“Nothing that we despise in other men is inherently absent from ourselves.”
―
This is hard to write, as anything involving self-reflection does. One of my many vices is the tendency to be, well, self-righteous and unforgiving. And yet I do like to think of myself a civil, reasonable person.
But 2 weekends ago I found myself being anything but.
Much of the following refers to Ben Sasse, but it’s also not really about Sasse. If you believe that President Trump truly had legal and constitutional authority to declare a national emergency, and that the Republican Senators who defected are traitor RINOs, this applies to you too. Just imagine, say, that a hurricane devastated Florida and Rubio went to tour the damage.
I have made it clear in my prior post that I think Trump did NOT have such authority, or that even if he did, that the same law granting him that, also granted the Congress to authority to terminate the emergency. And that I was quite disappointed when Sasse voted against the House resolution to do exactly that.
Two days after that vote, Sasse posted numerous tweets from his personal Twitter account. The subject of all of them were the unprecedented floods that had turned his home state, Nebraska, into a disaster zone — and a state of emergency.
The replies to this Tweet and others, as he posted numerous pictures of the damage, came swiftly — and mercilessly. “So, a REAL emergency?”
When he lamented that the story was not getting much coverage in national news media, many replied to point out, that perhaps recent actions of his had hurt his credibility with the media, as to what constituted a real emergency.
Not to mention the chronic trolls who would have descended upon him anyway. Now I usually simply ignore such trolls. When I first signed up for Twitter, I did not do so planning to become one myself.
But that day, full of self-righteous anger, I did.
It didn’t start out that way. I did praise him for raising awareness of the events. But when he posted a PSA warning against fake GoFundMe sites and posted links to legitimate charities, I couldn’t resist posting this:
Then a fellow Tweeter posted this:
I pressed on.
Only to get this:
Well, that made me pause.
But I continued to reply to other Tweets with self-righteous verbiage as if possessed by Tom Nichols. (I read them again before writing this blog post and cringed repeatedly.)
At one point, in reply to (yet another) Tweet questioning my behavior, I posted:
“He deserves it”.
And that was my take as I continued to rage-tweet. He deserves it. He deserves it. He deserves every bit of mockery and disparagement he gets for selling out.
But then … I came across a reply to a Tweet about the loss of a bridge. I wound up blocking the person so I don’t have a screenshot, but it essentially said he didn’t care about what Nebraska and didn’t want a dime of HIS hard earned money to go to rebuilding the bridge, because, the poster claimed, Sasse hadn’t supported enough disaster relief for Puerto Rico.
Well, this went too far for me. I posted this:
Also around this time, another Tweet came across my timeline with a link to this story:
Well that was terrible, I thought. A MAGA idiot interrupting a vigil for victims of mass murder to tout the Magic Wall? Pretty lame, pretty out of place, whether you believe the Wall is a good idea or not.
But then as I turned back to Sasse’s Twitter feed, it occurred to me; was that so different than what I, and the other members of this mob, were doing ourselves?
Then I conducted a thought experiment. What if a group of protesters unhappy with a politician’s vote, had followed him around, as he toured a disaster zone, screaming, “FRAUD” and “YOU HAVE NO CREDIBILITY” and “NOW DO YOU SEE WHAT A REAL EMERGENCY IS” or “NOW DO YOU BELIEVE IN CLIMATE CHANGE”?
I’d have thought they were a bunch of lunatics who had forsaken all concept of basic decency, and all compassion for the disaster victims, in order to score political points. Especially if they had parachuted in from outside the state to do so.
Did it really make a difference that this was happening on Twitter, and not real life?
Some, of course, would say yes. Look at Tweets from most politicians (other than ones who ruthlessly block dissenters) and you’ll see most of the replies are from Tweeters who don’t exactly warmly support the politician. I could go into a rant on how Twitter encourages negative replies, but that isn’t the point.
Neither is the point whether Ben Sasse, himself, “deserved” all of this anger. Often, the main critique of outrage mobs (such as the recent one driving the #BoycottTucker and #FireTucker hashtags) is that the anger is feigned, or performative. I am sure this was indeed the case for some trolls, but as I noted in detail in my open letter to Sasse, my anger and disappointment at his putting politics before his stated principles was all too real.
But…did that justify what I was doing, even in the face of protest from actual Nebraskans and others affected by the disaster?
It didn’t. Not because he didn’t “deserve” it. But because one vote on a bill that was never going to survive a presidential veto, was not worth me putting politics before MY principles. That certainly include NOT being an insensitive lunatic who screams at politicians and ignores pleas from disaster victims.
Now, from following Sasse’s Twitter I know he reads at least some of his replies. So when he posted this quote from a friend, it certainly seemed to indicate the dragging over his vote was starting to get to him …
…but my anger at him remained. I was very tempted to reply:
“So NOW you post about not caring who votes Red or Blue? Quite convenient for you, if we didn’t, isn’t it? You betrayed your principles, put your party over the country and had the audacity to blame Nancy Pelosi for it. Shut up and go away!”
But I didn’t. I also saw thousands of Likes for that Tweet, from people who must have agreed with him. So this is what I posted instead:
And suddenly I felt something I hadn’t felt before in all my previous rage-tweeting that day. Peace.
I felt like I had reclaimed part of myself that I’d lost somewhere along the way.
Not long after that I came across reviews of the new book, “Love Your Enemies” by Arthur Brooks of the American Enterprise Institute. I also came across a NYT essay by Brooks based on the book.
In one such review on RollCall.com by Helen Raleigh, One of Brooks’ points is summarized thus:
In his view, when you are angry with someone, you still want to engage. But contempt is worse than anger because “contempt represents not merely an outburst following a moment of deep frustration with another but rather an enduring attitude of complete disdain.”
Yes. Somehow, I’d gone from anger to contempt. Not just at Sasse himself but anyone I’d encountered on Twitter that day, who didn’t share my contempt for him. How dare they try to defend the fraud!
But I’d managed to overcome it. How?
Again from Raleigh’s review:
In his book, Brooks gives an example of his own. Once he received an email from a reader who criticized every chapter of his book. Brooks faced three options: ignore him; write back to insult him; pick some faults in the email and destroy the email’s author. Instead, Brooks chose a fourth option. He wrote back to thank the email’s author for reading his book.
The email’s author was shocked because he didn’t expect to hear from Brooks at all. So he wrote back to invite Brooks for beer next time when Brooks was in his neck of the woods. Brooks’ conclusion from this experience? It was the practice of this warm-heartedness that broke a possible cycle of contempt, which left both Brooks and the reader feeling good about themselves and the other person despite their disagreement.
This, I realized, is what I had done when I had replied to Sasse, at the end of the day, not to slam him yet again, but to thank him. Reach inside myself and pull out a scrap of warm-heartedness.
Now there is a big difference in that, when Brooks’ replied to the critical e-mail, the critic actually wrote back. It is very unlikely Sasse took any particular notice of my reply among the hundreds of others.
But it did break me out of my contempt for him.
As Brooks himself notes in a New York Times essay based on his book:
Next, each of us can make a commitment never to treat others with contempt, even if we believe they deserve it. This might sound like a call for magnanimity, but it is just as much an appeal to self-interest. Contempt makes persuasion impossible — no one has ever been hated into agreement, after all — so its expression is either petty self-indulgence or cheap virtue signaling, neither of which wins converts.
What if you have been guilty of saying contemptuous things about or to others? Perhaps you have hurt someone with your harsh words, mockery or dismissiveness. I have, and I’m not proud of it. Start the road to recovery from this harmful addiction, and make amends wherever possible. It will set you free.
Very true. So, two days after the (Tweet) storm, I went to one of Sasse’s Tweets to post this:
And this:
And apologizing DID set me free.
This is not to say I plan to stop following politics completely, or will never critique Sasse (or any other public figure) ever again, but … the haze of contempt has lifted from me. I hope I never fall into it again. Not because some people may or may not “deserve” it, but because, in the end, being filled with contempt degrades me. I want to be better than that.