Many years ago, I had an enlightening conversation with friend active in Libertarian politics. He was trying to recruit candidates who would appeal to Republicans who were becoming disenchanted with the culture warriors who had seized control of the GOP. He saw a window of opportunity for the Libertarians–if they could moderate some of their positions just a little, they could take advantage of that window and substantially increase their share of the vote. The problem was, the party’s core–the absolutists–were unwilling to move even a little toward the middle, and keeping their pro-gun, pro-gold-standard, anti-public-schools base was critical to any electoral success. So the window closed.
Today’s GOP finds itself in an analogous position. The party has come to depend upon an aging, angry base that repels not only women, immigrants and minorities, but increasingly, younger Americans. It’s caught between that same rock and hard place that has kept the Libertarians from achieving mainstream status.
The party’s establishment has now realized the problem, but solving it is going to be another thing entirely.
I’m beginning to wonder whether GLBT folks are today’s canaries in the coal mine.
For those of you unfamiliar with the canaries’ function, the phrase refers to the fact that well into the 20th century, coal miners would bring canaries into the mines to serve as early-warning signals for toxic gases, primarily carbon monoxide. The birds were more sensitive to the presence of the gas, and would become sick before the miners had been exposed to dangerous levels.
I began to consider this (admittedly odd) analogy yesterday, when members of the Indiana General Assembly—as retrograde a group as one could find outside, perhaps, Mississippi or Alabama—announced that they would not hold a vote during this year’s session on a measure to amend the Indiana Constitution by inserting a ban on same-sex marriage.
Only those of us who have lived in Indiana the past few years can appreciate the magnitude of this announcement. Legislative homophobia has been a given, and the prospects for this particular piece of bigotry had been considered bright. Those of us who oppose the measure had pretty much settled for strategies meant to “kick the can down the road.” (Indiana is one of those states where amending the constitution is difficult; a proposed amendment must be passed in identical form by two separately elected legislatures, after which it goes to the public in the form of a referendum. Opponents focused on getting changes in some of the more ambiguous and mean-spirited language of the proposed amendment; changing the language would at least delay what seemed inevitable.) The working assumption has been that the ban was a slam-dunk to emerge from the General Assembly, and that an eventual public vote would likely lodge discrimination solidly in the state’s charter.
The legislature can still vote on the ban during next year’s session, of course. But the postponement is significant.
Consider the context: The 2012 election ushered in Republican super-majorities in the Indiana House and Senate. Worse, we’ve elected a dyed-in-the-wool culture warrior as Governor. In the wake of the election, prospects for defeating or even delaying the ban looked even more hopeless than before.
But that’s where it gets interesting. A couple of statewide polls show a solid majority of Hoosiers—whatever their position on same-sex marriage—oppose amending the constitution. The U.S. Supreme Court has accepted two significant cases, one involving a challenge to DOMA, and one an appeal of California’s Proposition Eight. The President was re-elected handily, even after his very public endorsement of marriage equality.
What seems to be a sea change on gay rights issues increasingly seems to be only part of the story, a leading indicator of a broader social/political shift that is just becoming visible.
Here’s my current analysis (and it’s worth every penny you are paying for it—in other words, nothing): The upheavals we now refer to as “the sixties” created an enormous backlash. All of a sudden, there were uppity black folks, bra-burning feminists, anti-war activists and other troublemakers undermining the natural order of things. Those various movements—womens’ movement, civil rights movement, antiwar movement—permanently changed American society, but they also engendered huge resentment and push-back. That backlash ushered in the so-called “Reagan revolution,” and energized the culture warriors and “family values” organizations.
Just as the 60s movements became excessive, and spawned reaction, the GOPs rightward march has now gone much too far. Women, minorities, young people and reasonable, moderate Republicans are abandoning the party in droves. Except for a remaining fringe of old white Southern heterosexual men, Americans have become comfortable with diversity and the other results of the disorienting sixties—at the same time they are getting increasingly uncomfortable with the extremism and “us versus them” worldview of today’s conservatives.
Gays are among the first to benefit from what I think is beginning: a swing back from the precipice, and a long-overdue reconsideration of what America should look like.
The Saturday after next–February 16th–IUPUI’s alumni association is sponsoring a day-long event called “Weekend U.” I’m one of the presenters, and usually when I participate in something like this, I go, give my two-cents-worth at the designated time, and leave. But the breakout sessions on offer look so interesting, I am planning to stay and attend.
The theme of the day is “Competing for Your Attention,” and the various breakouts focus on elements of our social landscape that are constantly doing just that. There’s one titled ” What do ‘Free!’ ‘Grande’ ‘One Day Only!’ checked luggage fees and Subprime Mortgages have in Common?” There’s another that tackles the question “Are we Alone Together?”
One that I’m definitely interested in has the provocative title, “Liberals Roll with the Good; Conservatives Confront the Bad: Physiology and Cognition in Politics.” It promises a look at research suggesting that some political beliefs are based in biological responses.
A more practical breakout will address message design in an environment where everyone is competing for attention. There are several others that really look interesting.
My own session is: “What Do We Know and Who Can We Trust? Filters, Fact-Checkers and Our Rapidly Morphing Media.” It’s at noon, for those interested in attending–right before the luncheon keynote by Karen Crotchfelt, current publisher of the much-diminished Indianapolis Star.
The role and function of universities is increasingly a topic of discussion, and there is plenty to discuss. College costs have soared, student loan debt is at an all-time and dangerous high, and people are asking–reasonably–whether the product is worth the cost. The standards for making that determination are frequently misplaced; I’ve posted before my own frustration with those who see no difference between education and job training.
Meanwhile, state legislators routinely issue critiques and mandates. (This shouldn’t surprise those of us in higher education, since the General Assembly evidently considers itself a 150-person school board for K-12. This year it’s thou shalt teach cursive. A few years ago it was phonics.) Some of those legislative critiques are justified; most state universities could do with a leaner, meaner administrative structure. Many others betray an appalling lack of understanding of what a university is about.
One question that doesn’t seem to occur to these legislative overlords is: why should they have the ability to dictate university policies at all?
The assumed response to such a question is “because those institutions are supported by the state. It’s the Golden Rule: he who has the gold, rules.” But that assumption is getting thin indeed. State support is currently 11% of the budget at my university, and we are no anomaly. The vast majority of our funding comes from other sources: primarily tuition and fees, research grants, and fundraising.
This situation raises an interesting question: when do state universities cease being public? At what point does it make more sense for an institution of higher education to assess the considerable costs imposed by legislative mandates, compare those costs to the dwindling benefits of state financial support–and declare themselves private?
When children become self-supporting, they can declare themselves emancipated.
According to a post in Daily Kos, in 2010, 42 percent of the electorate self-identified as conservatives, while only 20 percent self-identified as liberals. By 2012, the gap had narrowed to a historic low, with only 35 percent of the Obama-Romney electorate calling themselves conservative, and a full quarter of the electorate (25 percent, the high water mark for the modern era), self-identifing as liberal.
These numbers are intriguing, although I doubt seriously that they signal a shift in political orientation. My theory (for many years now) has been that political terminology lacks much actual content–that the words used to self-describe political philosophy tell us very little about the actual policy preferences of the person using them. What they do tell us is which party that person identifies with. “I’m more like these people and less like those people.”
In other words, in a world where Republicans are seen frugal and self-reliant and Democrats are seen as welfare moochers and members of despised minorities, lots of voters will identify with Republicans. If, on the other hand, Democrats are seen as inclusive citizens who care for the well-being of their communities and Republicans are seen as selfish and bigoted, more people will identify as Democrats.
Credible research into the actual policy preferences of the electorate suggests that Americans are moderately progressive, very supportive of social programs like social security and Medicare, uneasy with abortion but unwilling to reverse Roe v. Wade, and increasingly willing to extend equal rights to GLBT citizens. To the extent that the Democratic party has been able to frame its message to align with those positions, more voters have identified with it. But the real shift hasn’t been better framing by the Democrats; it has been disastrous framing by Republicans.
Whatever one’s views about the actual policies pursued by Ronald Reagan, his GOP was a sunny, affirming party. To use today’s (unfortunate) terminology, it was all about how celebrating the “makers” would benefit the “takers” and all Americans would be better off. Today’s Republicans have painted a very different picture, a picture of a party that believes that the so-called makers are entitled to piss on the so-called takers.
The current image of the GOP–fair or unfair–is of a party unwilling to accept science, unwilling to allow women to make our own reproductive decisions, unwilling to extend equal rights to gays or any path to citizenship to immigrants. In short, it is an image of mean-spiritedness if not outright bigotry.
As a result, the term “conservative” no longer means “prudent and responsible.” And the term liberal–a term Republicans have trashed for at least a quarter of a century–no longer seems like an epithet.
