Dec 29 JDN 2458847
The “polarization” of our current government has been much maligned. And there is some truth to this: The ideological gap between Democrats and Republicans in Congress is larger than it has been in a century. There have been many calls by self-proclaimed “centrists” for a return to “bipartisanship”.
But there is nothing centrist about compromising with fascists. If one party wants to destroy democracy and the other wants to save it, a true centrist would vote entirely with the pro-democracy party.
There is a kind of politics that can be bipartisan, that can bear reasonable compromise. Most economic policy is of this kind. If one side wants a tax of 40% and the other wants 20%, it’s quite reasonable to set the tax at 30%. If one side wants a large tariff and the other no tariff, it’s quite reasonable to make a small tariff. It could still be wrong—I’d tend to say that the 40% tax with no tariff is the right way to go—but it won’t be unjust. We can in fact “agree to disagree” in such cases. There really is a reasonable intermediate view between the extremes.
But there is also a kind of politics that can’t be bipartisan, in which compromise is inherently unjust. Most social policy is of this kind. If one side wants to let women vote and the other doesn’t, you can’t compromise by letting half of women vote. Women deserve the right to vote, period. All of them. In some sense letting half of women vote would be an improvement over none at all, but it’s obviously not an acceptable policy. The only just thing to do is to keep fighting until all women can vote.
This isn’t a question of importance per se.
Climate change is probably the single most important thing going on in the world this century, but it is actually something we can reasonably compromise about. It isn’t obvious where exactly the emission targets should be set to balance environmental sustainability with economic growth, and reasonable people can disagree about how to draw that line. (It is not reasonable to deny that climate change is important and refuse to take any action at all—which, sadly, is what the Republicans have been doing lately.) Thousands of innocent people have already been killed by Trump’s nonsensical deregulation of air pollution—but in fact it’s a quite difficult problem to decide exactly how pollution should be regulated.
Conversely, voter suppression has a small, if any, effect on our actual outcomes. In a country of 320 million people, even tens of thousands of votes rarely make a difference, and the (Constitutional) Electoral College does far greater damage to the principle of “one person, one vote” than voter suppression ever could. But voter suppression is fundamentally, inherently anti-democractic. When you try to suppress votes, you declare yourself an enemy of the free world.
There has always been disagreement about both kinds of issues; that hasn’t changed. The fundamental rights of women, racial minorities, and LGBT people have always been politically contentious, when—qua fundamental rights—they should never have been. But at least as far as I could tell, we seemed to be making progress on all these fronts. The left wing was dragging the right wing, kicking and screaming if necessary, toward a more just society.
Then came President Donald Trump.
The Trump administration, at least more than any administration I can remember, has been reversing social progress, taking hardline far-right positions on the kind of issues that we can’t compromise about. Locking up children at the border. Undermining judicial due process. Suppressing voter participation. These are attacks upon the foundations of a free society. We can’t “agree to disagree” on them.
Indeed, Trump’s economic policy has been surprisingly ambivalent; while he cuts taxes on the rich like a standard Republican, his trade war is much more of a leftist idea. It’s not so much that he’s willing to compromise as that he’s utterly inconsistent, but at least he’s not a consistent extremist on these issues.
That is what makes Trump an anomaly. The Republicans have gradually become more extreme over time, but it was Trump who carried them over a threshold, where they stopped retarding social progress and began actively reversing it. Removing Trump himself will not remove the problem—but nor would it be an empty gesture. He is a real part of the problem, and removing him might just give us the chance to make the deeper changes that need to be made.
The House agrees. Unfortunately, I doubt the Senate will.