps” to fight “persecution” on campus with an “activist mentality confronting their liberal peers and professors head-to-head with “aggressive” tactics. Students take up the charge by staging showy events like “Affirmative Action Bake Sales” and “Catch an Illegal Alien Day.” This provocative style of right-wing activism is designed to poke fun at liberals, get them angry, and attract the media spotlight, and it is based on, and fosters, mistrust of faculty, classmates, and administrators. A staff member at Young America’s Foundation specifically said his organization went after Average Joe students — or, not the ones who attend Harvard, Princeton, and Yale.

Another organization, called the Leadership Institute, had $30 million in assets in 2015, and spent nearly $14 million last year supporting conservative students online, on campus, and in their training facilities in Arlington, Virginia. The organization claims to keep a database of “leftist faculty” and “biased textbooks” on some 2,000 campuses, and it has trained tens of thousands of college students over the past four decades to enter politics and use advanced technology to get the conservative message out. One former employee of the Leadership Institute is James O’Keefe, the videographer who produced heavily edited, undercover audio and video recordings with workers at ACORN, NPR, and Planned Parenthood, all of which went viral on the alt-right Breitbart.com. While at the Leadership Institute, and like the organization’s other field representatives, O’Keefe traveled to campuses across the nation consulting with students on starting clubs and conservative newspapers.

Like the Young America’s Foundation, the Leadership Institute also gets better traction at public universities, where it delivers a coordinated message to students: You are under siege on your liberal campus, you should not trust your professors, your educational institutions do not favor students like you, and you must use aggressive tactics to counteract the discrimination. They spread mistrust about higher education not only to the conservative activists with whom they work closely, but to other students on campus who may pick up the newspapers they sponsor or events they fund.

Right-leaning students who do not fit the “Joe Average” profile of these two organizations find support elsewhere. The best-known national organization nurturing this disposition is the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, or ISI, founded in the 1950s by William F. Buckley. ISI advertises itself as the premiere organization for the “best and the brightest” among conservative students. It offers seminars on moral and political philosophy (which ISI’s leaders say are lacking on campus), while also providing networking and internship opportunities at the National Review, the Weekly Standard, and other such media. Ross Douthat, the op-ed writer for the New York Times, was a member of the 2002 class at ISI while he attended Harvard, and is now a speaker for the organization. ISI’s 2015 assets totaled “only” $11 million, according to its website.

It’s important to think about how the conservative styles students are learning now on their campuses and national organizations may have an impact on their ideas about higher education and politics later. At YAF and the Leadership Institute, staff encourage students to turn against higher education: to regard college campuses with suspicion about political correctness, multiculturalism, wastefulness, and elitism. This may help explain why even college-educated conservatives can have such a dim view of higher education—alongside voters with lower education levels—and will support cutting funding to it.

What can be done about this situation—is it possible to minimize provocation and misgivings about higher education today to salvage politics about public higher education tomorrow? I think so, but short of a gigantic political watershed, it will be important for faculty and administrators on individual campuses to figure out what they can do to help.

I would not advise university leaders to bar outside speakers and organizations from campus. It’s unconstitutional and it backfires: One need only read about the martyred David Horowitz or Milo Yiannopoulos to see what happens when administrators try to keep incendiary provocateurs away from colleges and universities. Futhermore, there are some speakers associated with the Young America’s Foundation, and even more so in the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, who offer students greater diversity in discourse, which can deepen their connections to higher education.

Rather, university administrators and faculty — the most immediate targets of the conservative organizations’ attacks — need to be clear-eyed that higher education skepticism is being fomented on their campuses, and they must think about ways to create and strengthen organizational structures that can help all students, including those who identify as conservatives, feel connected to their university and part of a larger community. Helping students who now feel alienated from campus to feel more integrated helps give the lie to the discourse about “elitist, persecuting, alienating, wasteful” colleges.

I am not talking about university leaders creating cultures of “school spirit”—which can actually have negative effects and add to the sense of “fun” students being confrontational, often at black and Latino students’ expense. What I am talking about is bolstering mundane, but very important, organizational arrangements on university campuses, like a lower student-to-faculty ratio. And if this isn’t possible because of funding cuts, making sure that there are more staff on campus whether in residential life, admissions, or administration, who are responsible for getting to know students and who can serve as mentors and advisors to them. Such relationships bind students to campus and build rapport.

It also means challenging students to think of themselves more as members of an intellectual, or smart, community of peers, where they can try out and refine their political ideas with others. This means more emphasis on engaged teaching, more office hours, more faculty connection to students, more efforts at role modeling what it looks like to appreciate, but also constructively critique, one’s campus.

It means building more on-campus housing at public universities, which anchors students in more heterogeneous living situations than when they are allowed to pick their own housemates off-campus and live farther away in more atomized living arrangements.

It means that faculty and graduate student TAs should be highly circumspect about slipping into raw political partisanship in their classes, which alienates conservative and also moderate students.

If university faculty, administrators, and staff are intentional in using the funding they do have to strengthening a sense of community for undergraduates on their campuses, then this is one means for shaping experiences that run counter to public attacks on higher education. Universities play a large role in shaping student identities, and in this case, the types of organizational commitments I have mentioned can counteract the identities sponsored by conservative organizations. With some of these campus-level fixes, at the very least we would have a greater number of conservative alumni who cognitively cannot recognize the caricature of public higher education that conservative politicians and their allies make about their university.

BinderAmy J. Binder is professor of sociology at the University of California, San Diego. She is the author of Contentious Curricula: Afrocentrism and Creationism in American Public Schools (Princeton) and Becoming Right: How Campuses Shape Young Conservatives.

Christopher Loss: Will higher education be free?

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By Christopher P. Loss

Higher education will figure more than ever in the coming presidential battle between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump. Once a political afterthought, higher education has become a major policy problem of great consequence in recent elections. This one will be no different.

The candidates have their choice of issues from which to choose, from state disinvestment and affordability to access and free speech. But the only one that’s going to matter come November will be Clinton’s vow to make public college free for families who earn less than $125,000 and Trump’s determined opposition to it.

The idea of “free college” is not new. In 1947 President Truman favored it. The recent discussion of it, however, was sparked by President Obama in 2015 when he proposed America’s College Promise—at $60 billion plan modeled on Tennessee’s free community college program of the same name. Late in his second term, Obama’s proposal flamed out in Congress but became a touchstone of Senator Bernie Sanders’ upstart presidential bid and, ultimately, part of the Democratic Party’s platform.

The “free college” issue will be central to both campaigns. Trump, who has yet to put forth a higher education platform, has the easier task. He will do what he can to portray Clinton’s plan as just another big ticket, big government giveaway that the country cannot possibly afford—a wasteful bailout for the under-performing, outmoded higher education sector. Among fiscal conservatives and the “poorly educated” whom Trump has actively courted, this will be all they need to hear.

For her part, Clinton will press hard on the Trump University debacle for as long as she can, though at some point she will have to make her case for government action in what would be a colossally complicated and hugely expensive undertaking. The specter of Clinton’s failed effort at healthcare reform in the 1990s also looms large. For years that failure was used by her opponents as exhibit A of big government run amuck.

In the aftermath, if not afterglow, of the Affordable Care Act, however, Clinton has been partially redeemed as a politician ahead of her time. Will the American people get behind Clinton on the free college issue? Is she a sage or just another political opportunist willing to say and do anything to win over the college-educated voters who abandoned her in the spring but that she needs in the fall? This is the question heading into November.

Which begs a series of other related questions: First, is the college cost crunch the big issue that Clinton and others in the media have made it out to be?

The answer to this question is a qualified yes: the cost of college is a daunting burden for many students, but especially for poor students. Yet it’s also true that there is an enormous amount of misinformation about the “real” cost of college, as William Bowen and Michael S. McPherson detail well in their new book, Lesson Plan: An Agenda for Change in American Higher Education (Princeton University Press, 2016). Using data from the College Board, they put college costs in perspective, noting that 61 percent of college students graduate with some debt and that the average debt per graduate is around $26,000. They dig deeper to make sense of exactly what it means, since 39 percent of indebted graduates owe less than $10,000 and another 28 percent owe between $10,000 and $25,000. Only four percent of students owe more than $100,000. These data may surprise readers who have relied on anecdotal news articles and misleading documentaries for their information; for Bowen and McPherson, these data suggest that the affordability problem might well be “overblown” and that there are bigger issues like college completion that need to be addressed.

For the sake of argument, let’s agree that rising tuition and fees and associated debt represents a problem of some magnitude. This leads to the second question: if Clinton is elected—and most prognosticators seem to think she will be—is the wholesale reconstruction of the federal-higher education student aid model politically feasible? I wouldn’t count on it. Although it is clear that we long ago entered an era where a college diploma is necessary for upward mobility and global competitiveness—when the social and economic benefits of education beyond high school are beyond doubt—a total overhaul the federal aid model seems farfetched. Not only are there real issues with the associated costs and administrative challenges of implementation, as Kevin Carey noted recently in the New York Times, the likelihood of continued Republican control of the House as well as the Senate would make it difficult if not impossible to pass such a law.

Where does this leave us? More than likely it leaves the higher education system in exactly the place that it is today, with students left to navigate the existing aid system in order to go to school.

LossChristopher P. Loss is associate professor of public policy and Higher Education and associate professor of history at Vanderbilt University. He is the author of Between Citizens and State: The Politics of of American Higher Education in the 20th Century (Princeton University Press, 2012), which won the  2013 American Educational Research Association Outstanding Book Award.

Offer and Söderberg on the real-world consequences of economics–and the Nobel Prize

Offer and SoderbergThe Nobel Prize in Economics arose during a changing time for the world’s markets. Was this a coincidence? Avner Offer and Gabriel Söderberg say no. In  The Nobel Factor: The Prize in Economics, Social Democracy and the Market Turn, Offer and Söderberg detail  how the prize, which was first awarded to economists Jan Tinbergen and Ragnar Frisch in 1969, was created by the Swedish central bank to enhance the central bank authority and the prestige of market-friendly economics. Offer and Söderberg have taken some time to answer questions about the origins of this esteemed prize and how it emerged from a conflict between central bank orthodoxy and social democracy.

What is the core argument of this book?

AO & GS: Since the 1970s, academic economics and social democracy have disputed how society should be managed. The challenge is those parts of the life cycle when people have little market power, the contingencies of motherhood, education, illness, disability, unemployment, and old age. Economics claims that it is best to buy protection in financial markets, by means of saving, borrowing and insurance. This is backed up by the supposed authority of science, symbolized by the Nobel Prize in Economics. It is also the objective of business and finance in their quest to capture profit from everybody’s income streams. Social democracy deals with dependency by means of transfers from producers to dependents, providing education, healthcare, pensions, physical infrastructure and culture, and pooling the individual risks by means of taxation and transfers. We question the claims of economics to impartiality and superior reason.

Why does the Prize in Economics matter?

AO & GS: Nobel prize-winners provide a high-quality sample of economics. The prize has a halo that makes economics credible to the wider public, for policies which are often inimical to the public interest. It arose out of the long conflict between the interests of the wealthy in stable prices, and of everyone else in social and material improvement. Between the wars, this conflict became focused in central banks, which became a brake on social democracy. After the Second World War, the Swedish Central Bank clashed repeatedly with the social democratic government over financing the welfare state, and extracted the prize as a concession. The prize was then captured by conservative Swedish economists, who used it to provide credibility for sustained resistance to social democracy. This story shows how ideas and arguments work through society and politics, and how the prestige of science has been mobilised for political ends.

Who is this book for?

AO & GS: It enlarges understanding of economic and social development with a wealth of new findings that will engage students and academics in economics, social science, and history. This includes the two-thirds of economists who hold onto social-democratic values, at odds with their professional indoctrination. Policy makers in government, business, finance, and voluntary organizations may find that the concepts on which they rely are not well founded. The argument is written to be attractive to read for anyone interested in current affairs, economic policy, and the future of society, all over the world.

After the financial crisis many new books have criticized mainstream economics. How is this book different?

AO & GS: One rebuttal by economists is that critics have no alternative to offer. But economics is not in fact hegemonic: public policy is dominated by a pervasive, pragmatic and effective system of social democracy which allocates about 30 percent of GDP in most advanced countries (lower in the USA due to a private health system). ‘It works in practice, but will it work in theory?’ is the challenge of economics. It imagines a world of self-interested, rational persons whose choices scale up to a benign equilibrium, as if by an invisible hand. But this vision is arbitrary, difficult to apply, and not even consistent. Economics has turned its back to social democracy, and has also missed the buildup to the recent financial crisis.

Many Americans regard social democracy as something exclusively European. Why should Americans be interested?

AO & GS: This is delusive, like the tea party member who asked the government to take its hands off his medicare. The United States deploys a broad range of social democratic arrangements: free public schools up to eighteen, a public higher education system; health services for the indigent, the old, and military veterans; unemployment benefits, some income and disability support, and a reasonable system of old-age pensions (social security). Much of its other spending (fiscal and other subsidies, especially the mortgage interest offset against tax) is regressive and misdirected. Americans are becoming aware of the cost of their dysfunctional and expensive medical system. Educational debt is a crisis in the making. Private retirement arrangements are failing. Bernie Sanders, a self-proclaimed democratic socialist, has mounted a formidable challenge in the Democratic primaries. The other candidates have joined him in advocating more social security and free higher education; like the tea party member, the supporters of Trump are also responding to the weakness of American social democracy.

Many commentators in Europe are discussing the crisis of social democracy in terms of lack of vision and declining support. What do you think is the future of social democracy and how must it adapt to survive and flourish in the future?

AO & GS: The problems of social democracy arise partly from its success. It developed as a one-size-fits-all solution for male manual wage-earners, and was difficult to adapt to a more diverse, educated, and affluent society, and to service economies that employ men and women in almost equal proportions. Social democracy is still the bedrock of personal security. Its objectives and methods are not fully understood by its practitioners and advocates, and hardly at all by those who benefit. Centre-left politicians, beguiled by market rhetoric, have not served it well. The values of reciprocity and solidarity underpin social democracy: they are more attractive ethically than unbridled greed, but also more effective and efficient. The ‘market turn’ held out the prospect of moving beyond social democracy to private ‘nest egg’ provision for economic security. Home ownership promised wealth for everybody. Driven by easy credit and mounting debt, this seemed to work for a while but has now built up inequality, social exclusion and financial crisis. The advocates of self-regulating markets did not anticipate such a precarious outcome.

Avner Offer is Chichele Professor Emeritus of Economic History at the University of Oxford in Oxford, England. He is a fellow of All Souls College, Oxford and the British Academy.  His books include The Challenge of AffluenceGabriel Söderberg is a researcher in the Department of Economic History at Uppsala University in Uppsala, Sweden. The two recently collaborated on the book The Nobel Factor: The Prize in Economics, Social Democracy and the Market Turn.

Maurizio Viroli: Machiavelli not in support of Donald Trump

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Maurizio Viroli

Donald Trump has cashed Niccolò Machiavelli’s political support. The endorsement, with important qualifications, comes via Professor Harvey C. Mansfield, a world authority in the field of Machiavelli studies (The Wall Street Journal, July 29, 2016). In his view, Donald Trump puts well in practice Machiavelli’s advice that “winning dishonorably is better than losing honorably.” Trump does not care at all of being regarded as a gentleman, and has openly expressed his disrespect for John McCain and Mitt Romney, two leaders who are, in his mind, gentlemen but losers. He wants, on the contrary, to be a winner.

The problem with Machiavelli’s alleged endorsement is that he would consider Trump a very poor pupil, if he truly believes that to be a good Machiavellian one must endorse the view that to win dishonorably is better than to lose honorably. ‘Donald – Machiavelli would say – I appreciate your efforts, but you have got my counsels wrong. Read my books carefully. I have never ever written, or implied, that to win dishonorably is better than losing honorably. What I have taught is that to win dishonorably is better than to lose honorably, if you cannot win honorably. Your goal, to put it differently, must be to win honorably, unless you are compelled to use dishonorable means.’

Is there anyone prepared to argue that an unescapable necessity forces Trump not to be a gentleman? If he wanted to, he could run his campaign against Hillary with impeccable gentlemanly style. I am almost sure that Professor Harvey Mansfield too would agree that nothing prevents Trump from being a gentleman. Unless it is his very character, his truest nature, and his deepest self that force him to behave in an ungentlemanly manner.

But if this is in fact the case, Machiavelli would severely reprimand the republican candidate ‘Donald, how many times do I have to tell you that if you want to become the president of the United States of America you must learn to simulate and dissimulate? I repeat it: a wise prince must be very careful never to let out of his mouth a single word that would not make him appear merciful, trustworthy, humane, blameless and religious. If you cannot restrain your tongue, just keep being a businessman and leave politics alone. People like you do cause great, and often tragic, damages to their countries.’

If one of Trump’s distinctive qualities is that he is always himself, that he always does things his way, then he lacks yet another virtue that Machiavelli regards as necessary in political leaders, namely the ability of adapting one’s conduct with the times. Although firmness is, in general, a virtue in private life, in politics it is often a vice. The main cause of the success or failure of men depend upon their manner of suiting their conduct to the times. Impetuous and cautious leaders alike may lose, or win, “but he errs least and will be most favored by fortune who suits his proceedings to the times,” Machiavelli writes. On balance, therefore, Machiavelli would endorse Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump: not because she embodies his ideal of a political leader, but because he would consider her less amateurish than Trump. And for him a political amateur in power is a sure recipe for tragedies.

Professor Mansfield maintains that Machiavelli and Trump have in common the mark, of “deplorable, out-of-date sexism.” If by sexism we mean the mentality based on the belief that males are better fit than females to be leaders in the most prestigious social activities, above all in politics, then Trump qualifies as a sexist, but Machiavelli surely does not, even if he was not politically correct either. He has written in the most eloquent manner that women do in fact possess the fundamental leadership qualities of prudence, courage and compassion. Caterina Sforza, the duchess of Forlì whom he met in 1499, was for him the perfect example, but not the only one. It is the princess of Carthage Dido who illustrates, in The Prince, the fundamental Machiavellian principle that it is impossible for a prince new to avoid the reputation of being cruel. In the unfinished poem, The (Golden) Ass Machiavelli puts in the mouth of a women a long and wise lecture on politics, history and the human condition.

Like Professor Mansfield, I mourn and bemoan the fading of gentlemen in political life in particular and in social life in general. I know I will be severely chastised, but I do believe that women can be, and many of them are, perfect gentlemen, if to be a gentlemen means, as Mansfield writes, to be a person “who is gentle by habit and character,” and not because he or she “is somehow forced to be.” By these standards, Hillary is surely a better gentleman than Trump. For this reason too Machiavelli would support her over. Professor Mansfield, I respectfully suggest, should do the same thereby gaining Machiavelli’s admiration. I know that this would mean a lot for him, as it does for me.

Viroli Maurizio Viroli is professor emeritus of politics at Princeton University, professor of government at the University of Texas, Austin, and professor of political communication at the University of Italian Switzerland in Lugano. His many works include Niccolò’s Smile: A Biography of Machiavelli (Hill & Wang) and How to Choose a Leader: Machiavelli’s Advice to Citizens (Princeton). His most recent book is The Quotable Machiavelli.


Hammer, Painting, Person: How to Value Democracy

Jason Brennan

What kind of value does democracy have? Should we value it the way we value hammers, paintings, or persons?

When we ask what makes a hammer valuable, we usually ask whether it is functional for us, as we are. Hammers have a purpose—to pound in nails—and good hammers serve that purpose. Hammers primarily have instrumental value. They help us achieve an independent goal. If some other tool better serves that goal, then we’d gladly replace our hammers with that other tool. No one insists on using a hammer when a driver or wrench works better.

When we ask what makes a painting valuable, we usually look to its symbolic value. We ask whether the painting is sublime, whether it evokes various feelings or ideas. We also value some paintings more highly because of how they were made, and who made them. An ugly Picasso scribble on a napkin might fetch a hundred grand, but if you or I drew the same picture, it wouldn’t fetch a dollar.

When we ask what makes human beings valuable, we will often say that they are ends in themselves. Sure, people can also have instrumental value—the person who makes you coffee serves a purpose—but they also have intrinsic value. People have a dignity, not a price, or so many philosophers insist.

What about democracy? Most political philosophers agree that democracy has instrumental value. It functions pretty well, and tends to produce relatively just outcomes. So, they think, democracy is valuable at least in the way a hammer is valuable.

They have a point. In general, the best places to live are liberal democracies, not genuine monarchies, sham democracies, oligarchies, or one party states. But, still, if democracy only has the kind of value a hammer has, then if we we’re able to identify a better functioning form of government, a form of government that better realizes procedure-independent standards of justice, we would happily replace democracy with this better functioning regime.

However, most philosophers—and many laypeople living in modern democracies—also think we should also value democracy the way we value a painting or a person. They claim that democracy uniquely expresses the idea that all people have equal worth and value. They claim that democratic outcomes are justified because of who made them and how they were made. They see democracy as an end in itself. Some philosophers think that democracy is an inherently just decision-making procedure. A few go so far as to hold that anything a democracy decides to do is justified simply because a democracy decided to do it. They deny there any procedure-independent standards by which to judge what democracies do.

Proceduralism is the view that certain political regimes are inherently just or that certain regimes are inherently unjust. Proceduralists about democracy tend to think democracy has the kind of value paintings and people have. For instance, the philosopher Thomas Christiano seems to think democracy is an end in itself, while David Estlund (in his 2007 Princeton University Press book Democratic Authority) argues most other forms of government other than democracy are inherently unjust.

Pure proceduralism, the most radical version of proceduralism, holds that there are no independent moral standards for evaluating the outcome of the decision-making institutions. Whatever a democracy does is just just because a democracy does it. This view—which is popular among certain democratic theorists—is on reflection rather absurd. For instance, suppose we had a dispute about whether citizens should be allowed to rape children. Suppose the majority votes, after following an idealized deliberative procedure, to allow adults to rape any children they please. They also vote to have the police ensure that no one stops adults from raping children. A pure proceduralist about democracy would have to say that, in this case, child rape would indeed be permissible. For that reason, pure proceduralism appears to be absurd. There are at least some procedure-independent standards of justice. It would be odd if there were independent moral truths about how to make decisions but not independent truths about what we may do.

Instrumentalism, in contrast, holds that 1) there are procedure-independent right answers to at least some political questions, and 2) what justifies a distribution of power or decision-making method is, at least in part, that this distribution or that method tends to select the right answer. So, for instance, in criminal law, we have an adversarial system, in which one lawyer represents the state and the other represents the defendant. There is an independent truth of the matter about whether the defendant is guilty. This truth is not decided by the jury’s fiat. Rather, the jury is supposed to discover what the truth is. Defenders of jury trials and the adversarial system believe that, as a whole, the system tends to track the truth better than other systems. If they learned they were mistaken about that, they’d stop advocating jury trials.

When it comes to democracy, do you advocate it on procedural grounds, instrumental grounds, or both?

In my forthcoming book Against Democracy, I argue that democracy is nothing more than a hammer. It is a means to an end, but not an end in itself. It is not intrinsically just. It is not justified on proceduralist grounds. Any value democracy has is purely instrumental. If we can find a better hammer, we’re obligated to use it. Further, I argue, there’s a good chance we know what the better hammer would be, and it’s time to experiment and find out.

BrennanJason Brennan is the Robert J. and Elizabeth Flanagan Family Associate Professor of Strategy, Economics, Ethics, and Public Policy at the McDonough School of Business at Georgetown University. He has written numerous books including The Ethics of Voting (Princeton), Why Not Capitalism?, and Libertarianism and is the coauthor of  Markets without Limits, Compulsory Voting, and A Brief History of Liberty. His most recent book is Against Democracy. He frequently writes for the blog Bleeding Heart Libertarians.

Pennsylvania Senate Election 2016: Pragmatism and Intraparty Conflict

Wendy Schiller & Cory Manento

This piece appears concurrently on the Brown University website.

electing the senate schiller jacketWith Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton each vying to win Pennsylvania in November, all eyes are on that state in terms of the presidency.  But there is a contested Senate race in 2016 this year pitting Pat Toomey, a 1st term conservative Republican incumbent against Katie McGinty, a well-connected Democratic Party challenger; at the moment they are locked in a virtual tie.  What is striking about this year’s Senate race in Pennsylvania is how much it shares in common with a Senate election held more than 100 years ago, when U.S. Senators were elected in state legislatures. It was not until 1913, with the ratification of the Seventeenth Amendment, that voters got the opportunity to directly elect their U.S. Senators.

At the turn of the twentieth century, Pennsylvania politics was dominated by the statewide Republican Party; for that entire period, every politician seeking higher office had to pass through the party filter in order to be successful.[1] Modern Pennsylvania politics is much more competitive however, with Democrats often winning statewide office and Congressional races. This fact, along with the advent of the direct election of U.S. Senators, has changed the political calculus of senators from the Keystone State who now must appeal to a broader constituency rather than a single dominant party. In the discussion that follows, Cory Manento and I analyze incumbent Pennsylvania Republican Senator Pat Toomey’s electoral career as it compares to one of Pennsylvania’s most famous U.S. Senators from the past, Matthew Quay. Even though more than 100 years separates these two U.S. Senators, they each overcame political defeat, intraparty conflict, and managed to establish a reputation for serving their states albeit in very different ways.

Pat Toomey – a political newcomer

Pennsylvania Senator Pat Toomey (R) had almost zero political experience when he ran successfully for the House of Representatives in 1998, but it was his passion for fiscal conservatism and the “watershed” 1994 elections that inspired him to enter politics.[2] One might expect Toomey to be a Democrat based on his background – he was born to union-worker Democratic parents in Providence, Rhode Island – but rather than being shaped by his childhood, his political ideology was shaped by his career as a Wall Street investment banker, which he began soon after graduating from Harvard.[3] It was in the banking industry that Toomey learned to oppose government regulations on the private sector and support an unfettered free market with low taxes. In 1990, Toomey moved to Allentown, Pennsylvania and opened up a restaurant with his siblings. He decided to enter politics in 1994 and served on the local Government Study Commission, leaving his mark by making it more difficult to raise local taxes.[4]

Sensing an opportunity, Toomey set his eyes on the open House of Representatives seat in his district in 1998. The seat, in Pennsylvania’s 15th Congressional District, was previously held by Democrat Paul McHale. By running on an anti-regulation agenda Toomey was able to win the support of the business community, which provided perhaps the decisive assistance his campaign required to win the six-candidate Republican House primary.[5] He went on to win the general election easily, and served three terms in the House. During his House tenure, Toomey (unsurprisingly) developed a reputation for fiscal conservatism. He served from 1999 to January 2005, making good on his campaign pledge to serve only three terms.[6]

But serving three terms did not mean the end of Toomey’s political aspirations. While still a House member, but knowing he would be leaving, Toomey challenged long-serving moderate Republican U.S. Senator Arlen Specter in the 2004 Republican Senate primary. Considered by many a long-shot candidate, Toomey cast Specter as too liberal and surprised observers by coming within two percentage points of unseating the senator.[7] Toomey’s 2004 primary bid was seen by some as a prelude to the conservative Tea Party – a faction within the Republican Party – and its electoral success in 2010.

Indeed, when Specter was again up for reelection in 2010, another Toomey challenge loomed. Rather than risk losing by again being portrayed as a liberal Republican, Specter decided to change parties. He eventually lost the Democratic primary anyway, while Toomey handily won the Republican primary. In the general election, Toomey was one of the most visible candidates in the Tea Party movement, railing against deficit spending, calling for extending the Bush Tax Cuts, and bemoaning the size of the national debt.[8] He again won support from the business community and fiscally conservative political action committees (PACs), including the Club for Growth, which he led from 2005 to 2009.[9] Toomey defeated Democratic Congressman Joe Sestak with 51 percent of the vote.

Prior to becoming a U.S. Senator, Toomey relished his “outsider” status and used it to his advantage as he criticized – and defeated – the “establishment.” But Senator Toomey has undoubtedly shifted away from his outsider status and revealed a pragmatic understanding of his electoral prospects. He did not join the Senate Republicans’ Tea Party Caucus in 2011 despite running as a Tea Party candidate, for instance. He also has proven to be a moderate on some social issues like LGBT rights, and has pushed for expanded background checks for gun sales.[10]

Toomey’s sharp criticism of U.S. fiscal policy during his 2010 campaign and his experience working in the financial services industry did not go unnoticed by Senate Republican leadership who put him on key committees in that issue area: the Finance Committee; the Committee on the Budget, and the Banking, Housing and Urban Affairs Committee. Additionally, he is chairman of the Finance Subcommittee on Health Care and the Banking Subcommittee on Financial Institutions and Consumer Protection. Through these committees and subcommittees, Toomey takes credit for his efforts and says he “fights for fiscal responsibility as well as for ending the overspending, higher taxes, and excessive red tape coming out of Washington.”[11]

One particularly revealing way to illustrate Toomey’s pragmatism is to compare measures of his voting record in the House of Representatives to his voting record in the Senate. In the 108th Congress (2003-2005), Toomey was in the 94th percentile for conservatism among House Republicans. When he became a senator, he dropped to the 57th percentile for conservatism among Senate Republicans.[12] This reflects Toomey’s understanding of his constituency. He was able to be a more conservative Republican in the House because his constituency was more narrow and homogenous. His district was also relatively “safe,” as he won his three elections by 10, 8, and 14 percentage points, respectively.[13] Pennsylvania, however, is considered a swing state that has voted Democratic in every presidential election since 1988, and its other senator is Democrat Bob Casey Jr. So it is clear that Toomey has needed to be pragmatic and broaden his appeal to voters that might not be as conservative as the voters that elected him to the House.

In order to distance himself from the Republican brand in the wake of factionalism within the party, Toomey’s strategy thus far has decidedly been to run on what he has done individually as a senator for Pennsylvania. The bipartisan JOBS Act of 2012, of which Toomey was a primary author, passed through the Senate’s Banking Committee with Toomey’s vote before being approved by Congress and signed by President Obama. The bill remains one of Toomey’s most prominent legislative achievements and is one of his central campaign talking points.[14] Moreover, an examination of his sponsored bills reveals a legislative agenda tailored to his constituency: Pennsylvania ranks fourth nationwide in veteran population, and Toomey has sponsored several bills aimed at serving war veterans.[15] He has also sponsored a large number of bills related to crime and law enforcement, and touts his ability to “keep Pennsylvania’s children and families safe.”[16]

Toomey’s challenger, Democrat Katie McGinty, is doing her best to associate him with the national Republican Party. McGinty is a former state and federal environmental official who was the Democratic establishment’s choice to challenge Toomey. In the Democratic Senate primary, she defeated second-time Senate candidate Joe Sestak and other rivals with the help of millions in funding from the party and endorsements from President Obama and other Democrats.[17]  In the general election, McGinty has tried to cast Toomey as another national Republican who is out of step with most Americans on issues like health care and guns.[18] Toomey has raised a significant amount of money in an attempt to counter that image. So far in the 2016 campaign, Toomey has raised nearly $23 million, while spending $15 million of that total, leaving about $8 million remaining in cash on hand.[19] His top contributor (as it was in 2010) is the Club for Growth, and the vast majority of contributors to his campaign are financial institutions. Katie McGinty has raised $6.7 million and spent $4.3 million to date.  Toomey has outspent McGinty by more than three to one thus far but is currently tied with her (within the margin of error) according to recent polls.[20]

Despite Toomey’s best efforts, intraparty factionalism could potentially hurt him in the general election, especially as it relates the 2016 presidential election. Undoubtedly aware of Donald Trump’s poor favorability ratings with general election voters, Toomey has publicly distanced himself from the Republican presidential nominee, did not attend the Republican Party nominating convention in Cleveland, and refrained from offering a clear endorsement. Instead, he only seems willing to say that he is “inclined” to support Trump, but at the same time lamented that Trump’s “vulgarity, particularly toward women, is appalling.”[21] While his 2010 campaign and his Senate career have thus far shown his ability to appeal to both conservative and moderate voters, Toomey risks alienating Trump supporters after Trump handily won the Pennsylvania Presidential primary in April. This factionalism within the Republican Party makes the general election doubly difficult on Toomey, as he must find a way to unite Republicans behind him in his effort to defeat Katie McGinty.

Matthew Quay: The Art of the Machine

Pennsylvania Republican Matthew Quay entered politics prior to the Civil War, serving as a state representative. After fighting in the war, Quay reentered state politics and began to make a name for himself in the state’s dominant Republican Party. From 1872 to 1882, Quay served as U.S. Senator Simon Cameron’s political lieutenant.[22] Cameron had built the Pennsylvania Republican political machine through political patronage, guaranteeing loyal party activists jobs in return for political support, and Quay was widely regarded as his heir apparent.

As a leader of the Republican machine and eventually as Senator, Quay was forced to contend with factionalism within his own party. One of his tasks as a party leader was to organize support for the machine’s preferred candidates in the U.S. Senate elections which were decided by state legislatures. In the 1881 U.S. Senate election, Quay’s job was to coalesce support behind the Republican machine’s preferred candidate, William Wallace. Republicans from the northern and western parts of the state, known as “bolters,” instead threw their support behind two other Republican candidates.

Under the indirect system of elections, each chamber of the state legislature met separately at the beginning of their legislative session to vote for senator; a candidate who received a majority in each chamber was declared the winner. If no candidate received a majority, the two chambers would meet jointly and vote until a winner was chosen or they adjourned for the year. In this case, the election lasted from January 19 to February 23, and took thirty-five joint session ballots to resolve.[23] On February 22, a subset of elite Republicans from both factions met and agreed to coalesce behind a compromise candidate, John Mitchell, and he was elected the next day. Later that week, an article in the New York Times revealed that Mitchell had closer ties to the Cameron machine than had been previously thought. Although Quay was unable to build a winning coalition for William Wallace, he was ultimately able to keep the seat in Republican hands with an alternate member of the Cameron machine.

Quay’s role in the party machine had continued to grow after the 1881 standoff, and he soon came to be recognized as its leader. A prolific fundraiser, Quay is credited with saying that politics was “the art of taking money from the few and votes from the many under the pretext of protecting the one from the other.”[24] Quay himself won election to the U.S. Senate in 1887 and served while maintaining a position of power in the statewide machine.

At the end of his second term, party factionalism returned to haunt Quay in his 1899 bid for reelection. Controversy emerged when the People’s Bank of Pennsylvania revealed that state monies invested in the bank were paying their interest directly to Quay, not to the state. Quay was arrested and put on trial almost at the same moment that the state legislature convened to elect a U.S. Senator.[25] Anti-Quay forces saw the scandal as an opportunity to unseat the incumbent senator. Gridlock ensued, however, when the strength of partisan loyalty expressed itself: not enough Republicans were going to abandon their party’s incumbent Senate candidate, and too few Democrats were willing to cross the aisle to deny Quay’s reelection if it simply meant the election of another Republican in his stead. After an incredible 79 ballots, the legislative session expired and the election ended in a deadlock. See https://repository.library.brown.edu/studio/item/bdr:352207/ for the actual ballots in the Pennsylvania Senate election.

The day after the legislature adjourned, Governor William A. Stone appointed Quay to fill the vacancy in the Senate caused by the deadlocked election. The U.S. Senate, however, quickly voted to deny Quay the seat due to the obviously dubious circumstances of his appointment. However, just as Pat Toomey ran for Senate again after losing to Specter in the primary, Quay returned in 1901 to run for the Senate seat that had been vacant since 1899. This time he successfully overcame party factionalism and won the election; Quay served as senator until his death in 1904.

It is clear, though, that Toomey and Quay share a different kind of electoral pragmatism. In the age of indirect elections and party machines, politicians needed to have party ties to wield power (which Quay clearly did) in order to be successful. In the modern age of direct elections, partisan polarization runs very deep, but 2016 is showing that individual senators must still be responsive to voter preferences and constituent interests in their home state. Even with the political differences between then and now, Republican Party factionalism still threatens the reelection of a U.S. Senator from Pennsylvania just as it did over 100 years ago. Though it bears remembering that the factionalism surrounding Quay was partly the result of his own corrupt actions, the circumstances surrounding Quay and Toomey serve as a reminder that party cohesiveness can be just as important to maintaining power as the institutional arrangement of elections.

Wendy J. Schiller is associate professor of political science and public policy at Brown University and author of Electing the Senate, along with Charles Stewart III. Stewart is the Kenan Sahin Distinguished Professor of Political Science at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

[1] Wendy J. Schiller and Charles Stewart III, Electing the Senate: Indirect Democracy before the Seventeenth Amendment (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014), 80.

[2] CSPAN, “Representative-Elect Pat Toomey” 1998 Washington Journal. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.c-span.org/video/?c4421922/rep-elect-pat-toomey.

[3] Patrick Kerkstra, “Pat Toomey is Surprisingly Moderate,” Philadelphia Magazine, July 26, 2012. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.phillymag.com/articles/surprisingly-moderate-pat-toomey/?all=1.

[4] Gregory Lewis McNamee, “Pat Toomey: United States Senator,” Encyclopedia Brittanica. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.britannica.com/biography/Pat-Toomey.

[5] Brooks Jackson and Stuart Rothenberg, “Toomey takes Pennsylvania’s 15th District for GOP,” CNN, November 3, 1998. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.cnn.com/ALLPOLITICS/stories/1998/11/03/election/house/pennsylvania.cd15/.  

[6] Manu Raju, “Specter’s Future Rests with Toomey,” Politico, December 10, 2008. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.politico.com/story/2008/12/specters-future-rests-with-toomey-016387.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Thomas Fitzgerald, “How Pat Toomey Outpaced Joe Sestak – and his own Campaign’s Expectations,” Philadelphia Inquirer, November 4, 2010. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://articles.philly.com/2010-11-04/news/24953233_1_toomey-campaign-manager-pat-toomey-democratic-victories.

[9] “Club for Growth” Accessed on June 28, 2016 at https://www.opensecrets.org/orgs/recips.php?id=D000000763&type=P&state=&sort=A&cycle=2010. Toomey received more than twice as many funds from the Club for Growth than any other Senate or House candidate in the 2010 cycle.

[10] John Baer, “Toomey’s Trouble isn’t Guns” Philadelphia Inquirer June 21, 2016. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://articles.philly.com/2016-06-21/news/73903763_1_pat-toomey-mass-shootings-guns.

[11] Toomey for Senate, Senator Toomey – A Record of Leadership. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at https://www.toomeyforsenate.com/about_pat .

[12] Harry Enten, “Conservatives in the House, then Moderates in the Senate,” FiveThirtyEight January 9, 2015. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://fivethirtyeight.com/datalab/conservatives-in-the-house-then-moderates-in-the-senate/.

[14] Toomey for Senate, Senator Toomey – A Record of Leadership. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at https://www.toomeyforsenate.com/about_pat .

[16] Toomey for Senate, Senator Toomey – Issues. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at https://www.toomeyforsenate.com/issues .

[17] Marc Levy, “Pennsylvania Democrats Pick Establishment’s Senate Candidate,” Associated Press, April 26, 2016. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://bigstory.ap.org/article/96ff050fe71a4f93991bc1fefa7fb236/pennsylvania-democrats-pick-establishments-senate-candidate.

[18] Katie McGinty for Senate  – Issues. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://katiemcginty.com/issues/.

[19] Opensecrets, “Sen. Pat Toomey – Summary.” Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.opensecrets.org/politicians/summary.php?cycle=2016&cid=N00001489&type=I.

[20] Opensecrets, “Summary Data: 2016 Race: Pennsylvania Senate.” Accessed on August 4, 2016 at http://www.opensecrets.org/races/summary.php?id=PAS1&cycle=2016; Laura Olson and J. Dale Shoemaker. “Pat Toomey walks ‘tightrope’ when it comes to responding to Trump’s remarks.” The Morning Call.  August 4, 2016.  Accessed at http://www.mcall.com/news/local/elections/mc-pa-toomey-trump-20160802-story.html.

[21] John Baer, “Sen. Toomey Straddles Fence on Trump Endorsement,” The Morning Call, May 11, 2016. Accessed on June 28, 2016 at http://www.mcall.com/opinion/mc-donald-trump-pat-toomey-yv-0512-20160511-story.html.

[22] Schiller and Stewart, Electing the Senate, 81.

[23] Ibid

[24] James A. Kehl, Boss Rule in the Gilded Age: Matt Quay of Pennsylvania (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1981), xiii.

[25] Schiller and Stewart, Electing the Senate, 84.


Jason Brennan: Justice isn’t “whatever democracy decides”

brennanThree cheers for democracy! Not so fast, says Jason Brennan, who argues that justice isn’t necessarily ‘whatever democracy decides’, and that participation in the political process all too often fails to produce citizens who are smarter, nobler, and more considerate of others. In his new book, Against Democracy, Brennan says democracy isn’t the only path to moral justice, and that it’s time to experiment with a new form of government called epistocracy. Recently, Brennan took the time to answer a few questions about his new book:

Your book is a response to a view you call “democratic triumphalism.” What is that view and what’s wrong with it?

JB: Triumphalism—a widely accepted set of conclusions—holds that democracy deserves three cheers. Cheer one: Political participation is good for us, makes us smarter, and produces fellow-feeling. Cheer two: We have a basic right to an equal share of political power. Cheer three: Democracy is a uniquely just form of politics.

I think democracy doesn’t deserve the first two cheers, and probably doesn’t deserve the latter. Politics is bad for us and we’re bad at politics.

Empirical work generally shows that participating in politics makes us worse: meaner, more biased, more angry. Ideally, I argue, we’d want to minimize our degree of political participation. Further, I examine about twelve major arguments for the claim that we’re owed the right to vote, and find them all lacking. In the end, the right to vote isn’t so much about giving individuals power over themselves, but power over others. The problem is that because individuals matter so little, most individuals use what little power they have unwisely. As a result, democracies tend to make bad decisions. Against the third chair, I suggest that epistocracy—a constitutional, republican form of government in which political power is to some degree, by law, apportioned according to competence—may outperform democracy.

What kind of value does democracy have, then?

JB: The best places to live right now are almost all liberal democracies. So, the point isn’t to argue that democracy is a disaster. But it’s not the end of history either. In my view, democracy has the same kind of value a hammer has. It’s an instrument for producing just and efficient outcomes, according to procedure-independent standards of justice. If we can find a better hammer, we should feel free to use it.

Some people deny there are procedure-independent standards of justice. Justice, they say, is whatever a democracy decides. But on reflection, I doubt anyone would accept that. Suppose the US has a referendum and unanimously votes to nuke Tuvalu. Or suppose 70 percent of voters decide to enact protectionist policies simply because they don’t understand economics. I don’t see either move as just.

We tend to treat the right to vote as a badge of honor, as a way of saying, “You’re a valuable member of our national club.” I think that’s a mistake. We should view the right to vote the way we view a fishing or plumbing license. We should view the president not as a majestic leader but as the chief public goods administrator. We need to downgrade the “status” we attach to political participation and power. If we did that, then differences in voting rights would carry no further stigma than the stigma I face for lacking a plumbing license.

You claim people have a “right to competent government.” What does that mean, and why think that?

JB: Political decisions are high stakes. They decide matters of life and death, peace and prosperity. Our decisions can deprive innocent people of life, liberty, and their rights, or greatly harm them.

Most of us think a jury owes the defendant (or owes the rest of us) a competent decision. They should decide a criminal trial by 1) being aware of the relevant facts, 2) processing those facts in a rational way, and 3) deciding on good faith rather than out of prejudice, malice, or bias. Similarly, I argue, any group that wields political power must act out competently and in good faith. Just as it would be unjust to enforce a jury decision if the jurors paid no attention to the fact and decided on whim, it would be unjust to enforce a vote made out of ignorance, misinformation, or whimsy.

Are democracies competent?

JB: Sixty years of empirical work show that mean, median, and modal levels of political knowledge among the electorate are low. In fact, voters aren’t just ignorant, but systematically misinformed about many issues, including simple issues like what the unemployment rate is, and complicated issues like basic economic theory. Further, empirical work shows that voters would have different policy preferences if they were better informed. In a world where every voter has high information, we’d never have an election between Trump and Clinton. We’d have better candidates.

That said, democracies do tend to have pretty good policies compared to, say, monarchies and oligarchies. But part of the reason for that is that democracies don’t just do what the people want. Instead, elites, parties, bureaucrats, and others have significant discretion to act against the will of the people.

Some political theorists have advanced ambitious arguments trying to claim that democratic electorates are highly competent as a whole even though most voters are ignorant. These arguments, however, are usually based on mathematical theorems that, while correct in principle, bear no resemblance to the reality of democratic behavior. For instance, Hélène Landemore’s book Democratic Reason (PUP 2012) isn’t a defense of any actual existing  or likely to exist democracy, but instead at most an argument about why democracies would be smart if only voters behaved in radically different ways.

Throughout the book, you talk about three species of voters: hobbits, hooligans, and Vulcans. What are these?

 JB: I use these as terms of art to describe three classes of voters. In the Lord of the Rings, Hobbits are simply folk who don’t care much about the outside world, and just want to eat, drink, and be merry. The political analogue would be a person who doesn’t care much about politics, doesn’t have strong opinions, doesn’t know much, and doesn’t participate much. Roughly half of Americans are political hobbits. Think the typical non-voter.

Hooligans are the rabid sports fans of politics. Consider: Soccer hooligans are pretty well informed about soccer, but they are biased and mean. They tend to be nasty toward fans from other teams. They only accept information that makes their team look good. Political hooligans are like that about Team Republican or Team Democrat. They have more information, and they participate frequently. But they are biased, and only accept evidence that confirms their own pre-existing views. They tend to think anyone who disagrees with them is mean or stupid. Roughly half of Americans are political hooligans. Think your typical activist or party member.

Vulcans are dispassionate, scientific thinkers. They have high knowledge, but are also aware of what they don’t know. They change their minds when the evidence calls for it. In the US, hardly anyone is a Vulcan.

Most political theories that defend democracy inadvertently do so by imagining how democracy would work if only we were all Vulcans (or on our way to becoming Vulcans). But we’re not Vulcans; we’re hobbits and hooligans. And so many proposals for making democracy better actually make it worse. For example, democratic deliberation not only fails to deliver the results political theorist say it would, but backfires.

 Your view is often criticized as elitist. What’s your response?

JB: We don’t say it’s elitist to think a plumber knows more about pipes than I do. We don’t think it’s elitist to say a truck driver knows more about driving than I do. But for some reason it seems elitist to say that I know more about economics than the average truck driver or plumber. Why? The issue here is that we treat truck driving and plumbing as low status, and political power as high status. But, I think, we should change that attitude. We should upgrade the status of non-political activities and downgrade the status of political activity. Once we do that, we can freely say something that’s, to be blunt, obviously true: The electorate doesn’t know what it’s doing, and putting so much power in the hands of a body that doesn’t know what it’s doing is dangerous.

Jason Brennan is the Robert J. and Elizabeth Flanagan Family Associate Professor of Strategy, Economics, Ethics, and Policy at the McDonough School of Business in Georgetown University. He is the author of  The Ethics of VotingWhy Not Capitalism? and Libertarianism.

Along with these books, Brennan is the co-author of Markets Without Limits, Compulsory Voting, and A Brief History of Liberty. He is a regular writer for the blog, Bleeding Heart Libertarians.



James Campbell: Just how polarized are our politics?

campbellThe United States of today is a divided nation, with two sides resting on opposite ends of a political spectrum.  James Campbell’s new book Polarized: Making Sense of a Divided America provides a new and historically grounded perspective on the polarization of America, systematically documenting exactly how and why the current divide came to be. James Campbell recently answered some questions about his book, what exactly has lead to such bitter disputes in the American system, and what this has meant throughout political history.

What is political polarization?

JC: Polarization concerns the level and organization of political conflict in society generally or between groups such as the political parties. Political differences can vary in severity and their relation to one another: cross-cutting or reinforcing. A high level of polarization is one in which there are substantial differences in political perspectives on a wide range of issues organized along an ideological spectrum. Polarization intensifies rather than diffuses conflict. It establishes an “us versus them” politics and it is always the same “us” at odds with the same “them.” High levels of polarization are the basis for bitter disputes, making political compromises more difficult to achieve.

What are Americans polarized about?

JC: The short answer is government. The extent and use of governmental powers is the underlying and organizing subject that causes two sides to be set up for most issues in American politics. It is the great divider setting up quite consistently “us versus them” sides in disputes about public policy. Those with liberal political inclinations tend to be more inclined to see problems as public in nature and best solved by the use of government powers and programs. Conservatives tend to take a more restrained or “last resort” view of the use of government. Views about government and individual responsibilities unify liberals and conservatives against each other.

Why is polarization even an issue? Don’t we know that Americans are polarized?

JC: Most political observers believe that the public and the parties are polarized, but many social scientists doubt that the public is highly polarized. Reviews of survey data of public opinion indicate that extreme views on issue questions are no more likely today than they were 40 years ago. This leads some to believe that polarization of the public is a myth. They suspect that activists and the political parties are polarized, but that the general public is predominantly moderate and not ideological. My research, however, presents evidence that the public is highly polarized, has been so for some time, and has become more so in recent decades. The political parties used to do a poor job representing these polarized views. The realigned parties of the last couple of decades, for better or worse, now represent and accentuate those polarized views.

How can Americans be ideologically polarized when research indicates that they are not very politically sophisticated or informed?

JC: There is no doubt that most Americans are not highly informed about politics or very sophisticated in their political thinking. This does not mean, however, that they cannot be ideological in the sense that they have some fundamental perspectives or values they apply to politics. Pretty much everybody has a sense about what they think is politically right or wrong and that is, at its core, what ideology is about. Unfortunately early studies of political thinking labeled the highest level of political conceptualization as ideological. But ideologies can be based on vastly different levels of political thought, from philosophies to gut instincts. If nothing else, knee-jerk liberals and wing-nut conservatives are both ideological.

How do you know that Americans are highly polarized?

JC: Good question. I examined the extent and change of polarization in the public using three types of evidence. The first was the direct evidence of how people identify their ideological perspectives–liberal, moderate, conservative, or they don’t know. The second type of evidence was the reported attitudes of the public on various public policy issues. In a sense, this is indirect evidence, since attitudes on the issues may reflect an underlying sense of political values and perspectives. The third type of evidence was circumstantial evidence. It is widely accepted that the political parties in government have become more polarized in recent decades. Assuming that this is the case, a largely moderate public would be expected to react to this change in the parties differently than a highly polarized public. A polarized public would likely respond better to more polarized parties than would a largely moderate public. The analysis of all three types of evidence supported the same set of conclusions: the American public was fairly well polarized in the 1970s and has become more so since then.

Did polarized politics develop from the top-down or from the bottom-up? Did political leaders and activists cause the public to become more polarized or did the public lead the way?

JC: The conventional view has been that the increase in polarization was a top-down process. The idea is that leaders are more sophisticated and attentive to political issues and, therefore, ahead of the curve when it comes to political change. At least in this instance, I found the opposite to be the case. The increased polarization of our political system was instigated by the increased polarization of the public in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The polarization of leaders lagged that if the public. Leaders are more attentive to political change, but elected leaders also have a vested interest in preserving the status quo and the tools (incumbency advantages) to help them do so. The lack of a viable Republican Party in the South also impeded a good deal of leadership change until the early 1990s. The public was not so encumbered. The increase in polarization, at least initially, was a bottom-up process.

James Campbell is UB Distinguished Professor of Political Science at the University at Buffalo, State University of New York. He is the author of such works as The American Campaign: U.S. Presidential Campaigns and the National Vote and The Presidential Pulse of Congressional Elections. His most recent book is Polarized: Making Sense of a Divided America.

Michaela DeSoucey: Bastille Day Appetizers

Michaela DeSoucey

desoucey jacketAmid the current political disarray caused by the recent Brexit vote and the ongoing refugee crisis, questions of what determines national identity are hot-button issues in France, and across Europe. Claims to national solidarity and shared symbols of national collective identity often rise to the fore on holidays. These appeals to unique histories and cultural practices are not just internal appeals to common descent or principles; they allege uniqueness vis-à-vis others and can trigger zeal toward a sense of belonging and pride in particular places.

Today is Bastille Day in France – the day that commemorates the July 14th, 1789 storming of the Bastille prison in Paris, which proved a turning point for the oncoming French Revolution and the declaration of a monarch-less French Republic. On this day, people around France will fête the French nation with parties and meals shared with family and friends. What will they eat, to represent this day? Symbolically and substantively, foods can offer multiple identity-laden markers for people and for groups. Eating is one way people demonstrate their political sentiments of national belonging and togetherness. Here in the U.S., for example, we eat turkey on Thanksgiving and call things “as American as apple pie.” Politicians on the campaign trail go out of their ways to be seen eating down-to-earth and local specialties (which can sometimes result in infamy, such as being seen eating a slice of New York pizza with a fork and knife).

Cuisine has long been one of France’s greatest sources of domestic and international pride. One food valorized as a quintessential symbol of French identity on the national plate is foie gras, the fattened liver of a duck or goose that has been manually force-fed with a tube. Foie gras is also a target of critical opposition, fueled by international animal rights organizations who call its production process cruel and inhumane.

In my new book, Contested Tastes: Foie Gras and the Politics of Food, I explore how foie gras came to represent French national culture and identity – a multifaceted process and a form of claimsmaking that I call ‘gastronationalism’ – and, for better or worse, what ramifications this has had. My book argues that these sentiments have developed at least in part because people elsewhere have challenged its very existence. In the last few decades, foie gras has been held up by France’s cultural and political leaders as an endangered tradition, at risk from the winds of globalization, Europeanization, and American cultural influences.

Foie gras has come to play a role in gastronational visions of Frenchness within France, too. In fact, the knot connecting foie gras and French identity has been tied so tightly that foie gras has even become a symbol used by some xenophobic political extremists aiming to draw starker lines around what they consider legitimate citizenship. When I was in France a decade ago, one of the country’s largest foie gras producers, Labeyrie, was targeted by several ultra-nationalist groups who condemned the company for marketing some of its foie gras products as halal, meaning suitable for consumption by Muslims. Their base complaint was that by paying a required certification fee to a French mosque to use a halal label, Labeyrie was funding Islamic worship and “taking the risk of supporting Islamic terrorism.” More to their point, it was marketing foie gras in France to people who these groups see as decidedly not French.

After several boycott threats and protests outside its shops, Labeyrie temporarily stopped using a halal label. They reverted the following year and were again subject to ultra-nationalist denunciations. The company was then criticized by members of France’s Muslim community – an estimated 6-7 million people seen by consumer product firms as an emerging and profitable market demographic – for being vulnerable to the pressures of right-wing media, because the company’s website, advertisements, and e-shop no longer showed images of halal foie gras labels, even though the products remained available in retail stores.

Yet, even with recent upsurges of social turmoil around race and religion, not everyone is on board with such a xenophobic mindset. Halal foie gras is now available all the time at national supermarkets and chain stores, produced by several different companies. And, multiple news outlets have reported on the rise of halal foie gras consumption among Muslims, especially upwardly mobile ones, in France over the last decade. Quotes from community leaders attribute this rise to desire for belonging in the category of ‘French’ and indicate popular perceptions that consuming foie gras is a meaningful way to do that.

Food and eating are, and continue to be, important sites where broader conflicts over national culture and identities manifest. In countries increasingly affected by political discord, I see food continuing to communicate both social acceptance and rejection of others. And on national holidays like Bastille Day, foie gras will likely be consumed as part of what it means to celebrate one’s country, or, at the least, its rapidly receding past.

Michaela DeSoucey is assistant professor of sociology at North Carolina State University. She is author of Contested Tastes.