Ed. Note: A slightly edited version of this post is available at my blog and at the day job.

Part I of III

When caught at something, I believe it’s always best to come clean. And so, I must admit that I’ve been caught by the Crow, who — in a post responding to my earlier post about power outages and our politics of powerlessness — saw where I’ve been going with some of my posts, and asks outright the obvious question I’ve approached and hinted at in previous posts.

Heath has written enough essays like this to make me think about the next questions, even though he avoids it in this essay. Is the GOP intentionally fostering this helplessness? To what end? For a party that pushes the entrepreneurial spirit what is the benefit of helpless masses? Are sheep easier to rule over if they are complacent?

It’s a question I’ve been thinking about for some time, while keeping to myself. But now that it’s been asked, why not have a go at it head-on, instead of dancing around it?

To begin with, I think it comes down to a fundamental difference between the left and the right — between conservatives and progressives — that’s really about how we answer three simple questions about responding to crises like the current recession or the Gulf oil disaster: "Can we?," "Should we?" and  "What do we mean, ‘We’?"

In the case of the first question, the respective answers of each side have been emblazoned on Barack Obama’s campaign posters and shouted on the floor of Congress by House Minority Leader John Boehner. "Yes, can," and "Hell no, you can’t."

It may be trite to begin an argument citing definitions, but it seems appropriate for a post about a major difference that defines progressives and conservatives. The dictionary on my Mac seems as good as any, and it defines conservative as follows:

a person who is averse to change and holds to traditional values and attitudes, typically in relation to politics.

And it defines progressive as follows:

1 a person advocating or implementing social reform or new, liberal ideas.

But the difference between the two was brought into sharper focus for me by two blog posts I read weeks apart. The first was brought to my attention by Athenae, via Digby. The post (aptly titled "No, We Can’t") was written by the National Review’s John Derbyshire, and stuck and oddly celebratory — in fact, almost gleeful — tone about the oil leak in the Gulf, and the possibility that the leak may be unstoppable.

As the writer says: "The very least damaging outcome as bad as it is, is that we are stuck with a wide open gusher blowing out 150,000 barrels a day of raw oil or more."

In slightly different words: The best we can hope for is that the thing just goes on gushing through the bore hole indefinitely. (Or until we can drill enough relief wells to reduce the pressure. Don’t hold your breath.)

I’m as horrified as anyone by this — if the guy has got it right, and I’ve understood him correctly. At the same time, as a constitutional pessimist, I’ll own to a certain grim satisfaction. The infantile optimism of post-JFK America may have met its match down there in the Gulf. Nature is not mocked.

My reaction was much the same as Athenae’s. (Tough not nearly as colorful.)

What kind of insulated, sheltered, non-reality reality do you have to be swimming around in that you can sit there and say that the killing of an ENTIRE OCEAN and the destruction of an ENTIRE THIRD OF THE DAMN COUNTRY’S ECONOMY would be okay because hey, then everybody will realize that Nixon was right and fuck Cambodia anyway and hippies smell?

You know, I was born in that post-JFK America, and optimism is something I’ve not seen. Is he basically saying that this will show all those Obama voters who were happy in Grant Park for five minutes? Is this anger at politically engaged, happy 20-somethings?

What, I wondered as well, did "infantile optimism" even mean? So I searched NRO for "infantile optimism," and found Derbyshire’s own definition of the term.

Optimism helped build this nation. Yes, we can clear the forest, tame the prairies, fight off the Indians. Yes, we can build heavier-than-air flying machines, land on the Moon, defeat fascism and communism. Yes, we can prosper without the horror and indignity of slavery. I am sure there were pessimists who said those things could not be done. They were wrong; and thoughtful persons, including thoughtful pessimists, knew at the time that they were wrong.

Today, however, American optimism has got completely out of hand. A corrective is needed. The corrective must come from conservatives, the people who understand that "human nature has no history." We must revive the fine tradition of conservative pessimism. In this age, optimism is for children and fools. And liberals.

Some children will be left behind. You cannot "remake the Middle East" or "defeat evil." The poor will always be with us. Black and white will never mingle together in unselfconscious harmony. Corporations will not research and explore without hope of profit. Russia will not become Sweden. Forty million immigrants speaking a single language will not assimilate.

Conservatives used to know all this. Some – the infallibly sapient Roger Kimball, for example – still do. The smiley-faces are leading us to perdition. They must be shouted down.

The sentiment in Derbyshire’s post isn’t new, of course. It’s something we’ve heard in previous disasters, and the victims they left behind. It’s something we heard in the odd ways conservatives responded to Katrina, just to name one example.

I filed Derbyshire’s post away as something to maybe write about later. Later came last month, when I read Paul Rosenberg’s post about why it’s so complicated to be a progressive. Rosenberg’s post offered two different definitions of progressive and conservative that also shed more light Derbyshire’s post, even though Rosenberg didn’t reference it.

I think that the primary difference between conservatives and progressives is that:

Conservatives believe in tribally-shared narrative myths that comfort them in perpetuating a world of inequality, while

Progressives believe in a universalist, critical-empirical approach to creating a world that works for everyone.

This is not an all-encompassing explanation. There are other important factors as well as a host of secondary ones. But I believe that this captures a "good enough" central core of the difference between the two worldviews. By its very nature, conservatism’s tribalism, focus on narratives, attraction to comfort and acceptance of hierarchy provide a strong impetus towards a relative simplicity of political self-concept.

The exact opposite is true of progressivism. The universalist tendency means everyone is invited in, and tribalism is always distrusted to some degree or other — even the idea of establishing a progressive identity. Having a critical-empirical approach means that what a given progressive individual or group believes is highly mutable, depending on the latest research — or at least, the latest information available to them, as it fits into their pre-existing understanding of the world.

Two things here. First, Rosenberg underscores a nuance that Derbyshire either misses or ignores. Derbyshire paints progressives as naive idealists pursuing a perfect world, so starry-eyed that they can’t see the the "real world" all around them, as clear-eyed conservatives — in Derbyshire’s view — obviously do. But, as Rosenberg spells out, it’s not a question of a perfect world vs.the "real world," but whether "better" is possible or the status quo is "good enough."

For progressives, the belief in a better world makes inevitable a moral responsibility to work towards achieving it. It means looking at situations as neither black nor white, but with an eye towards discerning what can be changed and ought to be changed through advocacy, social organizing and (yes) political action.

It’s that process of questioning the status quo, especially where new information calls the status quo into question, that has catalyzed the progressive movements — from the labor movement, to the women’s movement, the abolitionist movement, the civil rights movement, the LGBT movement, etc. — that strove for inclusion of those who were excluded from the status quo, and that led to the growth of the (now endangered) American middle class, the presidency of Barack Obama, and the gavel in Nancy Pelosi’s hand.

I’ll even go so far as to say that only progressive movements could have led to these changes, because of the very nature of progressivism, and how we answer that first question.  A conservatism primarily concerned with preserving the status quo could never and would never have produced them. In fact, the progressive movements responsible for these changes were opposed by conservative movement s that sought to preserve the status quo at the time, or return to the status quo of a previous era by reversing the successes of progressive movements.

Think about where we are now and how far we come from the birth of this country, when its promises were reserved for a narrow portion of its population. Yet, its principles provided the basis for ever progressive movement that had as its goal the extension of those promises to the full spectrum of the population.

And yes, they were progressive movements. By the very nature of their work, they could hardly be otherwise.

pro⋅gres⋅sive
/prəˈgrɛsɪv/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [pruh-gres-iv] Show IPA Pronunciation
–adjective
1.     favoring or advocating progress, change, improvement, or reform, as opposed to wishing to maintain things as they are, esp. in political matters

From the abolitionists movement, to the labor movement, to the suffragists movement, to the civil rights movement, to the feminist movement, to the LGBT movement; every progressive movement has advocated for change “as opposed to wishing to maintain things as they are.”

They were and are driven by individuals lending their strength and their hearts to bending the arc of the universe towards justice, because they are comprised of people for whom the status quo is the opposite of justice and people for whom injustice — even though visited upon others, and even though it affords them some privileges — is intolerable.

And in each case they were opposed by people for whom the status quo and its injustices were and had to be the natural order. People who were (and yes, I love to pick on this quote) standing athwart history yelling “Stop!”

They were yelling “Stop!” as every progressive movement above marched forward, pushing the envelope of change and expanding the the qualifications for full citizenship in this country and full membership in the human family. They were yelling “Stop!” as every one of those movements marched passed them towards freedom, enfranchisement, and equality.

It’s the very reason they were yelling "Stop!" as the country moved closer to determining whether millions of American’s having no access to quality, affordable health care was an injustice or merely unfortunate.

What does this matter? It matters, because an injustice and a merely unfortunate circumstance add up to to different levels of urgency. An injustice, to many people, is intolerable, and thus so is any delay in delivering justice.

For progressives health care reform is comparable to other movements for social change, like the civil rights movement, the women’s movement, or the LGBT movement. Each sought, and still seeks, to extend the basic rights of citizens and human beings to an ever wider spectrum of people than were afforded such by the status quo. Health care reform then, means health care for all. Not “health care for a bit more.” Progressives are less likely to see such as a victory.

All of these movements for social change came up against moderate voices that called for them to wait. Unlike conservatives, who “stand athwart yelling ‘Stop’,” moderates call for progressives to wait, to slow down the extension of equality, of civil rights, and of human rights — including the right to quality, affordable health care.

Often, but not always, these sentiments are expressed by people who are invested and included in and/or protected by the status quo that perpetuates the injustice progressives seek to address. What’s more, and this is something that separates them from conservatives, these sentiments come from moderates who claim to be on the side of justice, eventually; or at least not opposed to it, somewhere down the line.

They are all for it, but not just yet. They just want more time to think about it, to get used to it, and they’ll eventually come around. In the mean time, they want us to wait.

To challenge injustice, we have to challenge the status quo. To challenge the status quo, we must start out by questioning it. And when we question the status quo, it’s usually because we have witnessed conditions or circumstances that strike us as unjust. For progressives, the awareness of an injustice makes it imperative that we at least try to change it.

Letting injustice stand is not an option. That’s a major difference between the kind of progressivism Rosenberg describes, and what I call "complacent conservatism."

Being happy is a cinch, if you can rationalize not caring much about injustice and inequality.

Regardless of marital status, income or church attendance, right-wing individuals reported greater life satisfaction and well-being than left-wingers, the new study found. Conservatives also scored highest on measures of rationalization, which gauge a person’s tendency to justify, or explain away, inequalities.

The rationalization measure included statements such as: "It is not really that big a problem if some people have more of a chance in life than others," and "This country would be better off if we worried less about how equal people are."

To justify economic inequalities, a person could support the idea of meritocracy, in which people supposedly move up their economic status in society based on hard work and good performance. In that way, one’s social class attainment, whether upper, middle or lower, would be perceived as totally fair and justified.

If your beliefs don’t justify gaps in status, you could be left frustrated and disheartened, according to the researchers, Jaime Napier and John Jost of New York University. They conducted a U.S.-centric survey and a more internationally focused one to arrive at the findings.

It makes sense. If you can rationalize inequities as right and just, then no matter how bad things are for someone else, you can rest assured that things are just as they ought to be. So, naturally you’re not bothered by economic injustice. You’re not bothered by discrimination either.

… If you can rationalize your privilege, and rationalize related inequities on the flip-side, then you don’t have to change how you are in the world; because all is right with the world, no matter how bad it is for somebody else.

In fact, your privilege — whether it stems from your race, gender, sexual orientation, economic status, etc. — doesn’t even exit. The whole world is suddenly a meritocracy. What you have, you deserve, basically because you have it. And the "have-nots"? Well, if they deserved it, they’d have it.

…On the other hand, someone more liberal or progressive, and lacking such simple (not to mention self-serving) rationalizations for the inequities the witness might be more inclined to question — to ask why they exist and why they persist — and keep questioning until they reach a more challenging (and perhaps less self-serving, depending on their relative degree of privilege) answer, rather than simply accepting that they exist and that they persist because they ought to.

Essentially, progressives see injustice and ask "Why?". Conservatives, on the other hand, see in justice and ask "Why not?"

If you ask why, without settling for simplistic answers, you might conclude that inequity an injustice do not exist in a vacuum and do not persist according to some law of nature, but because they serve as the basis for the privileges of some, and thus the privileged perpetuate them in order to preserve their privileges. You might be inclined to believe, then, that inequities and injustices are not "inevitable" or "natural" and you might also be inclined to do something about them.

Derbyshire is of the brand of conservatism that, for example, says "the poor shall always be with us," in order to justify not only not bothering to anything about poverty (or unemployment, or hunger, etc.), but to also turn away from asking questions about and tracing the roots of poverty in various circumstances. It’s easier to say, "the poor will always be with us," and look away, especially if you’re not one of them. It’s easier to accpet the reality of racism and discrimination if you’re never likley to feel the impacts of either in your life.

It’s a brand of conservatism that is quite willing to let some injustices stand, if indeed it sees injustice at all. Some people will always be poor, so what’s the point in trying to save all of them? Some people will always be racist and there will always be some degree of discrimination, so what’s the point in strengthening or expanding civil rights legislation? Derbyshire’s brand of conservatism is likely to say "Stop!" to movements that seek to address injustices that it not only sees as inevitable and un-fixable. Better to let them stand than endanger the status quo with futile efforts to correct them. Utopia is a pipe-dream that cannot attained, and perhaps should not, be attempted.

Derbyshire’s "Stop!" is, then, slightly less bewildering than the moderates’ constant refrain of "Wait!"

Bewildering, because shallow understanding of the “why” of health care reform (unjust vs. unfortunate), inevitably has its basis in what King calls a “misconception of time,” and its role in social change. In fact, he might be speaking directly to present-day moderates whose exhortation to “Wait” is based in a belief in the inevitability of justice.

I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.

In other words, the man who said “Let us realize the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice,” would probably add that it bends not of its own accord, or because it can do no other — but because of countless hands reaching up to bend it towards justice sooner rather than later.

And, ultimately, that’s the moral question at the whole of the health care reform debate. Do we wait for the long moral arc of the universe to bend inevitably towards justice, or do we work to bend it ourselves?

The argument isn’t between reality and pefection, and it’s about whether something better than the status quo is possible and if so, whether we should keep striving for it. Progressives have answered both questions in the affirmative, and conservatives have answered both in the negative, not just now but across generations in which both have crossed the boundaries of political parties. Conservatism, embraced by those who have a comfortable spot in the status quo, have always "stood athward history yelling stop," just as progressivism often embraced by those who are disadvantaged by the status quo, pushes it’s boundaries — not in search of the prefect, but better.

Derbyshire paints progressives as believing in and striving for some kind of utopia — some kind of perfect world in which there is no prejudice, no poverty, no discrimination, etc. Of course, it’s not true. Progressives suffer no illusions about human nature, contrary to Derbyshire’s assertion. Entire reform movements have been based on the understanding that where people can take advantage of others for their own gain, some will. It’s the basis of understanding the need for regulation of industry. Corporate persons will act in their own self-interest, and those of their shareholders, if they have the resource and the economic/political ability to do so, at the expense of those who have little to no power to stop them.

Either a better world for everyone is possible or it isn’t. For progressives, if it’s possible, then working to achieve it — even if we’re comfortable and privileged within the status quo — is a matter of conscience. To do otherwise is to let injustice stand, and require people to continue to suffer injustice indefinitely and without remedy, simply to preserve a status quo that works for some (and perhaps not even most) of us.

Where we encounter injustice or inequity in the status quo, progressives ask "Can we bend ‘the moral arc of the universe’ further towards justice?" Conservatives, faced with the unjust or merely unfortunate realities of the status quo may ask themselves a similar question.

For progressives, even facing an uphill battle and possible defeat, the answer is always the same: Yes, we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics. They will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks and months to come. We’ve been asked to pause for a reality check; we’ve been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we’ve been told we’re not ready, or that we shouldn’t try, or that we can’t, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people.

yes we canYes we can. (break for cheering) Yes we can. (break for cheering) Yes we can.

It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail towards freedom through the darkest of nights.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality. Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity. Yes we can heal this nation. Yes we can repair this world. Yes we can.

Rosenberg effectively sums up at least one significant, difference between progressives and conservatives that Derbyshire (of course) never takes into account. And that will leads to the second question. It’s one that casts Derbyshire’s "No, you can’t" in a slightly different light. For even Derbyshire is aware that, yes, there much that can be done to address the problems even he is aware of and catalogs in his post.

Having answered the question, "Can we?", the next question is "Should we?" The obvious answer for progressives is "Yes, we should." For conservatives, even if we can, the clear answer is "No, we shouldn’t."

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