Opinion

SHOHAM GEVA
EDITOR IN CHIEF

CLAIRE BRYAN 

AND REGAN DETWILER 
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS

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MANAGING EDITOR

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Ann Arbor, MI 48109

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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Monday, Sept. 12, 2016

ISAIAH
ZEAVIN-
MOSS

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Misogyny doesn’t have to win
L

ast month, presidential candidate 
Hillary Clinton made history by 
becoming the first female presidential 

nominee from a major 
political 
party 
— 
an 

enormous 
milestone 

in the fight for gender 
equality in America. But 
as we celebrate this important victory, we 
must not fall victim to complacency. The 
battle is not yet won. Although Clinton has 
made “18 million cracks” in the glass ceiling, 
the falling glass may just reveal a titanium 
plate awaiting us beyond.

Don’t get me wrong — a Trump presidency 

will likely be catastrophic for women’s rights. 
However, electing the first female president 
will not solve our problems overnight. 
Misogyny has already reared its ugly head 
during this election cycle, evidenced in 
shouts of “Lock her up!” at the Republican 
National Convention and “Trump that bitch!” 
bumper stickers. Even if Clinton is elected in 
November, these voices will not fade away 
quietly — and they may even worsen.

A few weeks ago, I found myself on a 

10-hour car ride to my grandmother’s 
house and decided to start listening to 
Malcolm Gladwell’s excellent new podcast, 
“Revisionist History,” to kill the time. 
During his first episode, I was compelled 
by Gladwell’s discussion of the sociological 
phenomenon of “moral licensing” and found 
it alarmingly relevant to today’s presidential 
election. According to an article from 
Stanford University, moral licensing “occurs 
when past moral behavior makes people 
more likely to do potentially immoral things 
without worrying about feeling or appearing 
immoral.” We have already seen this concept 
in action with the noticeable increase in 
blatant racism throughout the country 
since the election of President Obama. 
To put it simply, people tend to feel more 
comfortable openly making racial comments 
or jokes because, in their minds, they couldn’t 
possibly be racist if they helped elect the first 
Black president.

Disturbingly, a number of our international 

friends, including Brazil, Germany, Poland, 
Turkey, France, Canada, Australia and — 
until Teresa May’s election following the 
Brexit fallout — the United Kingdom, have 
elected a female head of state once, and then 

never again. In our own country, despite 
women gaining the right to vote in 1920, we 
still only have 20 females in the Senate and 84 
in the House of Representatives. This only 
makes up about 20 percent of each chamber, 
even 
though 
women 
constitute 
50.9 

percent of the U.S. population according 
to the U.S. Census Bureau. If Clinton 
wins the presidency this fall, we must not 
allow ourselves to fall victim to this same 
pattern. The door cannot close behind her 
for the millions of capable, passionate and 
competent women that can surely follow in 
her footsteps.

Unfortunately, misogyny is an ingrained 

part of our culture. It is not likely to slip 
away easily. If we elect the first female 
president in November, the misogyny will 
grow stronger and uglier. She will almost 
certainly work twice as hard to earn the 
respect of both her government colleagues 
and the general public. She will almost 
certainly receive more hateful comments, 
challenges 
to 
her 
temperament 
and 

credibility and watchful eyes critiquing 
her every move than any other American 
president in recent history. While it will be a 
necessary and historical milestone, the first 
female U.S. president will face her fair share 
of difficulty.

This all being said, moral licensing is 

likely not a conscious decision. Although I 
am certain that a few bad apples spoil the 
bunch, I refuse to believe that most people 
are inherently bad. Most of the time, we 
don’t intend to offend others. And this is 
all the more reason to remain diligent in 
the fight for gender equality. If we get too 
comfortable, the louder and angrier voices 
win. If Clinton takes office this fall, we need 
to challenge those voices that seek to put 
her down based solely on her gender.

If we fight together, moral licensing 

doesn’t have to win.

Misogyny doesn’t have to win.
Hate and anger don’t have to win.
We need to ensure that the door remains 

open not only for our sons and brothers to 
reach their fullest potential, but also for our 
incredible daughters and sisters.

—Melissa Strauss can be reached 

at melstrau@umich.edu. 

Politics and mechanical reproducability
T

hroughout 
the 
ongoing 

election cycle, I have been 
made acutely aware of our 

national media’s 
tendency 
to 
remove 

politicians from 
their histories, 
forgetting 
the 

ways in which 
politicians have 
demonstrably 
impacted 
our 
lives 

and 
focusing 

instead on their 
words, 
their 

outfits and their 
“personalities” 
(an 
idea 
that, 

given the extremely limited access 
we have to these people’s lives, I 
question outright).

These 
figures, 
then, 

become nothing more than TV 
characters 
whom 
we 
watch, 

judge, mock, make into memes, 
etc. And why should we care 
about 
two 
characters 
whom 

the heavy majority of us find 
untrustworthy 
and 
corrupt? 

Why should we be moved to 
action? We already have Don 
Draper, 
SpongeBob 
and 
the 

Gilmore Girls to worry about. 
And 
I 
actually 
trust 
them. 

Predictably, we turn off the TV 
when these political figureheads 
appear, leaving us apathetic and 
unamused. 

This notion of the media 

dehistoricizing objects is not a 
new one — and I think it’s fair to 
refer to our political figures in 
this way because, for most of us, 
they will never be anything more 
than images on our screen.

In his formative 1936 essay, 

“The Work of Art in The Age of 
Its Mechanical Reproducibility,” 
Walter Benjamin discusses the 
effects of the emerging film 
industry on its contemporary 
audience. He notes that sharp, 
clear reproductions of original 
images have never been more 
easily attained.

Before film, art could still 

be replicated. The difference, 
according to Benjamin, lies in 
film’s ability to “place the copy of 
the original in situations which 
the original itself cannot attain.” 
And while the reproduced piece 
might otherwise feel and look like 
the original, Benjamin asserts 
that this process of reproduction 
will inherently leave the copy 
lacking authenticity. The original 
piece, Benjamin claims, maintains 
a certain aura obliterated with 
the new capability to endlessly, 
relentlessly 
replicate 
the 

object. This process, in effect, 

deconstructs 
the 
concept 
of 

originality all together — what 
is an “original” if it will always 
be placed into some new context 
the object could never attain by 
itself?

Think of your favorite Drake 

“Hotline Bling” meme. Is the 
video itself the original, or is it 
that meme, which puts Drake 
into an entirely new conversation 
with some other idea — maybe 
an inside joke between you and 
your friends? Doesn’t that meme 
become the original object? Every 
time we put something into this 
sort of new context, are we not 
recreating an original? But how 
could an original be recreated?

Our national media enacts this 

same method of removing objects 
from 
their 
larger 
historical 

context, thereby obliterating the 
sense of the original. Just as a TV 
character might evolve with each 
episode of its show, politicians 
become new figures every time we 
hear about them, in new contexts 

that operate singularly, neglecting 
to address their larger histories.

An 
example: 
Michael 

Bloomberg, who instituted racist 
and unconstitutional stop-and-
frisk policing in New York City 
while mayor, spoke in prime time 
at the 2016 Democratic National 
Convention. 
I 
was 
shocked 

Bloomberg was allowed to speak, 
especially at a convention for a 
party that claims to be the voice 
of marginalized people in this 
country. Liberal media outlets, 
in anticipation of Bloomberg’s 
speech, described him as “the 
nation’s leading independent and 
a 
pragmatic 
business 
leader.” 

And, because of his career as a 
businessman, Bloomberg’s pro-
Clinton sentiments would prove 
that Trump, even among his 
colleagues, is disliked.

Here, we see Bloomberg lifted 

out of the muck of his history, 

without a stain, in order to further 
the Democratic Party’s message. 
But we must remain skeptical 
of this, to examine our political 
figures’ histories and policies, 
because these are the ways in 
which they actually impact us. 

At the convention, we do not 

even need to listen to Bloomberg’s 
words to examine his efforts 
to detach himself from his own 
history. The mayor of Atlanta, 
Ga., 
Kasim 
Reed, 
introduced 

Bloomberg: “Please welcome, the 
three-time mayor of the City of 
New York…,” which sounds exactly 
like the introduction athletes 
receive: 
getting 
the 
audience 

excited about the present moment, 
about the sporting event to come. 
This moment glorifies the future 
and ignores, for the moment, the 
past. For now, they are on your 
team; they are here to help.

Bloomberg 
then 
took 
the 

stage, with blaring saxophones 
accompanying him — almost the 
exact track celebrities receive as 
they come onstage to talk with 
David Letterman. Perhaps this 
is all that matters: his fame, his 
name recognition. The fact that 
he, that guy with that name, is 
endorsing our candidate… It must 
be terrific!

Bloomberg 
began 
his 

remarks by thanking Mr. Reed, 
mispronouncing his first name 
in the process. I should also note 
the irony that Reed is a Black man, 
introducing a figure who actively 
implemented a policing program 
that 
consistently 
violated 
the 

civil liberties of people of color. 
I posit this scheduling decision 
was designed to make us, on some 
level, look past Bloomberg’s past 
entirely. Not only is he at the 
students’ convention, but he’s 
being introduced by a Black man 
who’s talking about Bloomberg 
as a “mentor” and a “friend.” 
Why should we worry about all 
that stuff he used to do? He’s 
here now.

What we see here is Bloomberg 

as the work of art in the age of its 
mechanical reproducibility. The 
original object, with its tattered 
and destructive history, is long 
gone. The past has been effaced. 
The 
reproduced 
Bloomberg 

saunters 
onstage, 
triumphing 

the capture of his original. He 
can now begin anew.

These are the mechanics of 

mechanical reproduction. Right 
in front of our eyes, shameless, 
unembarrassed.

Now what?

—Isaiah Zeavin-Moss can be 

reached at izeavinm @umich.edu. 

T

he summer of 2016 will be one to 
remember: For the first time, a 
woman is the presidential candidate 

of a major political party; 
the Revolutionary Armed 
Forces 
of 
Colombia 

and 
the 
Colombian 

government 
signed 
a 

peace treaty ending a 
50-year war; but most 
importantly, 
“Pokemon 

Go” was released unto the 
world. 
An 
intrinsically 

social game, “Pokemon 
Go” sated my desire for 
human contact until I 
heard of PokeDates: a 
dating website for “Pokemon Go” players. I 
moseyed on down to the homepage and began 
the sign-up process until I noticed something 
peculiar. As part of finding your perfect 
match, the website asks for deal-breakers 
and the two first suggestions were “ultra 
conservative” and “a bleeding heart liberal.” 
It seems like not even Pokemon is spared 
from our nation’s hyper-politicization. Is 
nothing sacred anymore? 

These suggested “deal-breakers” don’t 

exist in a vacuum. They’re symptomatic of 
the way politics have infiltrated our lives. The 
polarization between our parties is as high as 
it was during the Civil War. This polarization 
has lent itself to a hyper-politicization that 
stretches from our day-to-day interactions 
to what would nominally be called politics, 
and has entered our previously relatively 
apolitical institutions such as the Supreme 
Court. For years, the Supreme Court had a 
protective layer. Judges serve life-long terms 
so they don’t have to worry about reelection 
and can rule how they feel is correct. There 
was also an understanding between the 
political parties that even if one doesn’t agree 
with a particular judicial nominee’s views, 
if they are sufficiently qualified, they should 
be sworn into the court. This is no longer the 
case.

Candidates like Bernie Sanders and Donald 

Trump have helped reduce the court to an 
explicitly political institution by discussing 
our nation’s highest court in candid, political 
terms. Earlier this year, Sanders tweeted, 
“Any Supreme Court nominee of mine will 
make overturning Citizens United one of 

their first decisions.” This notion that a justice 
must have explicit priorities is unheard of in 
American politics. Similarly, Donald Trump 
released a list of whom he would nominate for 
the Supreme Court vacancy in a move widely 
seen as an attempt to win over evangelicals. 
I recall one debate during the Republican 
primary in which Trump explicitly called 
upon Mitch McConnell to “delay, delay, 
delay” Obama’s Supreme Court nomination. 
All of this discourse has turned the Supreme 
Court into just another pawn for politicians 
to play with, rather than an institution that 
carries itself aside from politics.

It’s important to recognize the Supreme 

Court has been politicized not only from 
the outside, but also from the inside. Earlier 
this year Ruth Bader Ginsburg delivered a 
searing critique of Donald Trump: “I can’t 
imagine what this place would be — I can’t 
imagine what the country would be — with 
Donald Trump as our president.” At first, it 
was viscerally satisfying to hear one of our 
nation’s most accomplished women excoriate 
serial misogynist Donald Trump. However, 
upon further reflection I began to think that 
maybe this type of discourse wasn’t good 
for our democracy. It further politicizes 
the Supreme Court and diminishes trust 
in public institutions, which in turn 
destabilizes our democracy.

It would be easy to end this piece with a 

call for us to learn to accept one another’s 
different political views on a deeper level 
and not allow them to become key markers 
of our identity. I don’t think that’s 
remotely realistic. Frankly, I could never 
go on a PokeDate with someone who 
plans to vote for Trump this November. 
A Trump vote speaks volumes about a 
person’s underlying ethics in ways I’m not 
remotely comfortable with.

But what I can say is that we should each 

critically reflect on how deeply we have let 
politics penetrate our lives and whether 
we’re comfortable with that level. This bar 
will be different for everyone, but reflection 
is the first step to restoring some sanity to 
our democracy and rescuing our institutions 
from the grip of politics which may even — 
yes — make America great again.

—Roland Davidson can be reached 

at mhenryda@umich.edu. 

Polarization and PokeDating

EMILY WOLFE 
 
 email emily at elwolfe@umich.edu

Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Caitlin Heenan, 

Jeremy Kaplan, Ben Keller, Minsoo Kim, 

Payton Luokkala, Kit Maher, Madeline Nowicki, 

Anna Polumbo-Levy, Jason Rowland, 
Lauren Schandevel, Kevin Sweitzer, 

Rebecca Tarnopol, 

Ashley Tjhung, Stephanie Trierweiler

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

“Just as a TV 

character might 
evolve with each 
episode of their 
show, politicians 

become new figures 
every time we hear 

about them.”

ROLAND 
DAVIDSON

MELISSA
STRAUSS

