Ari Kohen's Blog

I Guess It's Time To Put Down A Marker

We're in the midst of a near-constant assault on the bedrock principles and institutions of this country and the entire political philosophy on which it rests. So it's probably time to make some noise about liberal politics.

By this, I don't mean some sort of grand manifesto for the Left; I mean, instead, a small statement about liberalism as a political idea. For a long time now, we have allowed people who oppose our liberal politics to speak almost unchallenged in no small part because we felt that liberalism was a self-evident good, that it was obviously right, that -- in the post-war world -- it had won the day. We assumed we didn't really need to defend things like toleration, basic rights, a government whose power was divided and limited, and so on.

Yet here we are.

In the absence of any sort of serious defense of liberalism, anti-liberal ideas (which, it turns out, were not vanquished forever with the collapse of Nazism and Stalinism) crept out of the dark corners of our society and found ways to ingratiate themselves into more and more people's thoughts about politics.

And so, today, we find ourselves debating whether something as seemingly sacrosanct as the First Amendment is, in fact, really something we care about. At a moment of extravagant executive overreach, a good chunk of the populace is openly flirting with accepting rather than challenging authoritarian actions.

Why? Because authoritarianism seems comforting when liberalism is challenging. Liberalism is constantly demanding that we work; authoritarianism promises to do the work for us. Liberal ideas are revolving and contestable, to borrow a phrase from the philosopher Richard Rorty; it insists that we have to keep deliberating rather than assuming that any claim is settled forever.

Anti-liberal beliefs are easy to slide into because they are designed to tell us we can have whatever we want. They’re seductive in their approach to tyranny. They give us permission to skirt the rules or make new rules if the issue is really important. They suggest that getting something done is what really matters. Or that it’s ok as long as you know your side is correct.

But that isn’t how things work in a liberal democratic constitutional republic. Here, the law is supposed to matter more than the leader and more than my feelings. When my feelings are hurt, though, and the government comes along and tells me it will take my side ... well, that's actually when I need to double down on my liberalism. Because if we take the deal, if we give the government the power to silence those with whom we disagree, that's hard-won power that will be extremely difficult or maybe impossible to claw back in the future.

When we applaud the government for silencing our opponents, for hunting them down and throwing them out, we explicitly grant that same government permission to silence us and our friends in the future. Once we allow the government to be the arbiter of what sorts of opinions are acceptable to say out loud, we've given away the store.

There are a lot of things that people say that make me uncomfortable, hurt my feelings, and even make me feel less safe. And it can be extremely hard to acknowledge that they have the right to do that. Words can hurt, certainly, but it's not the kind of hurt that we resolve by sending someone to a prison.

But what I need is not someone bigger and stronger who will use their size and strength to make them stop, even though that might feel good to me in the moment. If I do that, which is easy and comfortable for me, I'm doing the work of the authoritarian for him and I'm potentially sacrificing my own rights in the not-so-distant future.

Have you seen the advertisement video that Trump released today to sell his $99 NFTs?

Watching the video—and, really, you should watch it in all its pitiful glory—I’m shocked anew that so many people either couldn’t see that their cult leader was a ridiculous reality tv clown or were just thrilled by his outspoken bigotry and shamelessness.

What an absolutely pathetic golden calf.

I’m SHOCKED!

Are you telling me that the current Governor—who gave millions of dollars to the campaign of the next Governor and who campaigned for him for months—is now asking the next Governor to appoint the current Governor to an open US Senate seat?

I wonder if he’ll get it!

Honestly, this whole sordid affair is just so staggeringly, nakedly corrupt. The last time Ricketts tried for this Senate seat, his family couldn’t pay enough to get Nebraskans to actually vote him into office. This time, there’s no need for an election at all. That’s priceless.

Well that was a fun experiment in “free speech absolutism,” which resulted in exactly what everyone knew would happen—a tidal wave of antisemitism broadcast to tens of millions of people.

Elon Musk: “We’re going to bring back all the suspended accounts!”

Everyone normal: “I mean, but what were they suspended *for*?”

Elon Musk: “Ah, who can say? Probably just for saying something that wasn’t popular. Cancel culture!”

All those accounts: “It was because we’re horrific bigots! Yay!”

In honor of finishing our discussion of “Coriolanus,” the extra credit assignment where they each get to create a 10 song “Banished from Rome” playlist and send it to me at some point this week. Can’t wait to see the music they love and can’t live without!

Then I stopped. Mostly I spent time on Twitter, which is now being actively destroyed by a billionaire charlatan.

I’ve read a lot over the past few days about Phil Zimbardo’s iconic Stanford Prison Experiment, which is back in the news because people are now claiming it’s a fraud. What follows are some thoughts. But first, two disclosures: 1) I know Phil and have worked with him at a series of conferences devoted to the study of heroism. I’ve also recently published with him and several other excellent scholars on the topic. And I like him personally. Also, 2) I’m not a psychologist.

When I first met Phil, I certainly knew he was famous and I knew about the Stanford Prison Experiment, but I didn’t appreciate the level of fame he’d achieved within the field of psychology. I didn’t understand how the Experiment was taught for decades to students. I’m still just figuring that out.

As far as I can tell, many people now (like in the past three days) believe that Phil is a fraud and a liar. My sense is that these are totally wrong conclusions to draw but they make sense given the way the Experiment was presented and the way it achieved the status of gospel truth over the years.

On my reading, Phil’s experiment wasn’t set up well and as a result university researchers don’t do the sorts of experiments he did. Social scientists spend a lot of time learning research design and working within IRB parameters to avoid the problems that plague Phil’s experiment.

And yet Phil—and at least a generation of psych professors—presented the Stanford Prison Experiment as though it taught us something concrete about human nature. It probably can, but not what we were told it teaches. Phil presented it as teaching that people fall into their roles.

But Phil fell into his role. He fully, freely admits this. He played the warden’s part in the experiment and that was an experimental flaw. But he also embraced that role, got swallowed up by it to a dangerous degree such that he had to be confronted by a loved one to be stopped.

So, we learn an idiosyncratic lesson about Phil Zimbardo from the experiment. But we likely also learn that, at least to some extent, ordinary people are influenced to do bad things by an authority figure (which is, of course, also a conclusion from the problematic experiment conducted by Stanley Milgram).

I suspect that Phil couldn’t see the role that he played and the way it improperly impacted his experiment. Phil hypothesized a conclusion about human nature and by inserting himself into his study he inserted that bias into the study, yielding his conclusion. [It would be fascinating to ask Phil why he thinks he fell into the warden role the way he did.] This is what all the articles this week ought to point out: Phil Zimbardo had a Zimbardo-sized blind spot and it wrecked the experiment; it meant that he reached a conclusion based substantially (maybe entirely) on a bias he brought with him into his work.

That doesn’t make him a liar or a fraud; it makes him human. We all have blind spots when it comes to ourselves and our biases. But surely someone in the last 40+ years noticed this? Why haven’t psychology textbooks just said as much? That’s the only reason this feels like a bombshell.

If the big question is, “Why do ordinary people do terrible things?,” the answer ought not to be “Because Zimbardo proved it was human nature to fall into assigned roles.” The answer ought to be, “We don’t entirely know. Here are some possibilities.” And then explain the studies. Because those iconic studies are flawed and I guess I thought we all already knew that. They were designed in a different era, when social science research was a whole lot more free-wheeling, a whole lot less structured, and thus shouldn’t be taken to “prove” a whole lot.

I’ve been thinking a lot about The Last Jedi since seeing it on Thursday night and I’ve been talking a lot about it since publishing my spoiler-filled critique of it on Friday afternoon. What follows contains Last Jedi spoilers, of course. So stop right here if you don’t want to read any of those.

I’m a massive Star Wars fan.

I spent countless hours with my action figures and invented all sorts of storylines for Luke, Leia, Han, and Vader as they flew around in my hands or almost drowned in the quicksand of my Dagoba playset.

I own three different copies of the original trilogy on VHS and one on Blu-Ray. I saw the Special Edition re-releases on opening night and even drove a couple of hours to a special THX theater for them. I saw each of the prequels at midnight screenings and bought the DVDs as soon as they were released. I’ve watched every episode of Clone Wars and Rebels. I’ve read all the Expanded Universe novels and all the new Cannon novels. For all its repetitiveness, I was excited by The Force Awakens. And despite the stupidity and uselessness of the Saw Gerrera plotline, I thought Rogue One was a good idea that was mostly well-executed.

And so it’s with the heaviest of hearts that I declare this new movie isn’t for me. It’s almost certainly for someone else, not me.

Please bear with me a moment for something uncomfortable.

I haven't written anything at all about the powerful #MeToo and #IWill campaigns on Twitter and Facebook. I didn't write anything at the time because I didn't want to signal that one of the good guys who stands up for women or pat myself on the back for times when I've done so; the issue is far too serious for that sort of thing, I think.

That isn't to say that men who did those things ought to feel bad for having done them. I think people have seriously good intentions here. That said--and here's the uncomfortable part--good intentions often don't amount to much.

Fighting against the culture of pervasive sexual harassment and assault is going to require action on the part of men. And saying you'll take action isn't the same thing as *actually* taking action. From years of researching and teaching on the topic of heroism, I know a lot about bystander behavior. And one of the things that comes across loud and clear is that no one imagines themselves as a bystander in a crisis situation.

People look at a tragedy and say, “I know I’d help” or “I promise I’ll be a person you can turn to.” Except helpers remain relatively rare. And it’s not because people are bad or insincere in their desire to be a helper; it’s because standing up against injustice or rushing into danger is exceedingly hard to do in the moment. You can think about it today and you can commit to doing the hard thing, but that’s very different from actually doing it in the moment.

When the moment comes—when someone falls to the floor and needs CPR or when the boss makes inappropriate remarks about a female colleague—you have to make a snap decision...and people usually don’t have the clarity in that moment to know they’re making one of those big, important, difficult decisions. It happens too fast. You either help or you don’t; you either say something or you stay quiet. When asked about this moment later, heroes typically say something like, “I didn’t even think about it; I just did it.”

So, how do we become people who stand up and speak out? We have to practice. It feels like instinct or muscle memory for the hero because the hero has been in training for this moment for a long time. Which means that, if we’re serious about our #IWill promises, we have to start training ourselves now. We can’t expect to say we’ll do something one week in 2017 and actually do that thing five years from now, a year from now, or even next week. In fact, we need to understand that it’s almost a certainty that we won’t.

Here are two things you can do, starting today, that will make it more likely you’ll be the sort of person you want to be, the ally for the person you say you want to support:

1. Make yourself uncomfortable.

If you want to be a person who stands up to sexual harassment and abuse, you need to practice standing out...because that’s precisely what you’ll be doing when the situation arises. It’s hard to tell someone that what they’ve just said or done is inappropriate and needs to stop. It’s hard to intervene, especially if you’re dealing with a superior, a friend, or a family member, and it’s particularly hard to do all of this in public.

So practice calling attention to yourself. It’s uncomfortable to be the person who sticks out in a crowd, who isn’t going with the flow, but that’s exactly what you’ll need to do so you should start working on dealing with the awkward feeling now so you aren’t fighting the pressure to conform in the moment. The things that make you uncomfortable will be different from the things that make other people uncomfortable, so I can only offer general ideas here.

Maybe it’s wearing something that makes you stand out, like bright pink pants. Maybe it’s singing out loud when you’re walking down the street. Maybe it’s being completely honest when you’re asked for your opinion. Maybe it’s shaking hands or looking people in the eye during an entire conversation. You pick what works for you so you can practice having the experience of standing out.

2. Do small good things.

By this, I mean that you should be on the look-out for opportunities to help people in small ways. Because even small, cost-free helping behavior can get you in the habit and prime you for the more costly behavior toward which we’re trying to build.

Hold doors for others, including elevator doors, especially if it means delaying yourself a little longer than you’d normally like. Return someone’s shopping cart if you’re on your way into a store and they’ve just finished loading their car. Volunteer some of your time once a week for a cause or organization that matters to you. Ask people if they need anything when you get up to get something for yourself of if you’re leaving a room to which you’ll soon return.

The idea here is to work on becoming a person who notices opportunities to assist other people, so you might need to spend less time with earbuds in or looking at your phone. The more you’re paying attention to what’s happening around you, the more you’ll see that there are lots of times when people could benefit from some help even before they ask for it.

At least a few times a month, someone asks me about the Boycott, Divest, and Sanction movement because I teach a class on Israel every year. I get these questions because there are multiple pro-Israel groups in the United States that use the specter of BDS to raise money. These groups have succeeded over the past five years or so in convincing Americans--especially Christian Zionists and right-leaning Jews--that BDS is sweeping across college campuses in the US and represents some sort of dire threat to Israel.

The people who ask me about this issue are astounded and displeased when I tell them they're being lied to, and they're disinclined to believe me.

This morning someone sent me a post about a BDS resolution that was passed recently at Tufts University. The resolution was supported by 17 students and doesn't seem to be binding on the university in any way, which means that it's basically a certainty that Tufts won't divest or boycott Israel. I'm linking to the article so you can read the whole thing; it's written by the director of CAMERA (one of the groups that uses BDS to raise lots of money).

But this is the most important paragraph and please remember that it's data offered to you by someone who *wants* you to worry about BDS on American campuses:

A key question is why such measures succeed on some campuses, but fail on many others — or never come up at all on the roughly 4,000 US college and university campuses. There have been (according to the AMCHA Initiative’s documentation) just over 100 such measures introduced in total over the last five years on 54 separate campuses, with slightly fewer than half passing.

What this means, of course, is that there were approximately 3,950 college campuses in this country where BDS has “never come up” and on the 54 campuses where it has come up in the past 5 years, it has passed a student government vote *less than half* the time. That’s approximately 25 campuses out of roughly 4,000.

I've seen a few hundred of my friends share videos of a passenger being forcibly removed from a United flight because it was oversold. What I haven't seen yet--which is why I'm writing about it--is any discussion of all the passengers who remain calmly seated while the man is dragged down the aisle. Every passenger sat still. Some voiced disapproval, but no one moved.

It seems to me important to note that there isn't something wrong per se with involving the United States in the Syrian crisis in a meaningful way with the hope of bringing that crisis to an end and alleviating the terrible suffering of the Syrian people. In fact, I've been arguing about intervention in Syria for about six years now. There's an extensive library of posts about Syria on this blog, going back to 2011.

To sit back and watch horror after unspeakable horror unfold is itself a choice; it is to actively choose not to involve ourselves in any sort of meaningful way that might bring those horrors to an end. We might choose non-intervention because we believe that we have no business interfering in the affairs of other states, that bombing a country doesn't magically lead to good things happening there, or that we have such a bad track record of doing so that we ought not to keep doing it because we don't know how to make things better. I happen to be someone who doesn't hold to these positions. Allowing harm on this level to occur feels, in its own way, criminal to me. But I also think we must spend time figuring out how to intervene in ways that advance the interests of the people on whose behalf we say we are intervening. Simply dropping bombs isn't a long-term answer and neither is a decades-long military presence; if those are the only options we ever consider, we will continue to fail to make life better for people.

We're not doing that difficult work. That's something we all know. Launching 50 missiles at a Syrian airfield is an act of war undertaken without Congressional approval and it's also the actions of a man with no plan whatsoever for what comes next. One week ago, the Trump administration indicated that Assad was likely to remain in power; a few days later, Assad launched a chemical weapons attack against civilians; the next day, the Trump administration spoke openly about regime change and unilateral miliary action against Assad. President Trump isn't guided by any sort of careful foreign policy considerations; he and his team seem literally to be making it all up as they do, which means there's no long-term plan for our involvement in Syria. By all accounts, there isn't even a short-term plan. This missle strike was done to highlight Trump's own humanity in response to the chemical attack, not to change our policy regarding the Syrian crisis, Assad himself, or the Syrian people who aren't helped by this in any way and who President Trump continues to bar from entering our country as refugees. Nothing whatsoever has shifted, apart from media coverage (which today lauds President Trump for his meaningless action and looks away from Trump's unprecedented scandals and inept attempts at governance).

If President Trump cared about the humanitarian catastrophe in Syria, he could immediately change his policy regarding Syrian refugees and he could begin to work closely with our allies around the world to craft a plan that might help bring about an end to the Syrian civil war. This would be incredibly difficult, of course, and there are no guarantees that any such plan would actually work. But it's perfectly clear that no one on Trump's staff has any relevant experience in this area or any real interest in learning and so we're definitely not going to be doing those things that might actually make a difference in the lives of people who are suffering; we won't even attempt it.

Hey Tumblr!

For the past 8 weeks, I’ve been writing up a daily briefing about the Trump presidency and the GOP-controlled Congress, trying to cut through as much of the noise as possible so people can focus on the truly important stuff that is impacting people’s lives and then take action by calling their elected officials armed with solid information.

You can follow and engage with each TrumpWatch Daily Updates on Facebook and Twitter.

Over at the Patreon page, I’m also encouraging people to donate if they find the posts useful. Each month, TrumpWatch patrons choose a pro-democracy or pro-refugee organization and donate our proceeds. For as little as $1 a week, YOU get a say in which organization gets the money. One vote per person, no electoral college. Last month, we donated to a refugee resettlement organization. This month, patrons chose the Anti-Defamation League due to the spike in anti-Semitic incidents all over the country.

For the low price of only $200K -- make out your check directly to the Trump Organization -- you can get a front row seat in the Situation Room and they'll even serve you dinner too. And when you're done watching an international crisis unfold, maybe take a photo with and provide the name of the guy holding the nuclear football and then publicly share it on Facebook?

Don’t worry, no background check required for any of this.

Over the past week or two, I've spent a fair amount of time, both online and offline, on the Betsy DeVos nomination for a bunch of reasons. The first is I'm from Detroit. There aren't many people from Michigan who think her ideas about public education are good. And with good reason. We've seen it firsthand.

I'm also, now, from Nebraska. A lot of my students come from very small towns where there's one school. Public education is crucial for them. These communities are too small for their school to survive on vouchers, or at least to maintain any sort of quality education for all. The notion that there will be competition amongst various charter schools for these tiny communities is obviously ridiculous on its face. Implementing DeVos' ideas will wreck rural communities. People will either have to leave, settle for bad education, or drive their kids hours away to whichever school can draw in sufficient students to stay open.

The thing is, I'm involved in this issue for purely public interest reasons. I'd personally benefit from a voucher system. I'd actually make money! If the government gave me a check for, I don’t know, $10,000 per kid, and I paid my regular tuition for private day school, I'd actually come out ahead. I make no secret of the fact that I send my own kids to a private school and that I went to private schools myself. As a religious minority, I choose this for my kids because it helps to instill a sense of identity for them. (There are lots of other reasons I choose private school for them, but most of them boil down to things that public schools just can’t do for them given the resources available to them.)

But maybe this is why I'm a Democrat these days: I can tell when something that would personally benefit me is still the wrong thing to do. Even though I'd love to have that money in my pocket instead of paying as much as I do, I know that public education is good and necessary. I don't choose it for my kids for a particular reason, not because I’m forced to by public schools that have failed. And, more than that, I want my neighbors to have quality schools. I want that so much that I pay for those schools with my taxes and then I also pay for my kids' tuition out of pocket.

Public education is a public good even if I don't personally use it. My kids, when grown up, will need their neighbors to have been educated. We can't survive as a country if our public schools are garbage. One look at this most recent election should tell you that. We need to better fund our schools, not get rid of them through some misguided free market exercise. People who think otherwise are those who can afford not to worry about the state of public education or whose ideology wins over anything.