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9 October 2024

Ordinary People, Ordinary Vices: Notes on Rational Irrationality in an Age of Ignorance

JANICE CHAN

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On the eve of the Brexit referendum, Google’s second most-searched topic revealed a frantic uncertainty lurking beneath the polished veneer of the British electorate —“What is the European Union?”— an important but overdue question which was soon eclipsed by a more urgent inquiry: “What does it mean to leave the European Union?” In similar fashion across the pond, a recent CBS/YouGov poll revealed that only 35% of Republican voters interviewed were aware of Donald Trump’s indictment, and that 34% of the Republican focus group deny that he had even been indicted at all for his attempt to hinder the peaceful transfer of power. 

 

Trump has since been found guilty of all 34 charges of falsifying business records, alleging he was involved in a scheme that sought to cover up extramarital affairs in advance of the 2016 presidential election. To many of his supporters, this verdict is irrelevant. This phenomenon is not confined solely to a singular position on the political spectrum - Yale reported that while 92% of Democrats supported the Green New Deal, 82% of registered voters had heard ‘nothing at all’ about the Deal

 

Even in an age of limitless information (although oftentimes of dubious quality), functional literacy levels cannot be assumed. You may wonder, how has the cultural consciousness evolved as a result of this? With traditional media taking a backseat from being the predominant source of information on politics and society with its replacement by platforms such as Instagram, TikTok and Facebook, I am curious as to what extent politicians are still able to limit the ways in which citizens engage with political knowledge. What sort of profile does the ‘modern voter’ possess, and does it meet the requirements of a functioning democracy? 

 

I am inclined to think that the ignorance in question is not simply a lack of information- rather it is a curated absence, an indifference cultivated and nourished by the structures that benefit from it. The uninformed voter is an important character in the theatre of politics, oftentimes easily swayed by the spectacle and becoming a pawn in a game whose rules they barely understand. A recurring figure of our times, the uninformed voter is no relic of the past, and instead stands as a testament to the enduring challenge of ensuring that the electorate is an active participant in the democratic project; rather than a passive recipient of populist rhetoric. Turn to the memefication of politicians – Kamala Harris’ coconut tree, Boris Johnson’s zip wire and even the toolmaker’s charisma-void son, Keir Starmer, who falters in his lacklustre but valiant attempt at persona-curation.

 

We are afforded occasional glimpses of clarity against the backdrop of alluring demagoguery; as the myth of the informed voter tirelessly trawling through policy papers and parsing the nuances of debate continues to remain a fantasy. In reality, governments continue to manipulate and distract us from important conversations, lulling us into accepting the systems that continue to subjugate us.

 

Understanding the Architecture of Manufactured Consent

 

Political ignorance has long been a tool plied by those who understand that an uninformed electorate is an asset. Whilst blending politics and pop culture can increase engagement, this can also frame politics as entertainment, undermine accountability and contribute to the oversimplification of complex issues.

 

Mass media outlets played a crucial role in amplifying fear surrounding weapons of mass destruction (WMDs), shaping public opinion and manufacturing consent during the lead-up to the Iraq War. The U.S. and its allies relentlessly pushed the sensationalist narrative that Saddam Hussein’s alleged arsenal of WMDs posed an imminent threat, creating a climate of fear that rallied public and political support for military action. By framing the invasion as a necessary pre-emptive strike, the WMD narrative diverted attention from geopolitical and economic motives, reducing critical scrutiny from the public.

 

In a relevant yet extreme example, we can take a look at how the Nazi party exploited mass media as an avenue for creating consent for anti-Semitic policies. As Hannah Arendt wrote ‘what convinces masses are not facts, and not even invented facts, but only the consistency of the system of which they are presumably part.’ 

Films like the 1940 propaganda piece Jud Süss perpetuated anti-Semitic stereotypes and depicted Jewish people as an existential threat to the German nation, thus furthering public support at the time for horrifying discriminatory policies and social exclusion. Similarly, Triumph of the Will (1935) glorified the Nazi Party, stirring nationalistic fervour and normalising the regime’s violent ideologies. These films demonstrate how art can be exploited by political actors as a mechanism to shape public perception, subtly paving the way for the acceptance of radical ideas and building support for brutal policies through framing the most oppressive ideologies as palatable to the general public.

 

In recent times, social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram have become crucial in rallying support for global causes, from the Free Palestine movement to Bangladesh’s 2024 quota reform and Congo’s cobalt mine labour abuses. The unfiltered flow of information has fostered a new scepticism amongst young people, sharpening their awareness of traditional media’s limitations, whilst bypassing the controls of autocratic regimes. Facebook's role in Egypt's 2011 Arab Spring protests and the use of Telegram and Instagram in Hong Kong’s 2019 protests highlight the discreet mobilising power of digital activism and its ability to evade government censorship and surveillance.

 

It becomes a double-edged sword when pop culture finds its way into the political bloodstream. This summer, many Democrats in America rallied behind Kamala Harris following her announcement as Biden’s potential successor. A perhaps unlikely voice nonchalantly found her way into the political bloodstream. British pop star Charli XCX, with her culturally powerful endorsement ‘kamala IS brat,’ marked a moment where the cultural and the political coalesced. The relationship is a fraught one. The danger of allowing politicians to slip into the crevices of pop culture lies in reducing governance to a form of performance, where the line between leadership and celebrity blurs, distracting us from holding politicians accountable and rendering us easily mystified by spectacle rather than substance; persona rather than policy. 

 

Our Demand for Irrationality

 

Rational irrationality, as coined by Bryan Caplan, describes the phenomenon where behaving in a way that defies reason can actually be quite sensible, given certain circumstances. This paradox arises when such behaviour brings about favourable outcomes, enabling the individual to gain social capital and aligning beliefs with desires. Fundamentally this creates a marketplace for irrationality, where illogical behaviour becomes not just accepted but expected. After all, in a world where believing nonsense costs you nothing, why bother with facts? This is an age where flat-earthers star in documentaries and celebrities lecture us on climate change from their private jets. We are victims of ‘duration neglect,’ or where our memories of political events rarely extend beyond a few months, rendering it nearly impossible to evaluate political performance or policies over a Prime Minister's term. The democratic process then feels less like a deliberate, informed choice and more like a large-scale coin toss, creating a fertile ground for exploitation by various interest groups.

 

More importantly, the pervasive influence of private money is impossible to ignore. This is an incredibly alienating and disenchanting phenomenon, causing disconnect between the state and the individual due to a lack of transparency. DeCanio suggests that states operate with autonomy, implementing policies that do not merely reflect popular demands or electoral pressures. Voter ignorance facilitates this, as an uninformed electorate cannot effectively influence decisions, thus undermining the democratic spirit. Ilya Somin believes that continuing to stay politically ignorant is the most rational outcome- as the amount of effort and input required to cast an informed vote cannot be a worthy endeavour when considering the output – which statistically only presents the average American voter (taking a median across the states in consideration of the electoral college) a one in sixty million chance of making a difference in a Presidential election. And so we retreat to the womb-like comfort of our echo chambers, where politics becomes an interest to many complete with merchandise, memes, and the reassuring hum of confirmation bias.

 

The Disenchanted Doomer Meets Millennial Malaise

 

Democratic disconnect is at an unprecedented high, burgeoning as a result of democracies failing to deliver outcomes that matter for young people in recent years. A 2022 study by the UK Parliament reports that 60% of 18-25 year olds believe that politicians do not care what ‘[people like us]’ think. Notably, the total distrust of those in power and the thanklessness of engaging in politics cannot be overlooked. Rooted in decades of scandal, corruption and disillusionment, continuing to engage earnestly in electoral politics becomes a case of betting on losing dogs. 

 

Aside from the clear disconnect between the youth and the government, young people are also suffering from a classic case of alienation, the Marxist idea that refers to the estrangement of individuals from their work, products and sense of self in a capitalist society. Notably, this extends to people’s interactions with digital spaces, with the rise of behaviours such as ‘doomscrolling.’ These behaviours are indicative of a sense of powerlessness and disconnection in people’s online and offline lives, undermining democratic engagement by fostering a feeling of apathy, thus producing a generation that feels increasingly detached from the mechanisms that control their own lives.

 

This nihilistic disillusionment seems to have made its way into other facets of our cultural consciousness, creeping into the digital space and reflected in popular media. Take ‘The Doomer' for example. 

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A popular archetypal character often appearing as the main subject of Gen Z memes, the Doomer is characterised by his distinctively dishevelled appearance, with pallid skin and sunken eyes lined with exhaustion. The look is completed by an apathetic, self-loathing attitude along with a general disenchantment with life. ‘Ennui,’ the French term for tiredness, boredom and dissatisfaction, marks a distinct sort of feeling rippling through today’s youth. Unlike previous instances of generational boredom like the recently-revisited ‘housewife syndrome’ in the 1950s- which contributed to the rise of second wave feminism and 1968 uprisings against stultifying and repetitive labour- ennui exists more as an individualistic abstraction, finding its voice in the most unexpected places. Take Inside Out 2, where peppy, animated emotions grapple with monotony, and Severance, Ling Ma's debut novel which perfectly captures the existential dread of millennial ennui through satirising the lifestyle choices of the New York yuppie. A sardonic critique of late-stage capitalism and globalisation wrapped up in the gauzy guise of a post-apocalyptic adventure story, the infection that plagues our protagonist is one that directly mimics the unforgiving alienation, hopelessness and heavy boredom many young people experience.

 

The Mutable Anatomy of Moral Cruelty

 

Judith Shklar presents a compelling case for limited and democratic government as the most effective safeguard against 'physical cruelty' inflicted by state agents. In her 1984 work, Ordinary Vices, she argues that the true enemy is the 'moral cruelty' practiced by those who profess to hate oppression, rather than the physical cruelty meted out by officials and police. She references Nietzsche, labelling him a significant adversary of liberal democracy, warning that liberalism can devolve into a cult of victimhood, where sadistic desires are cloaked as virtuous indignation. Our collective cries of 'never again' in the face of totalitarian threats seem ineffective against ongoing political violence. We assert 'never again,' yet 'someone somewhere is being tortured right now.' Many within the liberal intelligentsia have ignored the continuous genocide in Palestine (as deemed by UN Rights expert Francesca Albanese at the UN Human Rights Council in Geneva) – a reality that Edward Said stressed over 30 years ago in a speech that remains relevant now more than ever.

 

The verbal contortions and mental leaps that those in power (Joe Biden, Keir Starmer, Rishi Sunak) frequently perform to downplay the gravity of Israel’s crimes is staggering. Grossly trivialising and devoid of ethical courage, the rhetoric of many of our social and political leaders has been carefully curated to sanitise brutal realities in an age-old exercise of moral evasion. It is disheartening to witness the constant mental gymnastics used when describing one of the most brutal, vindictive military campaigns in modern history. If we are truly a society that values truth and justice, then we cannot afford to accept the negligence and lack of accountability that pervades much of the liberal intelligentsia. 

 

When those who have assumed the responsibility of leading cultural conversations fail to uphold the necessary integrity and courage, the rest of the populace in turn begins to accept and evolve to adapt to an epistemically lower standard of moral honesty and culpability. We are more at risk of degenerating into authoritarianism than we like to admit, especially if the average voter is not a vigilant eyewitness of cruelty. As Shklar advises, cruelty must be grasped in its entirety—not merely as blatant physical violence, but also in its subtler, insidious forms that emerge within liberals' 'well-intentioned' campaigns to eradicate it, as ‘humanitarianism unshaken by scepticism and unmindful of its limitations,’ can oftentimes bypass explicit forms of violence it seeks to resist in terms of perpetuating cruelty. When the media portrays Gaza as an abstraction—a liminal space where violence and destruction are inherent to its identity, and suffering is characterised as an unavoidable geopolitical condition—it dehumanises both the Palestinian people and their colonisers. This framing diminishes the moral gravity of the occupation, deflecting responsibility from key actors and the well-intentioned every day folks who continue to enable them, manufacturing consent for genocide in real time.

 

The Power of an Uninformed Electorate

 

The disenfranchised and the disengaged become the unwitting actors in a play directed by those who understand the cogs and airs required of the theatre of democracy, and the power of an uninformed electorate. 

 

It is important to uphold a level of earnest perplexity and scepticism toward what may appear virtuous. The continuous improvement of the democratic process (especially in the US) depends on our ability to identify and keep up with the changing tides of dishonesty and political manipulation, to develop an astute eye for recognising what is relevant and what has been designed to deliberately distract. A level of healthy suspicion is a necessary condition of political discourse in the journey to effectively identify the subtle transformations by which virtues become vices, and victims become torturers. No one has ever promised an effortless moral life, and virtue requires conscious choice, an open-mind and the appetite for constant reflection and growth. 

 

Only when we confront the uncomfortable truths about our own disengagement will we be able to move forward as a society where voting becomes less of a ritual and more of a deliberate exercise of power, and where politicians resume their rightful place as public servants. The journey towards becoming politically well-read is a long and arduous one, calling for a resolute curiosity and unwavering commitment to understanding the historical contexts that shape our world today. Nevertheless, it can also be immensely rewarding, allowing us to foster a deeper understanding of social dynamics and empowering us with the apparatus to engage meaningfully in civic life.

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