I
hope I speak for a lot of
people somewhat left of
center when I say that the
Republican
Party’s
capability
for hypocrisy can be amazing
— we’ve spent years listening to
Sen. Mitch McConnell, R-KY.,
grumble
about
spendthrift
Democrats, and those of us from
the South and Midwest have
heard a thousand different ways
the communist, Muslim, socialist,
President Barack Obama was
going to waste our tax money.
And then — just last week — the
White House published a budget
that would add $984 billion to the
deficit in 2019. What happened to
the party of fiscal discipline?
The answer lies in the way
the Democratic and Republican
Parties are composed — we see
them as mirror images of each
other, with only ideology to
distinguish them, but the real
differences run deeper. What
looks like hypocrisy to the
Democratic Party can often be
explained by differences in the
Republican Party’s structure.
In the book “Asymmetric
Politics,” Matt Grossmann and
David A. Hopkins argue the
modern Democratic Party is
based on a coalition of people
who are united in their identity
as disadvantaged peoples or the
allies thereof. The LGBT social
movement allies with the feminist
movement to vote Democrat,
not because they necessarily
agree on tax policy, but because
Democrats represent them both
as interest groups harmed by the
status quo.
Similarly, Democrats unite
the
majority
of
Americans
minorities,
not
because
the
composite groups necessarily
agree
about
whether
the
minimum wage should be $12
or $15 an hour, but because they
share an interest in protections
for disenfranchised groups and
the Republican Party doesn’t —
not at the same level, at least.
The
Republican
Party,
conversely,
is
based
on
ideological identity. It helps
that the Republican electorate
is somewhat homogenous —
most of their voters are white,
straight and over 35 — but the
most important factor seems
to be that Republicans are
ideologically conservative.
An example from recent
political history comes to mind:
former
Gov.
Mark
Sanford,
R-S.C., vanished for a week
in 2011 to visit his mistress in
Argentina, and still managed to
beat the Democratic candidate
— Elizabeth Colbert Busch — in
a 2013 race for the U.S. House of
Representatives. Colbert Busch
didn’t lose because she wasn’t a
white heterosexual female — she
was — she lost because Sanford
could better demonstrate his
conservative identity.
The Republican Party is, to
condense the above, primarily
rooted in the perception of
oneself
as
a
conservative:
individual policies — more
spending
on
defense,
or
defunding Planned Parenthood
—
don’t
really
matter
so
long as party politicians can
clearly
demonstrate
their
conservative ideology.
I’m not trying to make a value
judgement.
Democrats
aren’t
worse for their lack of a central
ideology, and Republicans aren’t
worse for their indifference over
individual policy concerns. The
divide, though, explains why
liberals and conservatives can’t
always see the coherence in their
opponents’ actions.
This
also
explains
the
seeming
paradox
in
which
Americans tend to be liberal
on an issue-by-issue basis but
most
describe
themselves
as
overall
moderates
or
conservatives.
Whichever
side of this dichotomy is more
important to someone might
be what determines their party
alliance — and it would explain
why someone like Trump can
get away with suggesting both
universal health care and legally
penalizing women who seek
abortions. Policy concerns aren’t
necessarily what determine a
voter’s behavior.
Other recent trends — like
negative
partisanship
and
polarization — interact with
this
disparity
to,
honestly,
give a campaigning advantage
to
Republicans.
Their
core
electorate is willing to go cycle
after cycle (think the Obama
years after 2010) without any
real policy victories because
their representatives are seen
as fighting the good fight. The
Democratic electorate, on the
other hand, is far less forgiving
of
policy
failures,
such
as
the Democratic wobbling on
whether or not the Deferred
Action for Childhood Arrivals
policy is worth a government
shutdown
has
become
divisive among potential 2020
presidential contenders.
When people on the left try
to analyze the right wing, they
should avoid using a Democratic
mindset to interpret Republican
behavior. Students who work
for (or will eventually work for)
campaigns and student activists
have to remember that the way
they think about politics is often
shaped by what the party with
which they identify.
I think it’s legitimate to make
one’s case using reasons that are
less than practical. I support
DACA
because
Dreamers
shouldn’t
have
their
lives
destabilized. I support a higher
minimum wage because people
deserve to support themselves if
they work full time. I also think
that there are times to avoid this,
though; the goal is to actually
translate your ideas into to
legislation and have them signed
into law.
When
we
evaluate
our
current environment and find
it flawed, there has to be a step
before action when practical
reality is considered. How will
this look to the opposition? Is
this viable, given the way it will
be evaluated? Can we, given
the composition of our party,
really pursue this strategy? In
a political environment where
partisan conflict has become
one of the most important
influencing factors, cross-party
conversation has to be tailored to
the way each side sees itself and
its opposition.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Monday, February 19, 2018
DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor
420 Maynard St.
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Editor in Chief
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Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.
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EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
Samantha Goldstein
Elena Hubbell
Emily Huhman
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Sarah Khan
Lucas Maiman
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland
Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Ali Safawi
Kevin Sweitzer
Tara Jayaram
Ashley Zhang
Are we being close minded to open mindedness?
O
n my way home from
class today, I thought
about what it would
be like to be shot. What would
I do if someone opened fire
right here, right now?
I glanced at a snow bank
that had piled up on the
side of the sidewalk from
daily plowing. I could hide
behind that. I could try to
dig myself an area where I
would
be
concealed
from
view, hopefully out of sight
and out of mind. I thought
back to when I was a kid, and
my brother and I would hide
in the piles of leaves that had
collected on the side of roads
so we could jump up to scare
the drivers going by.
Since then, I’ve frequently
thought about what would
have happened if a car had
driven over the pile of leaves
instead of around. The same
thoughts came to me now,
considering the permeable safe
haven of a snowbank. It definitely
wouldn’t stop any bullets.
While I was eating lunch
today, I thought about what it
would be like for my brother
or sisters to be shot. What
would they do if someone
opened fire at their school? I
have a sister in middle school,
and two more siblings in high
school. What if their school
were the next scene of yet
another mass shooting?
I thought back to when
I was younger, to the times
when I’d sneak out of my
school
to
go
buy
lunch
somewhere, even though we
had a closed campus. I always
walked back into school with
no problems, often to an
empty lunch room, with no
one to testify if I looked even
remotely like I belonged there.
I’ve been back a couple
times since I’ve graduated,
and not much has changed.
I’ve never been stopped to be
asked who I am, or what I was
doing there, or what my bag or
jacket concealed. No one would
be there to stop any bullets.
During a fundraiser for
my
student
organization
today, I thought about who
I would call if people in this
room were shot. Who would
I want to call during my last
moments,
while
someone
opened fire on my classmates?
I considered my boyfriend,
my parents, my siblings, my
grandparents.
I thought back to all of the
missed calls I’ve ever gotten
from my mom, and how every
time she had assumed the
worst: that I had crashed my
car, got lost on a road trip,
didn’t make it back to my
vehicle after a closing shift.
I wouldn’t want to worry
her, I thought, in case I made
it out okay. I wouldn’t want
to call her, wouldn’t want
to confirm her worst-case
scenarios. And if I didn’t
make it out ok, I thought, she
would know I love her. Deeply
and fiercely. She would know
that. And it would be out of
love that I didn’t call her, that
I didn’t force her to listen
to
her
terrified,
19-year-
old daughter sobbing into
the phone while gunshots
and screams echo in the
background. After all, no call
would stop any bullets.
These shouldn’t be the
thoughts that I have. I should
be fretting over my history
exam next week, or the fact
that I have a pimple on my
chin that for the life of me I
can’t get to go away. I should
be thinking college student
things.
Yet it now seems that mass
shootings are just another
college
student
thing:
history exam, pimple on my
chin, escape plan in a mass
shooting. It is a legitimate
possibility for my life to be
taken from me by the hands
of a stranger with a gun,
opening fire on my campus. It
is a legitimate possibility that
the same thing could happen
to my younger siblings on
their campuses.
And it doesn’t seem to be
taken seriously. There are
people who hold the power
to make this the last school
shooting in the history of the
United States, and yet they are
more persuaded by personal
interests and greed than the
lifeless bodies of more than
1,829 civilians killed in mass
shootings since Sandy Hook
in 2012. Those with power in
the U.S. have a responsibility
to protect our people and they
have the opportunity to do so.
So why aren’t they taking it?
Today I thought
Why don’t Republicans pass conservative legislation?
HANK MINOR | COLUMN
Hank Minor can be reached at
hminor@umich.edu.
Claire Denton is an LSA junior.
Y
esterday, I found myself
sitting at a café in
downtown Ann Arbor
engaged
in
a
conversation
about religion, gender roles and
libertarianism.
To give a little more context,
a few nights beforehand I was
at a bar talking with a friend
of mine, and at one point the
topic of Judaism came up.
We are both Jewish men, but
it quickly became apparent
that our relationships to our
religion were quite different,
and we decided to continue
the
conversation
another
day with clearer heads and a
quieter environment.
Over the course of the
conversation, we encountered
some opinions we shared and
many more we did not. We
clashed over our beliefs in
divinity and the importance of
tradition, and the discussion
even touched on the topic of
reproductive rights. After our
time together, I departed the
café with a stronger conviction
in some of my beliefs, newfound
doubt in others and, most
importantly,
with
a
better
understanding of my friend and
his world, about which I now
realize I knew little.
I bring up this anecdote
because I believe experiences
like these are some of the
most
important
learning
opportunities a person can
encounter,
and
from
my
perspective,
they
are
an
increasingly rare phenomenon.
Conflicting
ideologies
have
always existed, and as we
move deeper into what some
are calling the post-truth era,
even facts are up for debate.
Yet, as people gain access to
a greater diversity of thought
during the age of information,
I see both within the University
of Michigan community and
beyond a growing reluctance for
many to expose themselves to
ideas different from their own,
let alone engage with them.
The reasons for this decline
in discourse are unclear, but I
have a few ideas. Perhaps the
belief-affirming tendencies of
social media are making our
generation less aware of ideas
that differ from our own, leading
us to become less comfortable
with and less open to ideas that
contrast ours. Perhaps we are
perceiving the presentation of
ideas different from our own as
attacks on not just our beliefs,
but as attacks on ourselves and
our character, leading to the end
of a conversation before it can
even begin. Or, perhaps we just
feel so strongly about certain
beliefs that we don’t feel there is
any need to expose ourselves to
others, because, of course, we’re
always right.
Regardless of the reasoning,
I believe this growing trend
of homogeneous thought has
the potential to be harmful to
the growth of our generation
and its potential to develop
thoughtful, inclusive leaders. To
be frank, there is no downside
to engaging with differing and
even
difficult-to-understand
ideas.
If you engage with someone
who feels drastically different
than you about a certain subject
and leave the conversation with
the same stances you entered,
I would consider the exchange
well worth your time. Not only
can you now walk away from the
experience feeling even stronger
in your convictions because they
have withstood the scrutiny of
the opposition, but perhaps you
might have changed the mind of
the individual on the other side
of the aisle.
If you engage with someone
who
holds
a
conflicting
viewpoint to your own and find
yourself doubting your beliefs
or struggling to defend the ideas
about which you previously
felt so strongly, then this too
is a beautiful thing. Change is
difficult, but in the words of the
former Roman Emperor and
philosopher Marcus Aurelius,
“If someone is able to show me
that what I think or do is not
right, I will happily change, for
I seek the truth, by which no
one was ever truly harmed. It is
the person who continues in his
self-deception and ignorance
who is harmed.”
I would argue, though, that
the greatest benefit of exposing
oneself to uncomfortable and
different ideas is gaining a
better understanding of the
world around you. Ignoring
others and their beliefs won’t
erase the potential influence
they may have on your world.
For example, dismissing and
denouncing
ideas
of
white
supremacy
didn’t
keep
the
Charlottesville
rally
from
materializing. Chalking off a
celebrity
businessman’s
bid
for a presidency as ridiculous
and ignoring the voices of his
previously
disenfranchised
supporters certainly didn’t put
Hillary Clinton in office. But,
engaging with individuals who
hold different beliefs than you,
understanding and empathizing
with their positions and seeking
to find solutions that work
with—rather than in spite of—
the opposition may have been
able to alter these narratives.
Certainly, there is a time
and place for these dialogues.
Individuals feel strongly about
their beliefs for a reason and
are certainly entitled to feel
offended if feel they are being
personally
attacked.
Being
respectful
and
thoughtful,
with an awareness that how
you say something is often just
as important as what you are
saying, is key to the success of
these conversations. There is
a thin line between bringing
up
important,
conflicting
ideas in a discussion and being
unnecessarily provocative to
rile up those around you. I do
not consider trolling someone or
yelling ignorant hate speech at
anyone to fall into the category
of constructive dialogue.
Our world is comprised
of
more
communities
than
one can count, varying from
each other in manners, both
large and small. None of these
communities—even your own
utopia—are perfect, and I firmly
believe we all can learn from
each other in some capacity.
By
entering
into
honest
dialogues, acknowledging that
our ways may not be perfect
and explaining to others how
their ideas may have room for
growth, we can truly make the
world a better place – or at least
a more empathetic one. I urge
anyone reading this to take a
step outside of their comfort
zone
and
to
engage
with
someone on the other side of the
aisle. No matter how wrong you
initially might think they are,
maybe, just maybe, you might
like what you find.
Matthew Friend can be reached at
mjfir@umich.edu.
MATTHEW FRIEND | COLUMN
NIA LEE | CAN BE REACHED AT LEENIA@UMICH.EDU
CLAIRE DENTON GRENCHIK | OP-ED
The Republican
Party is based
on ideological
identity
It now seems that
mass shootings
are just another
college student
thing