Over at the Guardian's Comment is free forum, Rebecca Solnit penned a remarkable essay. A letter to my dismal allies on the US left. Solnit's thesis is simple: leftists who reject altogether the possibility of incremental change in favour of hopes of revolutionary change actually do nothing to encourage positive change at all, instead encouraging inaction and making positive change impossible. It's an example of the perfect being the enemy of the good.
Solnit goes on at length. Her commenters follow suit, many of them arguing that (for instance) settling for little things and doing nothing to transform the wider system is just as much a surrender to inaction, if not more so.
I'm inclined towards greater, though not uncritical, sympathy with Solnit's argument. You?
[T]he recent governor of my state, Arnold Schwarzenegger, was in some respects quite good on climate change. Yet it was impossible for me to say so to a radical without receiving an earful about all the other ways in which Schwarzenegger was terrible, as if the speaker had a news scoop, as if he or she thought I had been living under a rock, as if the presence of bad things made the existence of good ones irrelevant. As a result, it was impossible to discuss what Schwarzenegger was doing on climate change (and unnecessary for my interlocutors to know about it, no less figure out how to use it).
So here I want to lay out an insanely obvious principle that apparently needs clarification. There are bad things and they are bad. There are good things and they are good, even though the bad things are bad. The mentioning of something good does not require the automatic assertion of a bad thing. The good thing might be an interesting avenue to pursue in itself if you want to get anywhere. In that context, the bad thing has all the safety of a dead end. And yes, much in the realm of electoral politics is hideous, but since it also shapes quite a bit of the world, if you want to be political or even informed you have to pay attention to it and maybe even work with it.
Instead, I constantly encounter a response that presumes the job at hand is to figure out what's wrong, even when dealing with an actual victory, or a constructive development. Recently, I mentioned that California's current attorney general, Kamala Harris, is anti-death penalty and also acting in good ways to defend people against foreclosure. A snarky Berkeley professor's immediate response began: "Excuse me, she's anti-death penalty, but let the record show that her office condoned the illegal purchase of lethal injection drugs."
Apparently, we are not allowed to celebrate the fact that the attorney general for 12% of all Americans is pretty cool in a few key ways or figure out where that could take us. My respondent was attempting to crush my ebullience and wither the discussion, and what purpose exactly does that serve?
This kind of response often has an air of punishing or condemning those who are less radical, and it is exactly the opposite of movement- or alliance-building. Those who don't simply exit the premises will be that much more cautious about opening their mouths. Except to bitch, the acceptable currency of the realm.
Solnit goes on at length. Her commenters follow suit, many of them arguing that (for instance) settling for little things and doing nothing to transform the wider system is just as much a surrender to inaction, if not more so.
I'm inclined towards greater, though not uncritical, sympathy with Solnit's argument. You?