Cookies and Savvy Politics

Many years ago, when I first became what we now call a “straight ally,” working for equal rights for gays and lesbians, the only members of the community who were politically visible tended to be “in your face” activists. These were not people who appreciated nuance. Of course, this has been true of every political movement, from civil rights to women’s rights; they were started by the more passionate—okay, the more strident—members of the group suffering discrimination. As cultural attitudes changed and the mainstream became more receptive to the message, the movements themselves became more strategic. The movement for gay equality has been no different.

Case in point: a recent episode in Indianapolis, Indiana, involving—of all things—cookies.

The controversy occurred when “Just Cookies,” a bakery with a lease in the Indianapolis City Market, refused to fill an order for cookies with rainbow sprinkles. The order was placed by the local university’s gay rights organization, to celebrate Coming-Out Day. (The owner—clearly not the sharpest knife in the drawer—said he had two young daughters and couldn’t fill the order because he needed to model “morality” for them. I’m not sure what is immoral about rainbow sprinkles, and the daughters turned out to be college-aged, which certainly didn’t help, but bigotry is seldom logical.)

The City of Indianapolis has a human rights ordinance, passed relatively recently, that prohibits discrimination based upon sexual orientation, and there was an immediate hue and cry, accompanied by lots of publicity featuring individuals leveling accusations of discrimination. The Mayor’s office promised to investigate whether the Ordinance had been violated. That in turn animated the usual suspects—the local unit of the American Family Association among them—to leap to the defense of the owner and his right to his religious beliefs. It seemed likely that the controversy would devolve into the usual name-calling and righteous indignation, allowing the right-wing to generate anti-gay hostility and ramp up their fundraising.

But then, the gay community and its allies did something politically brilliant.

The sponsors of the Human Rights Ordinance and the presidents of two major gay rights organizations wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper. That letter made several points:

  • The Ordinance prohibits discrimination—for example, a refusal to sell cookies to gay groups or individuals.
  • The Ordinance does not—and constitutionally could not—require a business owner or individual to support a political cause with which he disagrees.
  • Just Cookies had never (to the authors knowledge) refused to sell cookies to gay people or groups; it had, however clumsily, declined to endorse a political position.
  • The authors strongly disagreed with the political position of the owner, but—echoing Voltaire—defended his right to hold that position. (To which they added the hope that those who disagreed with their advocacy of equality would be equally supportive of their rights.)

The letter was both legally correct and politically brilliant. The Indianapolis Star—never noted for a pro-gay-rights bias—ran a favorable front-page story and an editorial, the latter commending the gay community for its “graciousness.” Both the story and the editorial made the bigots look small and extreme. The electronic media followed suit. Rather than the typical “fringe vs. fringe” coverage such conflicts tend to generate, the gay community came out looking mainstream and reasonable, and the anti-gay activists were deprived of a favored tactic: accusing those of us who are pro-gay-rights of “religious bigotry.”

And at the end of the day, thanks to the amount and kind of publicity generated, a lot of people will demonstrate their disagreement with the owner’s political position—which he has every right to hold—by buying their cookies elsewhere. Which they have every right to do.

A consequence sweeter than cookies.

Game-Playing

When I was growing up, parents and teachers used to tell us “it isn’t whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game.” Honor was a higher goal than winning. Playing fair, displaying sportsmanship, generosity in winning and gallantry in losing were the goals. Adults worthy of our admiration and respect were those who modeled such behaviors.

Need I say that times have changed?

There has been a great deal written about the Shirley Sherrod fiasco, and plenty of egg for all the faces involved. A right-wing blogger and Fox News favorite, Andrew Breitbart, was evidently offended by the NAACP’s demand that the Tea Party denounce those among them who had exhibited racism. In another echo from my childhood—nah, nah, you’re a bigger one—he posted a videotape purporting to show a speech by Sherrod, an African-American employee of the Agriculture Department, in which it appeared she was sharing anti-White sentiments after receiving an award from the organization. The tape, it turned out, had been doctored—when viewed in its entirety, it was a heartfelt plea to get beyond racism of all varieties.

The elderly farmer who was the supposed object of her bigotry emerged to protest the smear; his wife told how Sherrod had actually saved their farm. Fox News, which had heavily promoted the Breitbart version, backpedaled. Before the whole story emerged, however, the Obama Administration demanded Sherrod’s resignation. No due process, no fact-checking, despite Sherrod’s long and distinguished tenure with the agency.

Let me suggest that none of this was really about accusations and denials of racism. It was about game-playing.

American politics has become so rancid, so sordid, that lying to advance one’s party is evidently considered a perfectly acceptable tactic—so acceptable that even those of us who try to follow the news and separate fact from convenient fiction find it increasingly difficult to know what is true and what isn’t.  Organizations like snopes.com and factcheck.org can help, but most of us haven’t the time to sit at our computers double-checking every “fact” uttered by self-serving politicians.

Historically, we relied upon the mainstream media to do our fact-checking. But in the mad dash for eyeballs and audience share, in the era of the 24-hour “news hole,” even the outlets trying to practice legitimate journalism too often fail to check the accuracy of the charges and countercharges that have all but entirely replaced principled policy debates.

And what about those we have elected, ostensibly to run the agencies of government? The saddest feature of contemporary politics is the wholesale abandonment of seriousness and policy expertise for game-playing.  And what an ugly game it is, where control of a day’s news cycle is more important than the destruction of a lifelong public servant’s reputation. 

It’s bad enough that these political operatives never learned the lesson that how you play the game is more important than winning or losing, but what is really depressing is that self-government has degenerated into a game to be played.

Worth Pondering

There has been a fascinating “book club” discussion about authoritarianism over at Talking Points Memo Cafe. This post, in particular, is worth thinking about. The observations of the book’s authors parallel several of the conclusions I reached in the research I did for my book God and Country:America in Red and Blue.

The question, of course, is–assuming these conclusions are correct–what do we do? How do we make our political discourse productive, and our governing institutions functional once more?

Progress and Its Discontents

In my most recent column for the Indianapolis Star, I reported on our city’s Pride celebration, and pointed to the immense progress that has been made since I began attending such events in 1992. As I put it,

“The crowd was huge, and broadly representative of the diversity of the gay community and those of us who support them. There were young people pushing strollers, old folks like us, and parents with teens. We saw doctors, lawyers and bankers—people who would have been terrified to attend seventeen years ago, when being “out” might mean losing a job—or worse, a family.

Today, when a quarter of the country’s population lives in states that recognize same-sex marriage or its functional equivalent, when polls show that people under thirty support gay civil rights by huge margins, the mood at events like Pride is less defiant and much more celebratory.”

All true. But when you are building a road to a desired destination, it is sometimes necessary to erect appropriate caution signs.

When I first got involved in activism on behalf of equal rights for the GLBT community, much of the community’s political outreach was—let me be kind here—dysfunctional. Most of the reasons for the personal agendas and petty backbiting were understandable, albeit terribly unhelpful, and not much different than behaviors exhibited by people in any marginalized community. (Fights over crumbs, for some reason, tend to be more vicious.) Other behaviors seemed more specific to the gay community.

It is, let’s be honest, a community with many very wounded people. One reason for that, I think, is that while other minority groups may be despised and subjected to discrimination, children in those groups at least grow up with role models. When I grew up Jewish in a small, non-too-tolerant Indiana town, I looked to my parents for clues about what it meant to be Jewish, and for positive reinforcement of my human value. Gays growing up in repressive communities have until very recently had no such models. As a consequence, a lot of GLBT youngsters grow into very needy adults—and needy adults seldom make good movement soldiers. They have trouble subordinating their personal agendas to the needs of the community.

The considerable progress that has been made over the past two decades is largely the result of a recognition of that reality by the gay community. In a very real way, and for a multitude of reasons, the activists in the community grew up. Ostensible disputes over strategy morphed into genuine disputes over strategy, rather than thinly veiled efforts to be important. It was an important turning point that made much of the subsequent progress possible.

So why am I saying we need to erect a “Caution” sign? Because here and there, there is evidence that some of the old dysfunction is resurfacing.

Look at what happened in California. If we are honest, the fight over Proposition 8 was the community’s to lose. Yes, the Mormon Church and others put up a lot of money, but as late as mid-October, polls showed that “No on Prop 8” was winning by a comfortable margin. But as the people involved readily admit, the discord and squabbling among the various gay rights groups charged with defeating Prop 8 got in the way of effective political action.

More recently, there have been some very unseemly charges and counter-charges echoing through gay cyberspace over action and inaction by the Obama administration. Disappointment is understandable, disagreement inevitable, but the shrillness of some of the arguments and accusations has been distinctly unhelpful.

Even in my local community, there have been persistent efforts by some bloggers to mischaracterize and undermine Indiana Equality, a coalition of gay advocacy organizations that has been very effective in bringing different perspectives to the table and advancing the cause of gay equality. (Indiana is one of the very few “bible buckle” states that did not pass a constitutional amendment prohibiting same-sex marriage; preventing that passage wasn’t just luck. As someone who was privy to some of the strategic decisions involved, I can attest that it took a lot of hard work by a lot of savvy people.)

Let me be clear about what I am saying, and what I am not saying. I am absolutely not suggesting that people who disagree with a position or a strategy shut up and go away. Civil disagreement and argumentation are always appropriate. The best decisions are made when different points of view are aired and a broad array of interests is at the table.

What I am saying is the obvious: there is constructive criticism and then there is bitching—and efforts to undermine those with whom you disagree, even when it makes achieving common goals more difficult.

There was a lot of that bitching and backbiting seventeen years ago. To regress to it now, when so much progress has been made, would be tragic.

In my most recent column for the Indianapolis Star, I reported on our city’s Pride celebration, and pointed to the immense progress that has been made since I began attending such events in 1992. As I put it,

“The crowd was huge, and broadly representative of the diversity of the gay community and those of us who support them. There were young people pushing strollers, old folks like us, and parents with teens. We saw doctors, lawyers and bankers—people who would have been terrified to attend seventeen years ago, when being “out” might mean losing a job—or worse, a family.

Today, when a quarter of the country’s population lives in states that recognize same-sex marriage or its functional equivalent, when polls show that people under thirty support gay civil rights by huge margins, the mood at events like Pride is less defiant and much more celebratory.”

All true. But when you are building a road to a desired destination, it is sometimes necessary to erect appropriate caution signs.

When I first got involved in activism on behalf of equal rights for the GLBT community, much of the community’s political outreach was—let me be kind here—dysfunctional. Most of the reasons for the personal agendas and petty backbiting were understandable, albeit terribly unhelpful, and not much different than behaviors exhibited by people in any marginalized community. (Fights over crumbs, for some reason, tend to be more vicious.) Other behaviors seemed more specific to the gay community.

It is, let’s be honest, a community with many very wounded people. One reason for that, I think, is that while other minority groups may be despised and subjected to discrimination, children in those groups at least grow up with role models. When I grew up Jewish in a small, non-too-tolerant Indiana town, I looked to my parents for clues about what it meant to be Jewish, and for positive reinforcement of my human value. Gays growing up in repressive communities have until very recently had no such models. As a consequence, a lot of GLBT youngsters grow into very needy adults—and needy adults seldom make good movement soldiers. They have trouble subordinating their personal agendas to the needs of the community.

The considerable progress that has been made over the past two decades is largely the result of a recognition of that reality by the gay community. In a very real way, and for a multitude of reasons, the activists in the community grew up. Ostensible disputes over strategy morphed into genuine disputes over strategy, rather than thinly veiled efforts to be important. It was an important turning point that made much of the subsequent progress possible.

So why am I saying we need to erect a “Caution” sign? Because here and there, there is evidence that some of the old dysfunction is resurfacing.

Look at what happened in California. If we are honest, the fight over Proposition 8 was the community’s to lose. Yes, the Mormon Church and others put up a lot of money, but as late as mid-October, polls showed that “No on Prop 8” was winning by a comfortable margin. But as the people involved readily admit, the discord and squabbling among the various gay rights groups charged with defeating Prop 8 got in the way of effective political action.

More recently, there have been some very unseemly charges and counter-charges echoing through gay cyberspace over action and inaction by the Obama administration. Disappointment is understandable, disagreement inevitable, but the shrillness of some of the arguments and accusations has been distinctly unhelpful.

Even in my local community, there have been persistent efforts by some bloggers to mischaracterize and undermine Indiana Equality, a coalition of gay advocacy organizations that has been very effective in bringing different perspectives to the table and advancing the cause of gay equality. (Indiana is one of the very few “bible buckle” states that did not pass a constitutional amendment prohibiting same-sex marriage; preventing that passage wasn’t just luck. As someone who was privy to some of the strategic decisions involved, I can attest that it took a lot of hard work by a lot of savvy people.)

Let me be clear about what I am saying, and what I am not saying. I am absolutely not suggesting that people who disagree with a position or a strategy shut up and go away. Civil disagreement and argumentation are always appropriate. The best decisions are made when different points of view are aired and a broad array of interests is at the table.

What I am saying is the obvious: there is constructive criticism and then there is bitching—and efforts to undermine those with whom you disagree, even when it makes achieving common goals more difficult.

There was a lot of that bitching and backbiting seventeen years ago. To regress to it now, when so much progress has been made, would be tragic.