One of the big puzzles in the last months, for those observing the politics in the US and elsewhere, is this: why is there apparently so little protest against the attacks on democracy and the rule of law, and why does it happen in some but not other cases?
I want to share a hypothesis, which has to do with perceptions of temporality and the ensuing emotional states. I started thinking about this a while ago, during the wave of climate protests in Europe. At the time, many comparisons were drawn with earlier forms of protest, e.g. in the civil rights movement, and the discussion quickly turned to what forms of disobedience (e.g. blocking roads, damaging works of art, etc.) are justified in what kinds of cases. But whereas many historical movements wanted to achieve something *ne…
One of the big puzzles in the last months, for those observing the politics in the US and elsewhere, is this: why is there apparently so little protest against the attacks on democracy and the rule of law, and why does it happen in some but not other cases?
I want to share a hypothesis, which has to do with perceptions of temporality and the ensuing emotional states. I started thinking about this a while ago, during the wave of climate protests in Europe. At the time, many comparisons were drawn with earlier forms of protest, e.g. in the civil rights movement, and the discussion quickly turned to what forms of disobedience (e.g. blocking roads, damaging works of art, etc.) are justified in what kinds of cases. But whereas many historical movements wanted to achieve something *new, *something for which there were no political majorities or that governments even refused to take seriously at the time, the climate protests concerned things that *had already been agreed upon *by politicians, and for which there is, according to surveys, a lot of public support. So what the protestors require is not so much a fundamental change in mentality or legislation – but rather that societies do what they had committed themselves to doing, e.g. in the Paris agreement.
My sense was that this gave a kind of desperate character to the climate movement: they were not demanding something new, innovative, exciting. They were demanding that we all get our sh*t together and do what we know needs to be done, in our own best interest: to cut down CO2 emissions, fast. The protests were against a kind of social and political akrasia (and of course, the vested interests that want to keep things the way they are): Dear society, you’re not doing what you already long said you’d do! Stand up against big oil and finally do it!
There seems to be a difference between such protests, and protests that have a positive vision of the future, moving forward to something new. But in the case of climate politics, and with more and more countries moving away from the Paris agreement, we need to go *back *towards something on which there had been a relatively broad consensus, but that does not get implemented.
And of course, with democratic backsliding in many countries, especially the US, this pattern applies to all kinds of things: one would want to get *back *to full access to abortions, to the rule of law for immigrants, to academic freedom, etc. (where are true “conservatives”, as those who want to preserve something valuable from the past, when one needs them??). My hunch is that this makes such topics rather difficult, on an emotional front, to mobilize around. It’s not the energetic “Onwards, upwards, forward, comrades!!!” It sems more a kind of exasperated “Sigh, I can’t believe we need to discuss this again!”
So this, in a nutshell, is my hypothesis: mobilizing to preserve something of value is more difficult than mobilizing toward *new *values. And that makes it harder to resist democratic backsliding.
What complicates things even more is that right-wing populism also has its own kind of nostalgia – back to a different era, with different values. But maybe because it’s a nostalgia that goes hand in hand with black-and-white thinking and the scapegoating of outsiders, it seems to be more emotionally appealing. Or maybe it is because it taps into resentments and anxieties (some of which justified, others not) that have been simmering for such a long time? In any case, it brings more people to the streets than progressive causes do these days.
When discussing these things, at some point someone will inevitably say: “left-wing populism.” Those on the left (or indeed anyone who wants to preserve democracy) need to present their arguments in ways that are less schoolmasterly, and more emotionally gripping, using social media, attacking opponents, etc. – or so the argument goes. But I wonder whether changing tone is enough, or whether there also needs for a better sense of a “forward” – something to move towards, not just old stuff to cling to (I cringe as I write this, because the old stuff is so important, too…). Maybe some new economic agenda can do the trick, or maybe new narratives about forms of community that are *not *premised on racist or nationalist lines of exclusion. I’m almost tempted to say “whatever, as long as it opens up a new horizon”, but of course that’s too simple as well.
Does this all just show that I’m hopelessly caught in what is ultimately, after the dozens of qualifications any reasonable person would want to add, a belief in the possibility of progress? I guess deep down, at some level, yes – I want to remain hopeful. But I am fully aware that history consists of ups and downs, moves forwards and moves backwards, knows breakdowns and reconstruction. But then, the question that is implied my hypothesis is: how can mobilization happen in the downswings?
But first of all, dear readers – do you think that the hypothesis is true at all? Or is it even true that there is so little protest? I’d be more than happy to be proven wrong!