The man who talks most about winning is an expert in losing

Don’t be surprised that Trump has been peddling reasons for his eventual loss, stating that the election will be rigged against him. Don’t be surprised when he focuses more on maintaining an intense following rather than softening his message, only feigning attempts to gain wider appeal. And don’t be surprised that he’s cozy with ultra-right, and largely successful, media figures like Steve Bannon.

The man who has remained in the public eye through four bankruptcies knows how to lose. He’s not preparing his first 100 days as president, he’s preparing his next business, to be deployed on Wednesday, November 8^th. Will he start a media outlet? A new TV show? Or a consulting firm? Only time will tell, but this much is true: Trump is prepared to lose the election, and profit from it as much as possible.

This attitude is indicative of corporate America: blow smoke to inflate worth or value as much as possible and use leverage to negotiate/set-up a golden parachute, so that when you get exposed you land with more than you had originally. It’s bark with no bite, it’s style without substance, but in business and in politics, it seems to work far longer than it should. 

Safe spaces and court cases: what protesters and professors get wrong on political correctness

The recent protests on college campuses, particularly at the University of Missouri–Columbia and Yale University, targeting insufficient actions to act against racism on the parts of respective administrations, has brought to the fore a complex and important set of questions for all Americans to consider. The rhetoric in both support of, and opposition to, the angered students has made straw men of the arguments on the other side. A more informed and nuanced discussion of the role of free expression in a community with rampant racial tensions could be a step toward understanding between the opposing viewpoints.

The actions at these universities across the country have poured forth stories of the disheartening experiences of black students, both past and present. After a string of high-profile murders of black men at the hands of police officers, the country again finds itself publicly acknowledging the racial tensions that have never truly gone away. However, the story many Americans have received over the past week seems to have been twisted, with those students claiming to be victims of racism being questioned, without similar discourse around those who have been accused of actually creating victims and furthering racial tension. As Virginia Pasley has argued, “Maybe we shouldn't worry so much about the students who ask that others consider their feelings and their histories, the ones who don't want to talk to reporters, the ones who would like people to stop wearing Native American headdresses or blackface to Halloween parties.”

However, the creation of safe spaces by protesting students at Mizzou and the outrage of Yale students toward an administrator’s view on racially insensitive Halloween costumes has put free expression and political correctness in the titles of critical commentaries. Shockingly few of these critics, of course, have acknowledged that students at Mizzou may have good reason to distrust the media and its discourse. Many Americans are uncomfortable with addressing race as such, and instead would rather drip of cowardice by denigrating political correctness; a heuristic for defending racial insensitivity. Indeed, these objections to safe spaces and political correctness often come from positions of privilege: those who have experienced no need for safety and for whom culture need not be corrected.

And so the type of political correctness found on the modern university campus is a public attempt toward empathy. Supporters view the wrongs of history as seeds which bring forth the perennial pain of inequality in American society. Political correctness is one step toward denying nourishment to those seeds, in hopes they will not bloom again. Without this empathic listening and a willingness to understand the realities of others, a person with privilege often cannot see their own advantages. Urging politically correct expression, then, is one way of encouraging and displaying an understanding of the lack of socioeconomic privilege that comes with race, gender, ability, sexual orientation, and other differences. It is a way of saying that society is at least trying to recognize hardships based on these immutable characteristics.

But these realities do not render the protesters infallible. Previously, political correctness dealt exclusively with social and private constraints: violators of these norms would be shunned, boycotted, named, and shamed. However, now those seeking to uphold a more socially just culture call for the imposition of legally or institutionally punitive measures on those who utter undesired expression. This is a fundamental shift.

American law is based on philosophical liberalism, which requires the accommodation of contrary views for consideration in the marketplace of ideas. While free expression is not absolute in the U.S., protections remain broad. When striking down a statute aimed at banning cross burning, the U.S. Supreme Court wrote in a 2003 case that the government can justifiably limit “those statements where the speaker means to communicate a serious expression of an intent to commit an act of unlawful violence to a particular individual or group of individuals”. This “serious expression” of an intent to commit violence is a very specific standard for limiting expression. In 2011 the Court found the Westboro Baptist Church protected by the First Amendment when protesting a soldier’s funeral with outrageous signage. It held that the group had the right to address public issues on public property in a peaceful manner. The police can, at times, punish an expressive act for the potential results or context of that speech, but vanishingly rarely for the content thereof.

Is our legal tradition at odds with state-enforced political correctness? UCLA Law Professor Eugene Volokh seems to think so, objecting to the Mizzou university police’s request for the reporting of “hurtful” speech. University of Chicago Law Professor Geoffrey R. Stone would agree, arguing that no university should take positions on matters of substance. One Mizzou professor has accused the student protesters of having an “a la carte” approach to the First Amendment. So while supporters of these student protesters assert that free expression does not equal the freedom to bully, outraged detractors view their political correctness as a denial of legitimate political discourse, and some have gone to hyperbolically compare it to fascism.

The critics, however, have lost sight of their own context. Almost all people have a list of topics not worthy of public debate. Take miscegenation as an example: most modern-day Americans would be troubled by a university giving prominent speaking time to an individual wishing to convince others of its immorality. In classes, we would be troubled if our children were ‘taught the controversy’ that inter-racial marriage may or may not be morally defensible. We do not need to actively censor these ideas; a vast majority feel that society has resolved these issues and moved beyond these discussions. But this is generational; many Americans felt differently about miscegenation only three generations ago. Thus with present college students: what many of them find unworthy topics of serious public discourse (racially insensitive Halloween costumes, for example), older commentators find to be legitimate political issues about which reasonable people may disagree.

The modern challenge of racism is that few people are consciously or actively engaged in overt discriminatory practices which lead to evidenced subjugation of those who are not straight white males. One could sardonically note that blacks just so happen to be arrested, jailed, and killed at astronomical rates, for example. But even if racism is less legally identifiable, it is no less important to combat. Advocating for political correct expression sets the tone of acceptable discourse in society. However, involving the machinery of the state to compel socially responsible expression creates a conflict between social justice and individual liberty. Resolving that conflict in favor of social justice would require a wider re-cognition of the American legal system, which is largely based on individual liberty.

The institution of American law, of course, has been created, shaped, and maintained nearly exclusively by white males, many of whom view their job as simply calling balls and strikes. This is a problematic claim that one can and should hold inherently objective views, with no subjective reflection of one’s experiences. There rarely exists the recognition that a biased strike-zone renders the mere calling of balls and strikes an act of bias itself. Thus, yelling ‘First Amendment!’ at students of color when they demand safe spaces or institutional condemnation of racist expression comes across as tone deaf to the greater challenge of re-understanding what is fair for all in America. Many of the students making headlines have moved beyond the colorblind fallacy, understanding that race-blind policies entrench the structurally unequal status quo.

Yet here lies the nuance: while the First Amendment was in fact written entirely by white males, many of whom owned slaves, and has been almost exclusively interpreted and applied by white males, it is not inherently void. Rendering it so would be fallacious. It can be considered voidable, and the context of its creation should be understood when assessing it. Such an assessment should subject the First Amendment and the U.S. Constitution itself to debate on college campuses, full of vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp criticisms. Students should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open in their discussion of these documents, so that all races, genders, and experiences have a voice. Indeed, an inclusive discourse, where subjective experiences are expressed, where hot emotions clash with cold reason, would be most fitting for the First Amendment. Because that is all it asks for.

Simplistic and Orientalist: How Atheists Attack Religion

Over the past month a refreshed debate between atheism and Islam has been raging in the Anglosphere. While hardly new—Atheists have been intellectually attacking religion in general and Islam in particular since 9/11—this debate has intensified since the exploits of the “Islamic State” have given rise to a new brand of religiously-inspired violence which has terrified much of the West. Bill Maher, Reza Aslan, Ben Affleck and Sam Harris have been the most high-profile participants in this debate by shouting past each other on television.

But while religion genuinely has much to answer for regarding its place in and contribution to the modern world, much of the criticism by the so-called New Atheists has been simplistic and Orientalist—offending many and leaving others unconvinced.

An atheistic point of view

For those who view religion and religious belief as outsiders, it is clear that there are many troubling features of religiosity which seem antiquated at best and dangerous at worst. For example, one of the many objections to religion by Western seculars is the jailing of people like Jabeur Mejri or the repeated attacks and calls for murder against Danish cartoonist Kurt Westergaard. Both men merely posted depictions of the Prophet Mohamed. Indeed, the mocking or disrespect of any idea should never be met by the threat of physical or legal force. The schoolyard rule remains true here: words are fought with words, and only physical attacks, or the imminent threat thereof, warrant physical responses.

When attempting to discredit religiously based actions, atheists generally ignore arguments of moral relativism and instead argue in favor of universal human rights: protections for free expression, blasphemy, apostasy, and other actions which have been claimed to violate various religious traditions such as homosexuality and a denunciation of gender roles. While some see religion as the source of the conception of universal human rights, atheists find no need for religion here either, and instead find secular sources of human rights.

In the face of violent actions which are claimed to be religiously motivated, many mainstream theists (not to use moderate) attempt to distance themselves from the perpetrators thereof. However, when peaceful adherents of a religion state that violent adherents are not actually following the faith, they are engaging in a no true Scotsman argument which merely pits their interpretation of ancient texts against that of their co-religionists, whom often similarly denounces the pacifism or tolerance of the mainstream.

Reza Aslan tells us that often both the violent and peaceful versions of religion can often be validated by interpretations of the same religious text. As such, deciding who ‘truly’ represents the religion is often a fruitless and impossible task. In defending religion, Aslan states,

People of faith insert their values into their Scriptures, reading them through the lens of their own cultural, ethnic, nationalistic and even political perspectives... If you are a violent misogynist, you will find plenty in your scriptures to justify your beliefs. If you are a peaceful, democratic feminist, you will also find justification in the scriptures for your point of view.

So the pious judge religion by their previously-held views, they do not judge their views by their previously-held religion. If this is so, then it is clear that secular foundations of understanding what is right and wrong are the initial sources of our values, and only later do we mold religion to fit that understanding. It has been clear for some time that religion is not a source of scientific knowledge, and Aslan seems to unavoidably imply that it is not a source of ethics, either.

Nietzsche may not have killed God, but Darwin and now Aslan have certainly neutered him, rendering impotent his follower’s claims of wisdom and social value.

Over simplified argumentation

Despite this seemingly strong intellectual foundation from which atheists can argue, their talking points have undermined their positions by being blatantly simplistic.

For example, whether reading about conflicts in the vast majority of human history or the contemporary Arab world, separating politics, religion, and economics is not only difficult, but it renders analysis nonsensical. Attempting to blame this war or that conflict on religion—or even claiming that certain atrocities would not have occurred sans religious motivation—is an illusory argument which engages in counter-factuals and an anachronistic view of human social organization, as most societies have not viewed these concepts as inherently separate. When even the “Islamic State” imposes a claimed “Islamic customs duty” at the edge of their controlled territory, the goals seem more financial than faithful.

Attempting to remove mixed and alternative motivations like individual variables in a physics experiment shows how much more complicated the human world can be than the physical world. If religion provided the only necessary motivation toward violence, then all religious people would be violent. Once another variable is admitted, the confidence in our conclusions must be questioned: is religion the driver and politics or nationalism or patriotism or xenophobia the passenger, or vice versa? This ambiguity shows that it is supremely foolish to conclude that religion is the source of all of our troubles.

Religion is not ‘off the hook’ for providing an excuse to systematically oppress women, nonbelievers, homosexuals, and others for a majority of human history, however. It simply must reasonably share the blame with other human fears, desires, motivations, and institutions.

The original sin of Orientalism

More insidious than poor reasoning is Orientalism. Herein the term will be used to mean a Western tendency and attempt to simplify, other, and impose external interpretations on Islam. While figures like Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, and Bill Maher have attacked Christianity and religion in general, Islam has been somewhat of an obsession of these vocal critics.

Harris argues that Islam is simply different: its falsehoods more false, its dangers more dangerous. Harris’s contention that modern terrorism flows from Islam dances dangerously close to belonging on Fox News—and is simply incorrect. But the criticism does not stop at an association with terrorism. “Islam breeds theocracy!” many Western atheists have claimed. Any more than Christianity? The goals and methods of Christians have been, both historically and presently, little different than the goals and methods of Muslims, and 34% of Americans want the United States to be a Christian theocracy. While the support for theocracy may be higher in many majority Muslim countries, it’s important to note that the difference is numerical, not categorical. Up until the 1960s Catholic Church had no requirement that non-Catholics be given rights to practice their religion, a guarantee found in the Quran and many historical interpretations thereof (though subject to the problems of interpretation mentioned above). “Islam is anti-democratic!” other Westerners have claimed. Less democratic than Catholicism, with its patriarchal, trans-national hierarchy which emphasizes lay obedience? Many questioned whether Catholic countries could become democratic back when they were the popular group to be othered.

Make no mistake, however: It is specifically Islam which is the object of derision from the New Atheists, not simply non-Western religions. Ignored has been the violence of Buddhists against Muslims, as well as Hindu attacks in India against Hindu female -Muslim male weddings. Just as religious people can justify their motives with religion, these prominent atheists justify their xenophobia toward Islam with critical argumentation. Islam is historically no aberration with respect to other religions on issues of tolerance and violence. Many of its adherents, however, have been the victims of historical and structural violence against their identity groups, the results of which they deal with daily. While there is no acceptable justification for offensive violent action, it is important to understand that this is a background to some of the violence in the Muslim world. Having empathy can allow one to see the broader social and political context in which violence in the name of Islam sometimes occurs. Given similar political and historical backgrounds, violence would find a similar audience within our society, as well. Such empathy would allow us to work with Muslims to mitigate the causes of these exacerbations of violence instead of only addressing their symptoms. But because we live in a post-9/11 world where many Anglophones are unfamiliar with the anthropological context of Islam, the religion of a growing number of those with whom we share our communities, attacking the entire Muslim world is an easy way to sell books and gain applause.

Suggestions for future discussions

Where does the conversation go from here, then? Here are four suggestions for analyzing the role of religion in society and dialogue between atheists and theists:

First, social commentators must take theists at their word when they state religion is the motivation for their actions. Yes, religion is a scapegoat for many, but to impose onto an actor our external ideas of what are his or her real motivations are is simply another form of imperialism. If someone is willing to kill or die for a belief, who are we to not take that person at his or her word, and to simply make presumptions about authenticity and intentions? If the societal value of religion is strong enough to inspire others to commit violence and act immorally, it is a social force worth critiquing. Nonetheless, be mindful about what implicit motivations might also exist: What are their stated goals? What are their methods of achieving those goals? What are the steps taken toward those goals?

Second, religion is simply an identity, which, like any other identity, breeds shared experience, exclusion, animosity, a sense of belonging, and social division. Reza Aslan writes, “As a form of identity, religion is inextricable from all the other factors that make up a person’s self-understanding, like culture, ethnicity, nationality, gender and sexual orientation.” Even Richard Dawkins has conceded that volunteers for the “Islamic State” sign-up more out of a sense of tribalism than religion. Political science has known for some time that divided societies are generally harder to govern than monolithic ones, and in that way the continued existence of religion presents a political challenge across the world.

Third, all beliefs, including democracy and Islam, must be criticized, defended, and mocked. This is because correct beliefs will be found through a free marketplace of ideas, wherein beliefs are attacked, allowing us to see if they are strongly grounded in reason. Otherwise, we would be engaging in censorship, allowing an authority to determine which beliefs are correct or incorrect. Stifling debate and the flow of beliefs artificially limits the scope of belief destruction and creation, impeding the progress of human thinking and innovation.

Fourth, atheists are generally literalists. Many atheists can only read texts, religious or otherwise, literally. In an odd way, atheists need the religious fundamentalist, the person who thinks Adam and Eve really existed and Noah’s Ark was really built. Atheists know how to counter factual claims, and thus take comfort in easily uncovering the meaning of a text upon its first reading. This is why atheists discount religious texts which have inherent contradictions or are as vague as horoscopes in supplying wisdom. Atheists must realize that religion for many, but of course not all, is an emotional connection with others, a sense of comfort, and something which many believers are fine with not analyzing line-by-line. All the Muslims that I have met, similar to any other religious group, simply want to be good people and to have those they respect view them as such. To the extent that religion is involved in that, which varies greatly, they are religious.

Secularism, especially coupled with humanism, offers a strong alternative to religion as how people see the universe and reality. However, when criticizing religion, atheists must be diligent in crafting arguments. Making shallow statements about the blood on the hands of religion or launching thinly-veiled xenophobic critiques toward Islam will not lead to apostasy, but will encourage Muslims and others to do what all humans do when their identity is being challenged by an outside force: double-down and become stubborn. As is true for much of life, humility and empathy on the part of the religious critic here can go a long way.

Moral Relativism and Public Diplomacy

To continue my ‘X and Public Diplomacy’ blog series, I wish to discuss the importance of moral relativism—or moral absolutism—in the realm of public diplomacy and foreign policy in general.

For centuries, the European view of indigenous people was paternalistic and ethnocentric—to not be Europeans and Christian instantly diminished the worth of a person or a value. Recently (relatively speaking), many in the West have shifted, as if to make up for past injustices, toward a more judgment-free approach toward the moral values of other cultures. This view, moral relativism, is ubiquitous in anthropological and sociological literature. As a modern, accepting people, so the argument goes, we shall not narrow-mindedly impose our morals on others.

The question, of course, is this: is there an objective measure by which one can judge the morals of a people? Sam Harris, in his new book The Moral Landscape, seems to think so. Harris holds that the highest moral good is that which promotes the well-being of all sentient creatures. Thus, any act that is counter to promoting general well-being is morally bad. Despite being well versed in philosophy, he glosses over centuries of philosophical discourse on the subject and falls into a form of utilitarianism.

However, Harris makes a key point: unknown is not the same as unknowable. Just because we have yet to coalesce on a singular measure of objective moral judgment does not mean that we will not be able to do so in the future. On this point I agree. In light of the history of scientific and rational progress, we cannot say that the fields of neuroscience, evolutionary biology, and anthropology will never advance and be able to determine that certain actions, beliefs, and principles are clearly counter to human well-being.

In light of recent events, are the rights that the Tunisians, Egyptians, and others fought for objectively morally good?  Can one say that deploring despotic rule is merely a subjective preference, based on little more than culturally arbitrary preferences? One’s answer to these questions is vital to one’s view of public diplomacy. If the answer is that there is no objective truth on such moral questions, then why should the American people try to influence other cultures with portraying our values of democracy and human rights? If public diplomacy is only to serve our subjectivity to the ends of our national trade or diplomacy interests, should it be valued as a legitimate field, or simply method of propaganda?

I view public diplomacy more expansively. I ask not (and promote not) what values best serves my country or my people in the economic and diplomatic sphere, I ask (and promote) what values I feel are objectively aligned with the promotion of human well-being. Anything less would relegate the validation of public diplomacy to a role morality.

When science catches up to society and we begin to get more answers to our most basic questions (and once it does, one cannot assume that any of our Western morals would prove to be best), I will be waiting—ready to view the evidence and improve my own public diplomacy. What right do I have to tell a conservative Muslim that women should not wear the veil? Someday, perhaps as much right as I have to tell a conservative Christian that the Earth is four and a half billion years old.