Governor Romney’s selection of Congressman Ryan as his running mate assured the re-election of President Obama. Will Milberg already explained this from the point of view of the politics of economics a year and a half ago, while I first suggested my reasons in my review of Obama’s 2011 State of the Union address and Ryan’s official Republican response.

Romney has now firmly identified himself with a true-believing ideologist. The Ryan – Romney budget proposals, empowered by Ryan’s ideology, will hurt the guy who wanted Obama to keep his dirty, government hands off his Medicare, and many more people who depend on social programs in their daily lives. Thus, Milberg was quite sure when the Ryan plan was announced that the Republicans were finished.

And even though the nation is very divided, ideological extremism, even when it is in the name of the core American value of liberty, turns people, left, right and center, off, as the Republican nominee for president, Barry Goldwater learned in 1964.

Ryan’s ideology is not completely coherent. It has three sources: libertarian thought, a fundamentalist approach to the constitution, and a narrow understanding of natural law theory and the theological foundations of modern democracy. He recognizes tensions between these positions, but it doesn’t seem to bother him or slow him down. He still moves from theoretical certainty to practical policy as a true believer, and he does it with a happy and appealing smile on his face, which would be quite familiar to Milan Kundera, as he depicted such smiles in his novels A Book on Laughter and Forgetting and The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

The Congressman’s libertarianism comes via Ayn Rand, revealed in a speech he gave to the organization dedicated to keeping her flame, the Atlas Society. He explained:

I grew up reading Ayn Rand and it taught me quite a bit about who I am and what my value systems are, and what my beliefs are. It’s inspired me so much that it’s required reading in my office for all my interns and my staff. We start with Atlas Shrugged. People tell me I need to start with The Fountainhead then go to Atlas Shrugged [laughter]. There’s a big debate about that. We go to Fountainhead, but then we move on, and we require Mises and Hayek as well.

But the reason I got involved in public service, by and large, if I had to credit one thinker, one person, it would be Ayn Rand. And the fight we are in here, make no mistake about it, is a fight of individualism versus collectivism.

In almost every fight we are involved in here, on Capitol Hill, whether it’s an amendment vote that I’ll take later on this afternoon, or a big piece of policy we’re putting through our Ways and Means Committee, it is a fight that usually comes down to one conflict: individualism vs. collectivism.

Ryan approaches the constitution as a libertarian and an avowed enemy of progressivism. He explained in an interview with Glenn Beck, which led Beck to become Ryan’s very strong advocate.

What I have been trying to do, and if you read the entire Oklahoma speech or read my speech to Hillsdale College that they put in there on Primus Magazine, you can get them on my Facebook page, what I’ve been trying to do is indict the entire vision of progressivism because I see progressivism as the source, the intellectual source for the big government problems that are plaguing us today and so to me it’s really important to flush progressives out into the field of open debate.

GLENN: I love you.

PAUL RYAN: So people can actually see what this ideology means and where it’s going to lead us and how it attacks the American idea.

GLENN: Okay. Hang on just a second. I ‑‑ did you see my speech at CPAC?

PAUL RYAN: I’ve read it. I didn’t see it. I’ve read it, a transcript of it.

GLENN: And I think we’re saying the same thing. I call it ‑‑

PAUL RYAN: We are saying the same thing.

GLENN: It’s a cancer.

PAUL RYAN: Exactly. Look, I come from ‑‑ I’m calling you from Janesville, Wisconsin where I’m born and raised.

GLENN: Holy cow.

PAUL RYAN: Where we raise our family, 35 miles from Madison. I grew up hearing about this stuff. This stuff came from these German intellectuals to Madison‑University of Wisconsin and sort of out there from the beginning of the last century. So this is something we are familiar with where I come from. It never sat right with me. And as I grew up, I learned more about the founders and reading the Austrians and others that this is really a cancer because it basically takes the notion that our rights come from God and nature and turns it on its head and says, no, no, no, no, no, they come from government, and we here in government are here to give you your rights and therefore ration, redistribute and regulate your rights. It’s a complete affront of the whole idea of this country and that is to me what we as conservatives, or classical liberals if you want to get technical.

GLENN: Thank you.

PAUL RYAN: ‑‑ ought to be doing to flush this out. So what I was simply tying to do in that speech was simply saying those first versions, those first progressives, they tried to use populism and popular ideas as a means to getting ‑‑ detaching people from the Constitution and founding principles to pave the way for the centralized bureaucratic welfare state.

In the Hillsdale Speech and the Oklahoma speech Ryan does indeed explain himself more fully. His way of thinking about contemporary problems is deductive. He starts with simple propositions about the world, liberty and the rule of law, and then based on these propositions he understands complexity in a way that is quite similar to Beck’s approach. Progressivism bad. Individualism good. The constitution is understood as a univocal document that supports one party, the Republican Party, and its present agenda. The Democrats and their leader, on the other hand, are seen as undermining the founding document. They are a cancer, not opponents, but enemies.

This is where Ryan parts company with Rand. Instead of her atheism, he believes that the American system is a manifestation of God’s will. This he strikingly demonstrated in his speech on Saturday, accepting Romney’s nomination of him for Vice President. He declared: “Our rights come from nature and God, not government.” The sentence passed without much notice. Red meat for the religious right no doubt. But I wonder whose God and why God, and whose account of nature? Is it that of sound biology and environmental science? Or is it the creationist account? This is scary stuff. And I think as Americans went in response to Goldwater, they will go as well with Romney – Ryan.

Perhaps, therefore, the Romney – Ryan ticket will try to moderate their positions. Romney’s politics is notably flexible. Ryan is the ideologue. Romney isn’t. But they will then be running not only against Obama, but also against themselves. Romney was for “Romney – Obama Care,” until he was against it, and now Romney and Ryan may try being against (or perhaps more accurately not completely for) the Ryan Budget after they were for it. As Milberg put it: Obama Wins!

The conclusion of my presentation will highlight the counter trend, the “no” side of my answer to our question, doing so by linking two of my major projects, the study of the politics of small things and of reinventing political culture. I will suggest, further, the need to carefully consider Daniel Dayan’s ideas of monstration. In my conclusion, I will make a sort of book proposal for Dayan and me to work on, so that the weaknesses of my approach can be addressed. I will move toward the conclusion first by examining what I take to be the way a cable television network contributes to the sickness of democracy, specifically in the United States – the yes side of my answer to our question. I will then make my second move, to the no side, considering how social media and other new forms of electronic media open the opportunity for a counter trend, supporting the politics of small things. I analyze both tendencies as they are tied to significant social movements that define and redefine political culture, for better and for worse: the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street. I want to be clear that I don’t see the problems and potentials I identify here as being primarily the consequence of media form, cable news, bad, online media, good. Rather I maintain that media forms shape, support and undermine the formation of social and political movements and institutions.  The social and the political are my message, not the media.

Yes

Fox News, Rupert Murdoch’s spectacularly successful cable news network in the United States, is not just biased. It is a political mobilization machine, shaping the political landscape. Consider the criticism of a well-known social thinker.

In September, 2010, Barack Obama offered a critique of Fox in an interview published in Rolling Stone magazine. This absolutely shocked and appalled Fox shock jocks Bill O’Reilly and Sean Hannity, the following evenings. They, the most popular in house celebrities on Fox TV, were shocked by any suggestion that they were anything but “fair and balanced,” the newspeak slogan of the tendentious network. In their self-presentation, they provide the alternative to the kowtowing liberals of the mainstream media. They were appalled by Obama’s criticism.

Yet, their response is cynical. They pretend to be what they are not, news commentators on a news network. Obama’s critique on the other hand is on firmer ground, even if it is not clear that it was wise. Isn’t it below the President’s dignity to engage in polemics with partisan press criticism? Doesn’t it enlarge them and belittle him?  These are the questions of the talking heads on cable and on the Sunday morning shows, in the television and radio discussions that followed the publication of the President’s interview.

Yet, actually in the interview Obama was quite careful, offering a measured serious answer to a provocative question:

Rolling Stone: “What do you think of Fox News? Do you think it’s a good institution for America and for democracy?”

President Obama: “[Laughs] Look, as president, I swore to uphold the Constitution, and part of that Constitution is a free press. We’ve got a tradition in this country of a press that oftentimes is opinionated. The golden age of an objective press was a pretty narrow span of time in our history. Before that, you had folks like Hearst who used their newspapers very intentionally to promote their viewpoints. I think Fox is part of that tradition — it is part of the tradition that has a very clear, undeniable point of view. It’s a point of view that I disagree with. It’s a point of view that I think is ultimately destructive for the long-term growth of a country that has a vibrant middle class and is competitive in the world. But as an economic enterprise, it’s been wildly successful. And I suspect that if you ask Mr. Murdoch what his number-one concern is, it’s that Fox is very successful.”

Obama placed Fox in a tradition of opinionated American journalism, and noted he disagreed with the Fox opinions and doesn’t think they are good for America. While I don’t see how a reasonable person, either pro or anti-Obama, can find fault with his response, I also don’t think that Obama went far enough. Serious media innovation is occurring at Fox, with potentially deep political effects. It is probably the reason why Obama feels compelled to criticize it from time to time.

Fox News is a truly innovative media form, particularly for television.  It purports to present news, but actually it is in the business of political mobilization. I think this is a specific American case, but it may be indicative of a general trend, the substitution of media for political parties.

In the important case of the Tea Party protests, this was most clear. Glenn Beck, a particularly flamboyant Fox News commentator who later lost his job, announced a mass demonstration, the “9/12 Rally.” On the Fox News programs and discussion shows, the developments leading up to the demonstration were reported, and their significance was discussed. Together with Beck’s agitation for the event, these reports and discussions brought the planned event to the attention of a large audience. Even if the event was initially the result of grassroots organization, as were the Tea Party Protests called for “tax day,” April 15, 2009, the attention of the public to the event went well beyond its original planners and their capacity to mobilize the population.

Dayan highlights the importance of this showing in his work on “monstration.” In his research, he is particularly interested in how the experience and expressions of a particular social circle move beyond a delimited public, and is brought to the attention of broader publics, an insight that can be found both in the work of the French classical sociologist, Gabrielle Tarde and the American pragmatist, John Dewey. This act is of primary political significance in media politics, something Fox has done very well, helping the previously marginal to become part of the mainstream. What is intriguing about Fox News is how they systematically work on the act of monstration and actually connect it to the work of social mobilization. I wonder sometimes whether the Republican Party has become the Fox Party, with many, perhaps most, of the potential Republican Party candidates for president for the 2012 election to President having worked as paid employees of the television news service.

In the case of the 9/12 rally, the Fox produced media event happened. Fox was there giving it full coverage. It was the major event of the day, the story that was given wall to wall coverage, while the other news sources tended to report it as one story among many. It was a kind of sacred presentation while other news services viewed it as part of the mundane daily events. The fact that only Fox “properly” reported on the event was said to reveal the bias of the “lame stream media,” to use the language of the American media critic and Fox commentator, Sarah Palin. This format applies to major happenings, but also to the trivial, from the Islamic bias of textbooks in Texas, to the booing of Palin’s daughter Bristol on “Dancing with the Stars,” a popular entertainment show, to the networks annual campaign against “the war on Christmas.” (a particularly surreal campaign, in which the fact that public actors say happy holidays rather than Merry Christmas is said to reveal the anti – Christian bias of the liberal elites in government and the corporate sector)

Contrary to Obama, Fox is not just biased as it reports the news. It produces the news from beginning to end, conflating news reporting with the political action that is the story. Murdock’s number one concern may be to be successful, as President Obama maintained in Rolling Stone, but it is notable that the success is political as well as monetary.  Rupert Murdock and News Corp make money, while America is given a strong coordinated push to the right.

Note here: there is a way in which Beck’s rally could be understood from the perspective of Daniel Boorstein, in his classical critique of broadcast news, as a pseudo event. It was produced for television, was news only as it appeared on television. Generally, I have been convinced, along with most media analysts, that Boorstein’s work doesn’t really confront the new realities of the televisual age. Because in politics appearances are realities (Arendt), and because in the age of television, public attention to things political occurs through TV, there does not seem to be anything pseudo about such events. To play a little with the old theorem of W.I. Thomas, (i.e. “If men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences”) if political actions appear as real on television, they are real in their consequences.

I think no study better demonstrates this, no book more forcefully reveals the weakness of Boorstein’s position, than Dayan and Katz’s classic Media Events. I think that theirs is a modern classic. Yet, nonetheless, I also think we must take into account that there is something pseudo about Fox and company. As in the case of the 9/12 March, they specialize not simply in broadcasting news from a point of view. They specialize in the self-conscious production of political reality, and they do this with a thoroughness that I believe is unprecedented in the U.S. They turn fiction into facts and facts into fictions, from Obama’s citizenship to non-existent death panels in healthcare legislation, to non-existent mosques that threaten America at ground zero, to the importance of political candidates.

This sickens democracy. Facts have become partisan, e.g. global warming. Science has become a matter of political debate, e.g. evolution. Republican politicians now have to explain why they would give priority to the latter in schools and why they may have once taken seriously the former before they became more enlightened, e.g. the position of the once front runner in the race for the Republican nomination to be President of the United States, Newt Gingrich.  In one of the Republican presidential primary debates, the Republican candidates for president faced a panel of right wing state attorney generals, grand conservative inquisitors, who sought to unmask any and all liberal tendencies in the candidates’ pasts, seeking reassurance of their ideological purity. This media event was produced and broadcasted by Fox.

These developments are encouraged by a media form that is extremely popular and clearly partisan, but calls itself “fair and balanced” (the networks slogan). It has helped to create a deeply polarized public, with mutually exclusive perceptions of reality.

Let me state forthrightly what I take to be the major problem and why I think it is particularly serious. In the present media environment, facts have become indistinguishable from political fictions for a large segment of the American public. The distinction between public and private concerns is disappearing. News and entertainment have become the same coin. In the case of Murdoch’s Fox News, tabloid sensation and ideological politics have been fused. I also see this creeping into other media forms: more and more another cable news network, MSNBC, has become the mirror image, on the left, of Fox. Though I often agree with the partisan stance of its reporters and commentators, they are increasingly trying to produce a counter reality to the world according to Fox, rather than a way to understand the world or to develop a particular partisan position. And even in what I think to be the best source of news in the United States, The New York Times, the present format of the week in review section, published every Sunday, makes it increasingly difficult to distinguish reporting, analysis and opinion.

Thus, I think democracy is indeed sick of its own media, and for good reasons. Yet, this trend, “the Foxification of American democracy,” and its media, centered by the intimate connection between Fox and right wing politics, is far from the whole story. There are, of course, many in the traditional media who work to maintain conventional standards, difficult, but not impossible in the print and broadcast journalism. But new electronic media now play a special role. Take an amusing illustration of a counter trend, as a movement towards my grounds for answering our question in the negative.

No

I was enchanted by the idea of the “Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear” in October of 2010, produced by America’s two star television satirists.  I have enjoyed the programs of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert as an antidote for the political madness of our times, produced for another cable news network, Comedy Central. Especially during the worst years of the Iraq war, I watched them to maintain my own sanity. In their rally, they accurately highlighted the strength of their satire, looking for sanity in insane times, using the form of the day, the great Washington Rally organized by cable television, mimicking the production of Glenn Beck on Fox. As you have seen, I have principled problems with this new form of “Media Events,” but such is the world we now live in.  Stewart and Colbert claimed that theirs wasn’t a response to the Glenn Beck organized event, but it clearly was.  There is irony in their satire, which challenges political clarity, but for good cultural reasons.

I was pleased by the turn out.  It seems that more people attended the Stewart Colbert satirical event, than attended Beck’s earnest rally to restore honor. I appreciated that “we” saw ourselves as outnumbering “them,” and it felt good.  But was there any more to it than that?

There indeed was concern in this regard. The ambiguity of the event’s meaning led to significant criticism after the fact, most vividly expressed by another political satirist, Bill Maher, in his response.

The left and the right are not equally insane, Maher and other critics pointed out.  The problem is not in the media portrayal of our politics, something that Colbert and especially Stewart seem to focus on, but the politics itself. The event energized a part of the public, but didn’t lead to specific political action. This was just before the midterm elections, which promised to lead to broad Democratic Party losses and Tea Party gains, which proved to be the case. The only person to even allude to the elections was Tony Bennett in his closing performance, calling out to people “Vote!” after singing “America the Beautiful.” It was a political event about nothing according to Maher, echoes of Seinfeld here.

Stewart in his nightly show defended himself in amusing ways,which suggests to me how democracy is being healed by its media. His main point: the rally was about something, just not about what his critics wanted. Stewart is mostly concerned not with the partisan disagreements, but that we have lost our ability to disagree civilly and constructively. His critics in turn wonder whether it is possible to constructively disagree when one side of the disagreement is acting in a fundamentally dishonest way. The confusion of fact with fictions does indeed seem to be particularly a Republican ailment. Assertions about death panels, the illegitimacy of the Obama Presidency because of his non – citizenship, wild claims about the dangers of Sharia law in Oklahoma, and the crime wave and voting fraud being perpetuated by illegal aliens, all come from Republicans in engaging important debates of the day without any notable use of facts. They do not have Democratic equivalents.  How then can Stewart claim to be non-partisan?   We have to watch Colbert and Stewart’s tongues as they go into their cheeks.

This debate on the left, and the ambiguity of the event, I think, underscores a fundamental problem in American political culture. There is too clear a correlation between commitments to facts and party identification. One party is associated with facts, while the other seems to be more committed to its own fictions. Indeed, more disturbing than the disagreements about how to address the problems of climate change is that the scientific finding of global warming has somehow become a partisan issue. More unsettling than the disagreements about the details of the stimulus package is the fact that there are those who seem to deny that there really were dangers of the collapse of the financial system and a global depression on the order of the Great Depression of the 1930’s.  And though I have to accept that some are not as thrilled as I am by the fact that America has matured to the point that it has elected an extremely intelligent African American President, bi-racial, with Muslims in his family tree, it is deeply unsettling that there are those who live with the falsehood that he is somehow not really American, and that elected representatives of the Republican Party actually perpetrate this lie or do little to criticize them. One party has become the party of facts, the other of fictions. Truth shouldn’t be a partisan issue, but it has become one, in many different instances.

Stewart and Colbert and their critics disagree about how to voice objection to this situation, and about their perceived roles. But they are responding to the same political cultural dilemma. How to fight against the fictions that Republican partisans are using to mobilize their constituencies so effectively?

Enter Occupy Wall Street: Social Media and the politics of small things

The Rally was of those who oppose such politics and such media, which lightly substitute such fictions for facts. The participants and their supporters, and their liberal critics, became visible in large numbers. The next step was a more forthright organization that addresses both the distortion of media fictoids, working against the policies they justify. The need for this step was apparent at the Rally and in the discussion about it. The need has been filled with a social movement that uses irony in its rather nebulous political claims, demonstrating for the 99%, symbolically occupying the seat of American and indeed global finance capitalism. And as I tried above, they need to organize to act not only against policies they disagree with, but also against lies. As the Republicans obstructed responsible governance, I had hoped against a sense of hopelessness, to see an alternative cast against the Tea Party mobilization. And now Occupy Wall Street has appeared. A key to this will be a commitment to truth, something to which the Colbert Stewart Rally, its participants and organizers contributed.

This is where we move from the television, albeit cable, to newer electronic media. Clearly a new kind of politics is upon us. Many observers have highlighted the technological characteristics of this politics. Cell phones, and Facebook and other social media, blogs and the like, are the heroes in these accounts of the Arab Spring, the Israeli summer, and now of not only the Tea Party but also Occupy Wall Street. Yet, these accounts are often unsatisfying, when they don’t focus on the human agency of the new politics, the specific type of political action that is ascendant. We should recognize the importance of the new media, but it seems to me that what is extraordinary is the way a type of power, political power as Hannah Arendt understood it, is becoming increasingly important. People are meeting each other, now virtually and not only face to face, freely speaking and acting in each other’s presence, developing a capacity to act in concert. Arendt maintained that this type of activity defined politics, as the opposite of coercion. I think that she exaggerates her position. But I do think that this kind of politics is ascendant in what Vaclav Havel named “the power of the powerless,” the power of what I call “the politics of small things.”

I analyzed the way this power works in our world in my book, The Politics of Small Things. It points to the way the power of “the politics of small things” was common to both Solidarność in opposition to the previously existing socialist order in Poland of the 80s, and to the anti-war movement and the Dean campaign during the Bush years in America. Now, I think the power of the politics of small things is becoming a significant force throughout the world in many different contexts, and that it is important to take notice in places far and near, in North Africa and the Middle East, in South Korea, in the candle movement, which I have analyzed a bit with the help of Jaeho Kang, and in the Tea Party in the US, and in what has become the worldwide Occupy Wall Street movement. Here I will examine Occupy Wall Street and consider how media in supporting this and similar social movements contribute to the health of democracy, how these media present an antidote to the illness caused by other media.It is important to remember how small Occupy Wall Street was in the beginning and how small it remained. To begin with, it was just a couple of dozen people who met each other and planned the action in lower Manhattan. The first occupiers were in the hundreds, reaching the thousands only when the police acted out and stimulated greater support and focused broad media and public interest (pepper spraying became a particularly favored devise for this, first in New York and then beyond). Among themselves, the activists in OWP created something unusual. They developed rules of conduct and decision-making that were radically inclusive and democratic. They found common ground with simple ideas, the most compelling focusing on gross inequality in America, contrasting a power elite, i.e. “Wall Street,” with everyone else, i.e. “The 99%.” I observe in this case, what I observed studying Solidarność and the anti war movement and the Dean campaign, how consequential power can be generated when people interact with each other, committed to shared ends and how their interactions were important ends in themselves, of significance beyond the immediate group involved.

As with previous instances of the politics of small things, the form of Occupy Wall Street expresses its content. But, there are some telling special qualities of the latest developments.

First is the way social media contributes to the OWS form. Jenny Davis, in a recent contribution to my on line magazine, Deliberately Considered, makes cogent points about the role of social media in recent social movements in general and in Occupy Wall Street in particular. Digital activism in recent years, she argues, is not only a means to the end of embodied social action. It also is an end in itself, a new type of politics that can make the previously hidden visible and can contribute to what she calls “the zeitgeist,” what I would prefer calling the prevailing common sense. She is pointing to the difference between the politics of small things just a few years ago, in the anti war movement and the Obama campaign, and now. The new media can now constitute a space for free action, a public, a point made by Judith Butler in a recent lecture.

This is especially telling because the occupation doesn’t have a simple meaning or political end. The act of posting, along with the act of protesting, makes the world look differently, and looking at the world with fresh eyes, beyond the sorts of ideological clichés found at Fox and its liberal rival MSNBC, is something that is most needed at this time. It is interesting how the way this happens is structured by social media actions, no longer a monopoly of the mass media.

Another way that OWS is noteworthy has to do with the location of the occupation, intensively linked as it is with democratic culture and its enemies. The location of the practices of OWS contributed significantly to its successful monstration, in Dayan’s terms.

The actions of a relatively small number of protestors in OWS quickly became visible not only to the people involved, but quite rapidly gained global attention. This is because of the very special nature of the starting point of occupation movement. Situated in lower Manhattan, the New York Stock Market and the World Trade Center have been symbols of advanced capitalism and American economic power in the global order and have been actual centers of the order. And, thus, Occupy Wall Street is the ground zero social movement. Monstration came almost automatically.

I first saw this as a “pedestrian observation,” based on a very particular experience walking around New York. In recent months, I walked around the area on the tenth anniversary of the attack with my friend, Steve Assael, who survived the 9/11 attack.

And in more recent weeks, I walked and observed the very same area when I went to take a look and to support the occupation at Zuccotti Park, passing by the site of the so-called Ground Zero Mosque as well.

It is because the occupation is at such an intense symbolic center, the media paid attention to OWS. A relatively small social demonstration captured global attention, exciting political imagination. In the U.S., apparently the Tea Party has met its match. Reports indicate that Occupy Wall Street is more popular than the Tea Party. Occupations of public spaces spread around the country, and, as the old slogan goes: the whole world was watching, and responding. Occupations went global, emanating from ground zero to London, to Seoul, back to Los Angeles and Washington D.C., and many points in between.

They watched in Gdansk. I had a peculiar experience in Gdansk in October, giving the annual Solidarność Lecture, reporting on a recent visit to Zuccotti Park, surprised by the interest in the Occupy Wall Street demonstration when I lectured there. I was also surprised and pleased to read that an important figure from that city, indeed the city’s most important historic figure, Lech Walesa, the leader of the Solidarity Trade Union, was planning on going to NY to support the occupation.

As reported in an unlikely source, The New York Daily News:

Walesa has warned of a ‘worldwide revolt against capitalism’ if the Wall St. protests are ignored.

They are protesting the ‘unfairness’ of an economy that enriches a few and ‘throws the people to the curb,’ he said in a recent interview.

‘That’s why union leaders and capitalists need to figure out what to do, because otherwise they will have to contend with a worldwide revolt against capitalism.’

In the end, Walesa did not go to support Occupy Wall Street. But what intrigued me about this experience of mine and this report is how media of all sorts spread the news and the insights of the new social movement. This is a mediated development perhaps stronger than Fox and the great trend it exemplifies.

The news spread through mainstream media and publications. But I think it is also important how social media spread the word. I don’t read the Daily News. It’s the American classic tabloid, similar to Murdoch’s NY Post, though not as bad. I got wind of the report through a friend’s (Elzbieta Matynia’s) Facebook page. The world is watching the world as mediated by our friends and our interpretation of things. As Davis observes:

This sharing, of course, is rarely (if ever) done in a neutral manner. Rather, Tweeters and Facebookers accompany shared news stories and web links with commentary that reveals a particular bent, or interpretation of the content. The content is therefore not just made visible, but impregnated with meaning in a web of social relations.

I was amused learning about Walesa’s visit through a Polish friend in New York when I was in the city where my exploration of the politics of small things first began, but there is a serious point being revealed here. The power of showing, the power of monstration, has been radically democratized in the new media age. My experience exemplifies something that is becoming quite common.

The Ground Zero occupation is leading to a global response. An articulate critique of the global order of things is being expressed in simple bodily presence and demonstrating electronic expressions, capturing the attention of the world that is watching and acting upon what it sees, with the potential of changing the terms of public deliberations. Those who are concerned about jobs, inequality, global warming and neo-liberalism have found their voices and are making visible their very real concerns. Indeed, I believe, in the U.S., the Tea Party has been directly engaged.

Both OWS and the Tea Party reveal the power of the politics of small things. In this sense, they are quite similar, but there is a major difference. OWS is grounded in the reality based community constituted through interactions and debates on social media, while much of the Tea Party concerns are based on Fox created little fictions, fictoids, as I have been reporting in my online magazine, Deliberately Considered over the last year.

As an unreconstructed enlightenment partisan, I think this suggests the long-term power of the newest development on the global stage.

Conclusions

My yes and no answer to the question of whether democracy is sick of its own media points to the perils and promise of the media in democratic life. On the one hand, some media formats, such as that of Fox News, threaten democracy (specifically in America, but it’s not an insignificant place), with an intensification of ideological politics, conflating news with propaganda, presenting facts as opinion and opinion as facts. On the other hand, new media expanded the power of what I call the politics of small things, presenting the capacity to resist the Fox trend. This is a new kind of media culture war. Political culture, the relationship between the power and culture, is at issue. It can be reinvented in a democratic direction or democracy can be undermined, another sort of reinvention. As I put it in my subtitle of my book, at issue is the culture of power and the power of culture.

I would like to study the dynamic outlined here more systematically, if he is interested, with my friend and colleague Daniel Dayan. To do so, it clearly would be necessary to examine exactly how Fox (and other similar media outlets) and social media monstrate. I think a precise analysis of this would reveal how mediated monstration works in supporting and undermining democratic life. It would be an examination of the forms of democratic and anti-democratic monstration. I hope he is intrigued.

Actually, I trust that Dayan is interested, primarily because we have been talking about doing such work together (specifically after the Sofia conference), but also because in recent years a fascinating new way of resisting the powers, and new way of reinventing political culture, has been developing, related to his ideas about monstration and my ideas about the politics of small things and reinventing political culture. I have analyzed here media politics of cable television and of emerging social movements. Dayan and I will need to get into the formation of those movements and how they compare and contrast with movements past. Social movements have been key to such resistance and reinvention in the past and they are again, but something new is happening with promise closely connected to the topic of media and publics. In some places, in the Arab world for example, it has become pretty clear that it is through new “new social movements” and the media forms that support them that there is a democratic prospect. Far from being sick of their media, as posed in our opening question, democracy is radically dependent upon (especially new) media. This is both as a support of new movements and as ends of these movements. Constituting democratic publics is what is new in new movements, I believe, and I hope Dayan and I will study this.

I will close with a brief turn to the promise of such study. Social movements have generally been understood in two ways. They have been seen as non-institutional means of a group of people to pursue their common interests and achieve their shared goals. The traditional archetype for this is the labor movement. Alternatively, social movements have been seen as not only interest focused, but as well, and perhaps more importantly, as non-institutional means for the formation of a group with common identities, concerned with supporting the identities and acting upon them. Civil rights movements, the women, lesbian, gay, bi-sexual and transgender movements, environmental movements and the like, are understood as being newer kinds of movements, “new social movements.” To tell the truth, I never quite understood why the new social movements were considered new. They, like labor movements, emerged in the nineteenth century. They, like the traditional movements, pursue interests. And the traditional movements, like the new ones, are about identity. Yet, I know this is not central. Rather the crucial point is to note that new and old movements are not only about the pursuit of interests. Movements are important ends in themselves for the people who create and are active in them. Movements, old and new, have sought to achieve specific goals, the right to organize and strike, a fair wage, decent working conditions, equal pay for equal work, voting rights, ending racism, sexism and environmental degradation and the like. And movements have been about asserting identity and its dignity, for workers, women, gays and lesbians and many others. Clearly, this is still the case. Social activists in Tahrir Square in Cairo and in Zuccotti Park in New York have specific ends, and the demonstrations in these places also create identities that are as significant as the ends the demonstrators are seeking.

But something else is important, quite apparent in these and other such places around the globe today, as I have been suggesting here.  The coming together based on some shared concerns with different identities and even different goals has been a common feature of the movements in our most recent past. The demonstrators occupy a space and the way they do so, the way they interact with each other is an important end of the movement. The form of interaction, as well as the identity and interest content, is central. The new media facilitate the form, an independent alternative public, but it is not completely defined by them.

Coptic Christians and Muslims protect each other with mutual respect in Egyptian demonstrations in Tahrir Square and throughout Egypt. They came together with the help of Facebook and the like, but what was crucial was what they did once they were together. Radical anarchists and conventional trade unionists hung out at Zuccotti Park last fall and in Union Square on May Day.

Their political ends may be different, radical critics of “the American Dream,” along with those who want to keep the Dream alive, but they have figured out ways to find common purpose and joint actions. The new “new social movements” are first about that commonality, the creation of independent public space, in New York and beyond, people with differences working together in the name of the 99%, creating an alternative free public space.

Communicating from this space to the dominant media and mainstream publics is a fundamental challenge, the challenge of monstration, now evident for the Tahrir democratic activists and OWS. The quality of their public character, its social media constitution that facilitated the formation of the movement, also presents problems for moving beyond the newly constituted public space. Leading spokespersons are not evident, a strength but also a weakness, nor are clear ends and demands forthcoming.

Thus the Dayan – Goldfarb project of new social and political movement: 1. Understand the new form the politics of small things is taking. 2. Appreciate how this new form is facilitated and frustrated by new media, 3. Consider how these developments are affecting the relationship between power and culture, reinventing the political culture of our times. And 4, analyze how 1, 2, and 3, all are about the constitution of free and expanding publics related to other publics, which depend on monstation: showing, revealing, appearing to others, through available media, as a primary challenge.

We have just experienced the season of gifts, a moment at which images of plummy consumption dance in our heads. And I had a gift in mind. A magazine, or perhaps, a certain website.

I am a serial reader, and, sometimes, a reader of serials. As the Deliberately Considered audience knows – because I have admitted in cyber-print – I have ogled Glenn Beck: less as harassment or flirtation, and more as an imagined discourse. I promiscuously read conservatives and progressives – and others in left, right, and libertarian venues. I live by The New Yorker, I conserve the Weekly Standard, I reason with Reason, and Mother Jones is Mom. However, I have long regretted that I cannot get a daily dosage of civic nutriment in a single journalistic bowl. I hold to a somewhat eccentric contention that there are smart liberals (neo- and old-timey, pink and pinker), conservatives (neo- and paleo-), progressives, reactionaries, socialists, libertarians, and more. Is my generosity so bizarre?

It has been argued that one of the fundamental problems in American political culture is that citizens tend to read narrowly. Those who consider themselves conservatives will not squander their lives reading liberal intellectuals, and the same is true of liberals, should they even admit to such a creature as a conservative intellectual. The divide between red and blue is as evident in the library as in the voting booth. This argument was made most compellingly by the ever diverting Cass Sunstein in his 2001 book, Republic.Com. Sunstein argued that we feel comfortable in segregated domains of knowledge in which:

“People restrict themselves to their own points of view – liberals watching and reading mostly or only liberals; moderates, moderates; conservatives, conservatives; neo-Nazi, neo-Nazis.”

People reside in gated communities of knowledge. This is what the sociologist David Maines, referring to epistemic divisions between blacks and whites, described as racialized pools of knowledge. Our pools, suitable for private skinny dipping, are political. But if we are truly interested in the play of ideas, this chasm is a dispiriting reality. Of what are we afraid?

On the empirical side, there has been debate as to the validity of Sunstein’s claim as applicable to blog sites, at least according to a research paper by Matthew Gentzkow and Jesse Shapiro at the Booth School of Business at the University of Chicago. They discover that many political junkies are omnivores, reading widely.

But, putting aside web freebies, on the organizational side the argument seems more compelling. Gentzkow and Shapiro’s argument, if confirmed, applies to blogs like Deliberately Considered, but perhaps less to paper-and-ink magazines, where one must place one’s money where one’s politics is.

And so each week I open my copy of The New Yorker with a weary expectation. Yes, as they explain, it is the best magazine in America. Yet, it is surely predictable. Recently, Hendrik Hertzberg weighed in on Newt Gingrich (back when he was the front runner, in a piece entitled “Alt-Newt”) and, surprise!, he doesn’t think much of the former speaker. The New Yorker has not been kind to Mitt Romney, Rick Perry, Michele Bachmann, or Herman Cain either. Also, The New Yorker won’t embrace Ron Paul, and someone is surely generating cold thoughts about Rick Santorum. Newt, we are told, is lousy writer, a hypocrite, and more of a megalomaniac than most potential presidents. Hertzberg’s essay is beautifully crafted, and it is not false as much as it is unanswered. There are those who write with glee and panache against the current incumbent, not only from the left, but from the right. But subscribers will never hear them. Then there is The New York Times whose stable of columnists range from (mostly) deep blue to light purple. Neither David Brooks nor Ross Douthat, thoughtful men both, are movement conservatives. William Kristol was chased off the reservation by patricians with pitchforks. Would one red-meat conservative violate the Gray Lady? Perhaps The Atlantic comes closest to this model, but the distance is still real.

What I wish for is a journal that is committed to excellence with ideological generosity. Perhaps there is not an audience for such a venture, despite the suggestion of Gentzkow and Shapiro, but I fantasize that Bill Buckley and Max Lerner could share a page. Charles Krauthammer and Frank Rich, too.

If one already knows that one knows, such a project is fundamentally misguided. Why read the wrong along with the right? However, for those of us who embrace independence, uncertainty and confusion are thrilling. A magazine that is neither red nor blue but multi-hued is a gift most devoutly to be wished for. It is not only that we wish to read clever writers, but we need to imagine a rainbow of clever ideas. Under my tree, I imagine a magazine that I cannot predict before opening the cover: a periodical of intellectual astonishment. A journal that is generously considered.

Let us pretend that we might be persuaded, and then read accordingly.

Last winter – back in the day – Glenn Beck was a roaring tiger. His claws were thought so bloody that when he attacked Frances Fox Piven, one of the leading activist scholars of social movements, a string of professional organizations rose to the lady’s defense, including the American Sociological Association and the Society for the Study of Social Problems. After the shooting of Representative Gabrielle Giffords, many progressives concluded that Professor Piven was next in line for assassination from the rightists roiled and boiled by Beck.

Today we frame Glenn Beck’s symmetry as less fearful. Those who worried that Professor Piven was walking on a knife’s edge might be surprised that her latest book, published in August, is entitled Who’s Afraid of Frances Fox Piven: The Essential Writings of the Professor Glenn Beck Loves to Hate. Glenn Beck has become Professor Piven’s marketing tool. Without Glenn Beck’s opposition, Piven’s writings might seem less essential. (As a fellow former president of the Society for the Study of Social Problems, I am pleased that her deservedly influential writings have become essential. I am attempting to find someone of equal stature to hate me. The placid readers of this flying seminar know that I try my best.)

However, my point is not to critique the pas de deux of Beck and Piven. Rather it is to recall that in my earlier musing on Glenn Beck, I confessed to having become addicted to his rants, his startling readings of American intellectual history. However, beginning early in 2011, sparked by the demonstrations of the Arab Spring, first in Tunisia, then in Tahir Square, spreading to Tripoli and Syria, Beck began warning that these demonstrations were a clarion call to global rebellion. He promised viewers that an uprising was coming to a park near you, reporting every small and inconsequential gathering throughout Europe throughout the spring.

Listening to his fervid predictions, I came to feel that this represented a tea-laced fantasy. Beck had fallen off the dark edge. And perhaps Roger Ailes agreed with me. Beck was escorted out of the Fox studies and into his own Internet redoubt (“the fusion of entertainment and enlightenment”). As he was no longer close by my remote, my addiction ebbed.

Yet, examining the world of November, I can see the outlines of Beck’s vision from January. He informed us – warned us actually – that we would see an uprising on the streets of America. This uprising would not be an occasional frat party, but a hard and determined thing. Beck instructed us that the movement would be global – London, Rome, Athens, Bahrain, Oakland, Atlanta, and Zuccotti Park. What could Glenn Beck see that I could not? What could Glenn Beck see that progressives throughout America missed last spring? Was he a broken clock right twice a decade?

One need not agree that this exuberance of protest is as frightening or destructive as Beck would have us believe. Liberals, libertarians, and perhaps even some brave conservatives might agree with Thomas Jefferson, speaking of Shays’ Rebellion in 1787 that “the tree of liberty needs to be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure.” The Arab Spring reminds us of this same reality, and slowly, imperceptibly those images proved to be a model for actions in Europe and America. When the Occupy Wall Street movement began in September, New Yorkers were primed, and soon others were. But along with the Arab Spring, the Tea Party movement also provided a model. Progressives felt a gathering envy, and OWS was the result. The problem, as I see it, is that while there was a legitimate drive to gather to protest grievances, practical solutions remained distant for the well-intentioned mandarins of the movement.

What Glenn Beck recognized, first through Tea Party Summer, then Arab Spring, then Manhattan Autumn, was that moments of profound discontent, helplessness, and resentment at distant control produce an insistent demand for communal action, a call from agitators left and right. Glenn Beck’s own 8/28/10 Washington gathering to “Restore Honor,” ostensibly an opportunity for faith and commitment, mimicking that of the Reverend King, arose from the same forces.

Beck recognized an emergent power in these hard times: groups sharing common concerns,  gathering, angry, frustrated, and perhaps hopeful. These groups view a cloudy future for which they lack answers, but know that their questions cannot be ignored.

I spent the early evening of November 8^th wandering around the Occupy Philadelphia (OP) encampment. I was trying to clear my head before a scheduled talk by well-known social movement scholar (and one of Glenn Beck’s “most wanted”), Frances Fox Piven.

Ten minutes before the talk was scheduled begin, I moved to the stage area and found a surprisingly large group of people had begun to gather. I was immediately struck by how out of place they looked based on my experience. They lacked the all-weather, busy or exhausted appearance that characterizes a lot of people I encounter at OP. But they also didn’t seem curious or confused. Their gaze took in the camp with understanding. They were nearly all white, young, and dressed similarly, most likely, college students.

I found a spot off to the side of the crowd as Piven was introduced and began to speak. Moments later, I was approached by a black couple, a woman and man, both in their late teens or early twenties, standing arm-in-arm, carrying shopping bags, with glowing faces. They appeared to be on a date and were clearly happy to be together, even in love.

Gesturing toward the stage, the young woman asked me, “What’s all this?” I began to reply that she, Piven, is an academic, but I was interrupted. “No,” the woman corrected me, “all this,” sweeping her arm across the entire encampment. I told her it was Philly’s answer to Occupy Wall Street, “You know, in New York.” She stared back at me, shaking her head slightly. The young man quickly said, “Oh, yeah, I think I heard about that, but I didn’t realize it was here too. Well, this is good because there are problems. I just didn’t know about it cause I didn’t see it on the news or anything.” I asked where they lived. “North Philly, like 21^st and Cecil B. Moore.” This is less that 2 miles from where they stood now. Indeed, they live only blocks from Temple University, where Piven had spoken earlier in the day.

That evening, I encountered a lot of young white college students who seemed to be supportive of and conversant in the occupation, and a young black couple who were very supportive and interested, but unaware of its existence in Philadelphia. Why is that?

In my experience thus far, the demographics, geography and even the basic character of the daily interactions that occur in OP’s universe are deeply reflective of the city itself, of its history, geography, problems, tensions, and dynamics. I raise this point not to suggest that Philadelphia, and its occupation, are particularly unique in this regard. Rather, I feel that the Occupy movement as a whole, particularly now, faces the problem of connecting global and national level rhetoric with the specific, daily experiences of the 99%, in their diverse localities.

Dan Sherwood addressed this in his post a few days ago., making a crucial point about the Occupation movement:

“The OWS movement is not about a specific policy agenda or in defense of a particular social group. The OWS movement is a desperate amplification of a silenced and ignored expression of broad based and deep social suffering. The metastasizing ills and injustices of social inequality can be ignored no longer. Although born of desperation, OWS has peacefully organized an open structured movement that threatens to create a public space of discussion in perpetuity. It is precisely the perpetuation of public discussion that has been so threatening to elites.”

I couldn’t agree more. That “amplification” is exactly what the Occupation Movement is ultimately about, or anyway, what it has come to be about. But this is also what I feel OWS represents. What does that couple-in-love, heading home to one of many historically impoverished and underserved neighborhoods in Philadelphia, feel that OWS (or OP) represents?

The issue of voicelessness highlighted by OWS is a very real problem. However, this critique must also be a reflexive one. Jurgen Habermas, the world famous social philosopher and student of the public sphere, was famously criticized for his framing of the business-minded social interactions of white, moneyed men as “public,” without recognitizing the many de facto criteria for participation in this public. OWS has to address this problem. We need to seriously examine what it is “amplifying.” OWS needs to work to make sure that its microphone is really reaching into the most disenfranchised and abused communities of the country. And this public must remain vigilant in insuring it is truly open, without becoming lost in its own rhetoric of universality. We must push our outreach efforts harder to ensure that more people not only know about OWS publics around the country, but that they feel welcome and capable of participating.

Indeed, in my Philadelphia experiences, the occupation’s effort at promoting individuals’ right to democratic expression appear to be butting up against individuals’ ability to express themselves in this sphere. This is not for lack of intellect or will. Rather, the most sinister effect of political disenfranchisement and the loss of participation in a democratic public is the “deskilling” that accompanies it.

Over successive generations, Americans have simply forgotten how to talk to one another about these issues, how to connect their lives with the machinations of global and national political and economic systems. Declining voting rates in federal elections, even steeper declines in in local and state-level political participation, the simplified and pandering rhetoric of national political debates, and the sheer animosity that currently infects the American political debate, all speak to this trend of the increasing absence of ordinary Americans in American politics.

Indeed, while speaking with that young couple and explaining some of the issues OP is organizing around, the pair nodded, asked detailed questions and appeared to agree with most points raised. However, as that evening’s general assembly got underway just a few feet away, and I began to explain how it worked, the couple expressed confusion about the link between the grievances behind the occupation and the democratic decision-making process used across the OWS movement. The young woman said to me, “It’s nice to get to tell your story about how some bank screwed you over or vote about moving to a new camp, but how’s me doing that gonna help, like, my block? You might wanna close a bank, but I want my block fixed and the city won’t pay for it and the government in Washington is just gonna listen to whoever’s the loudest.”

This point was further highlighted in a conversation I recently had with a blind Hispanic man who has been trying to promote ideas for reorganizing OP around issue areas (e.g. prisoner rights, environmentalism), rather than working groups which tend to form around skill sets (e.g. facilitation, messaging, coordination, outreach). His point was that “people who come to OP looking to get involved, but aren’t familiar with this form of political organizing, are thrown into a confusing system that speaks a language they don’t understand,” leaving potential supporters feeling excluded and disconnected, even resentful.

In this context, David Brooks’ now oft quoted observation that OWS has “changed the conversation,” begs the question: whose conversation? Returning to Dan Sherwood’s comments, I have to ask: is the form of public discussion that is currently surrounding the OWS movement really all that threatening to elites?

The OWS movement has accomplished a lot, and I have nothing but hope for the future. But, OWS must continue to root out the power of elites in society, in all its hiding places. While this movement has done a great deal to counter the imposed voicelessness that left nearly all Americans out of “the conversation” before September 17th, OWS must move beyond focusing on the conversation. Indeed, the true power of elites lurks within the conversation itself, in its language, medium, and framing as universal and relevant to the real lives of individuals. While it was amazing to see how someone like Tim Pool was able to shine a digital light through the darkness of media blackouts and police violence, it is important to recognize that this light is digital, and it cannot be seen by everyone.

At this important moment, following a day of unprecedented action across the country, the OWS movement must remain focused on raising political consciousness. We must do more than simply change the conversation. We must move to create conversations where they haven’t existed in a long time and in forms that have never been seen before.

In our dour moment in which citizens of all stripes are taking to the streets, the plazas, and the parks, we see accusing placards, but no persuasive manifestos. As sociologist William Gamson has pointed out, the first step is to demonstrate an “injustice frame” as a precursor to action. Point taken, but it is a start.

Despite their manifold and manifest differences, the polyester Tea Party and the scruffy Occupy Wall Street protests have at least this in common: palpable anger and resentment. We feel at the mercy of distant puppet masters, and elites in pinstripes and in gowns have much to answer for.

Neither the Partiers nor the Occupiers are wrong to recognize the sway of elites, even if they are not sufficiently aware of those powers that stand behind their own movements: David Koch, the Alliance for Global Justice, and FreedomWorks. Anti-elites are the playthings of the powerful.

Yet, despite their backers, both the Partiers and the Occupiers are solidly 99%’ers. Both radicals of the left and upstarts of the right think that there is not so much difference between the Bush Administration and the Obama Administration. The oil establishment and the financial services establishment could share breakfast of caviar and champagne, discussing whether their interests are better served by this president or the last one. Peasants with pitchforks are on no guest lists, whether they dress in denim or dacron. Despite partisan bickering, it is easy to feel that on the basic issues of security and capital the gap between competing establishments is small. I am struck by how little fundamental restructuring, hope and change has brought. The same powers will control health care, energy development, and financial services.

The fatal illusion of the Tea Party Movement is that America could have a smaller government, without programs cut, and more freedom, by allowing those with control to have less oversight. The Tea Partiers treasure the idea of a stripped down government, but what they call for is a government that provides largess without controlling that largess. A sincere Tea Party would be talking about slashing safety nets and insuring that small businesses can compete against corporations that, in effect, operate as governments. The Tea Party supports in fact a conservative movement whose desires are sure to permit few of its dreamy members to enter that one-percent. (At least the collegiate corner of Occupy Wall Street movement has a few budding oligarchs in their midst). The grievances are real, but blurred, and the solution of freezing government spending at past levels is dishonest in its unwillingness to make tough choices about programs.

The Occupy Wall Street collective also has its illusions. Are they socialists, naïfs, the distraught, or simply leeches? Whichever it is, they too smell rotten fish. In order to establish a movement – a congregation of collegiate radicals, union members, and impoverished minorities – these occupiers of tiny bits of public space drew a cartoonish enemy: the super wealthy fat cat, erasing the class fractions of Barbra Streisand, David Koch, Glenn Beck, Oprah, Bill Gates, and Warren Buffet. And they are right in that each, despite varied political positions, demands social stability, governed by those wise oligarchs that they prefer.

But something essential is missing. It is what George H. W. Bush ineptly, if memorably, called the “vision thing.” I have observed a South Carolina Tea Party rally and a Washington OWS encampment, and in both cases, I was struck by an absence of a call to greatness. Consequential leaders – Kennedy, Reagan, King, Bush in the days after 9/11, and campaigner Obama – have persuaded us that we are a city on a hill, imbued with destiny. Effective movements begin in grievance, but end in achievement. Ultimately, neither group has a vision of America transformed, bathed in golden light. Who speaks for a revived America in which we reconsider our institutions? It is easy to ask for more and cheaper student loans, a safety net for home buyers, banks that can never fail, and Medicare for everyone, all on the cheap. But will this produce a robust nation? Anger is a tonic whose bitter tang is but a jolt. To last, an infusion of communal faith is what matters. The Partiers and the Occupiers taste a jangly, acrid past; what they need is to brew a chamomile future.

This has been another eventful week, and for another week I am a bit late in posting the review.  Thinking about the “news,” thinking about what is new in our world, I have been mesmerized by the remarkable drama in Egypt, the conclusion of which is far from certain.  At DC, we have been trying to make sense of this, with side glances at related problems.  I think in fact that the standard ways of understanding these revolutionary times require such glances, because conventional ways of thinking mislead.  I am going to address this with a couple of short posts, the first today, the second tomorrow, thinking about the revolutionary moment by reviewing the posts of my colleagues.  I will start by reflecting on an apparent comedy and move toward an examination of potential tragedy.

Some of the conventional responses to the events in Egypt would be funny, if they weren’t so serious.  The prime example is that of Glenn Beck: “Islam wants a caliphate. Communists want a Communist, new world order. They’ll work together, and they’ll destabilize, because they both want chaos, period.”  That this is what he gets out of the complex events in Egypt reveals the power of ideological thinking.

Beck, ever on the lookout for conspiracies and frightening analogies, normally distills a powerful brew. But it seems a bit weak when it comes to a major foreign affair, indeed quite foreign for him and his audience.  I suspect that even the confirmed Fox News viewer is put off by Beck’s week long attempt to demonize the obviously well meaning Egyptian activists, who have appeared on our television, computer and mobile screens.

In fact, I wonder what Gary Alan Fine thinks.  In his appreciation of Beck, he makes two strong observations, leading to a provocative conclusion: Beck is a talented communicator, expressing popular skepticism about elites who purport to know what is best for the people, better than the people.  And he pays intellectuals the complement of taking them seriously.  Therefore: “Glenn Beck is an endowed professor for the aggrieved, presenting cracked knowledge.”

Fine concludes that Beck and the intellectual opponents he demonizes, the progressive intellectuals, such as Frances Fox Piven, actually have much in common.  They question the easy assumptions of what they see as a self serving liberalism.  But I would add, as they do so, they may not only reveal the limits of liberalism, but also undermine liberalism in the process, sometimes intentionally.  And, back to Egypt, it is liberal freedom that is a (if not “the”) major commitment of protesters.

I think that Fine misses the dangers of Beck’s anti-liberalism.  Anti-liberalism of the left in the U.S. is primarily a comedy; the rhetoric is serious but the appeal is limited.  The right’s anti-liberalism is a much more serious threat, because it has a much larger and more powerful constituency.  Beck, Rush Limbaugh and the whole Orwellian “fair and balanced” institution hold the attention of a significant part of the American public.  If there is ever to be “a transition from democracy” in the United States, as potentially occurring in Hungary today, depicted by Andras Bozoki in his DC post , it will come from Beck’s quarter of the political landscape, it seems to me.  Hungary and Egypt show that democratic transitions are always potentially with us and that they don’t only go in one direction.

I am addicted to Glenn Beck. Don’t misunderstand, I do not love Glenn Beck, nor do I sing in his chorus of the righteous. But neither am I a Beck-hater, feeling that he is – as he speaks of mega-billionaire George Soros – a “spooky dude.” Further, I am no Beckaholic (Mr. Beck, a recovering alcoholic, might appreciate this). If I miss a night, don’t look for me on a ledge. If I watch too much, don’t search for me in the gutter. However, I prefer that my day ends with a shot of Beck and bourbon. (In California, my current home base, Beck’s show airs at 11:00 p.m.).

Academics often find themselves in deep shade, hidden from bright public debate. Despite our striving for impact, few pay us mind. We dream of celebrity, but on our own terms, and we worry that the unwashed masses will not understand (lecturing to unwashed students makes this concern more plausible). When academics reach the spotlight, it has sometimes been for plagiarism (Doris Kearns Goodwin), losing control (Henry Louis Gates), or political misdemeanors that suggest that a Ph.D. is no substitute for a heart (Newt Gingrich). Perhaps we should lust for dim obscurity. The attentions of Mr. Beck suggest a certain benefit of anonymity over infamy. Beck pays the academy the uncertain honor of believing that we count for something. He believes our writings can change the world, much as Jesse Helms insisted that contemporary art really, truly mattered enough to be censored. Beck scopes the intellectual barricades to find those he presents as cultural subversives, reporting to his million-man audience about the moral felonies of Edward Bernays, Stuart Chase, Walter Lippmann, and, the most dangerous man in America, Cass Sunstein, professor at Harvard Law School and Administrator of the White House Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs. Pre-Beck, such a list would seem eccentric. Post-Beck, the list seems alternatively mad, malevolent, and revelatory. Despite his biting attacks, Beck is insistent on proclaiming the mantra of non-violence. Gandhi is a hero. But on Beck’s website some responses are not so gentle. To be sure, under the cloak of anonymity these angry posts may be from organized detractors who desire to discredit or penned by battlers who believe that Beck is insufficiently hard-edged.

The distinguished former president of the American Sociological Association Frances Fox Piven ranks in Beck’s list of the nine most dangerous people (the only woman) for her embrace of the disinfecting power of disruption, whether in Greece or Greensboro. (She and I have both served as presidents of the activist Society for the Study of Social Problems). Beck speaks of Professor Piven as an enemy of the Constitution, but this curious charge is rather like a Pentacostal finding that the Amish and the Methodists are enemies of the Bible. Whose Bible is it? Whose Constitution? The title of Piven’s last book, Challenging Authority, could reasonably be the title of Mr. Beck’s next. He is, after all, the author of a book “Inspired by Thomas Paine.” For their critics each is a royal Paine.

Glenn Beck is an endowed professor for the aggrieved, presenting cracked knowledge. Many of his shows are lectures delivered with more brio, comic patter, and multi-media panache than I could ever muster. He is quite the performer, often so much so that I easily fall into the rhythm of his cadence, too entranced to think hard about each claim.

Beck mines history with gusto, as if the past mattered for the present. In this, he is the student of which every historian dreams, at least until his parsing of reputations is considered. Most Americans (those that do not tune in to Beck) might be puzzled that Stuart Chase, the progressive economist, or Edward Benays, the psychologist of persuasion, still matter, but Beck emphasizes the archeology of ideas. Ideas do not die; they become the substructure of action. To his credit Beck takes seriously what many find dusty and archaic. Even when he gets his interpretations wrong or misleads (yes, he does), the genealogy of the American dream and its current corrosion is made dramatic. Beck reserves a special place in hell for the progressive Woodrow Wilson, no angel for anyone, left, right, or center, but not the one-dimensional controller that Beck despises.

Beck’s hatred for Marxists has recently waned – not that he likes them, evident in occasional nostalgic attacks on former Green Czar Van Jones or recent critiques in slightly paler pink of our current president. Rather in his recent lectures his bullet points are aimed at progressives. For Beck, a progressive is not just a slippery label for a liberal. What revolts Beck – and he is in revolt – is the idea of elites, hiding their power beneath the blanket of service. Beck rejects a world of expertise: an unelected high and mighty. At various moments, this idea would have placed him in lockstep with many on the left who also worry about puppetmasters. Perhaps the villains wear different masks, but the New World Order – and the George Soros’s and Dick Cheney’s who build it – is not only a gimcrack notion of one extreme.

Beck has recently begun to lecture about the ranchers and the cows. Viewers are the cows in his anti-Western. The elites wish to fence cows in and insure that any cow that wishes to break free is grilled for dinner at Davos. These ranchers are the smartest kids in the room. Can there be any wonder that Cass Sunstein’s Nudge is a particular bête noir? Sunstein wishes to control the cows, not by force, but without their even knowing of the control. In this Beck is almost a French intellectual, a Foucaultian of the heartland.

Beck has an agenda for how we are to live. He plumbs for Hope. Faith. Charity. But what are the problematic political subtexts of these bracing words? As a quasi-Libertarian Beck claims that we are capable of competent and conscious choice. We are each Shrugging Atlases. Edward Bernays with his adman’s slights-of-hand and the bleak and chill wisdom of Freud and progressives must be muscularly opposed. Collective projects and their benefits can vanish in a puff of individualism.

For Beck, progressives offend by believing that they can remake the world. Just like – ta-dah – the Nazis. In the American rhetoric of grievance everything goes back to Adolf with an occasional nod to Stalin. Put in Beckspeak, “Nazi tactics were progressive tactics first.” We must struggle against totalitarianism. A fair reading of Frances Fox Piven suggests that she and Beck might agree in their desires to devolve power to the local. Both speak for the dispossessed and both confront and discomfort a system that is fundamentally broken and run by those few who continue to benefit against popular desire.

Beck believes that today government is run by radical elites; others still see conservative elites. The question is where does power lie? How can power be retrieved by the governed? These are, of course the right questions. With his colorful attempts to retrieve the thinkers who made us as we are, Beck performs a service. He is worth considering. Still, listening to Glenn Beck at midnight does not always result in restful sleep. Sometimes those rough patches of slumber are because of what he gets right and sometimes they are because of what he gets wrong. But in either case, these troubles require an awakening.

I was enchanted by the idea of the “Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear.”  I have enjoyed Stewart’s and Colbert’s shows.  Especially during the worst years of the Iraq war, I watched them to maintain my own sanity.  In their rally, they accurately highlighted the strength of their satire, looking for sanity in insane times, using the form of the day, the great Washington Rally organized by cable television.  I have principled problems with this new form of “Media Events,” but such is the world we now live in.   Stewart and Colbert claimed that theirs wasn’t a response to the Glenn Beck organized event, but it clearly was.  There is irony in their satire, which challenges political clarity but for good cultural reasons.

I was pleased by the turn out.  It seems that more people attended the Stewart Colbert satirical event, than attended Beck’s earnest rally to restore honor.  I appreciated that “we” saw ourselves as outnumbering “them,” and it felt good.  But was there any more to it than that?

There indeed was concern in this regard.  The ambiguity of the event’s meaning led to significant criticism after the fact, most vividly expressed in Bill Maher’s response.

The left and the right are not equally insane, the critics point out.  The problem is not in the media portrayal of our politics, something that Colbert and especially Stewart seem to focus on, but the politics itself.  The event energized a part of the public, but didn’t lead to specific political action.  This, of course, just before the midterm elections which promised to lead to broad Democratic losses and Tea Party gains, and which proved to be the case.  The only person to even allude to the elections was Tony Bennett in his closing performance, calling out to people “Vote!” after singing “America the Beautiful.”  It was a political event about nothing according to Maher, echoes of Seinfeld here.

Stewart in his nightly show defended himself in amusing ways last night.  His main point: the rally was about something, just not about what his critics wanted.  He is mostly concerned not with the partisan disagreements, but that we have lost our ability to disagree civilly and constructively.  His critics in turn wonder whether it is possible to constructively disagree when one side of the disagreement is acting in a fundamentally dishonest way.   Assertions about death panels, the illegitimacy of the Obama Presidency because of his non – citizenship, wild claims about the dangers  of Sharia law in Oklahoma,  and the crime wave and voting fraud being perpetuated by illegal aliens, all coming from Republicans in engaging important debates of the day, do not have Democratic equivalents.  How then can Stewart claim to be non-partisan?   But we have to watch their tongues as they go into their cheeks.

The correlation between fact and party

This debate on the left, and the ambiguity of the event, I think, underscores a fundamental problem in our political culture.   There is too clear a correlation between commitments to facts and party identification.  One party is associated with facts, while the other seems to be more committed to its own fictions.  Indeed, more disturbing than the disagreements about how to address the problems of climate change is that the scientific finding of global warming has somehow become a partisan issue.   More unsettling than the disagreements about the details of TARP is the fact that there are those who seem to deny that there really were dangers of the collapse of the financial system and a global depression on the order of the Great Depression of the 1930s, and that government action was imperative.  And though I have to accept that some are not as thrilled as I am by the fact that America has matured to the point that it has elected an extremely intelligent African American President, bi-racial, with Muslims in his family tree, it is deeply unsettling that there are those who live with the myths that he is somehow not really American, and that elected representatives of the Republican Party actually perpetrate these myths or do little to criticize them.  One party has become the party of facts, the other of fictions.  Truth shouldn’t be a partisan issue but it has become one, in many different instances.

Stewart and Colbert and their critics disagree about how to voice objection to this situation, and about their perceived roles.  But they are responding to the same political cultural dilemma.  How to fight against the fictions that Republican partisans are using to mobilize their constituencies so effectively?  And the “fictoids” keep coming , the latest from Fox News – President Obama’s Asian trip is costing $200 million dollars a day, $2 billion for the whole trip, with 3,000 in his entourage, and 34 war ships providing protection, as Stewart was quick to ridicule, following his defense against his liberal critics in his program last night.

A modest suggestion

The Rally was of those who oppose such politics and such media, which lightly substitute such fictions for facts.  The participants and their supporters, and their liberal critics, became visible in large numbers.  And as I tried to argue in my last post, they, we, are going to have to organize ourselves to act not only against policies we disagree with, but also against the lies.  As the Republicans obstruct responsible governance, I hope to see an alternative cast against the Tea Party mobilization.  A key to this will be a commitment to truth, something to which the Rally, its participants and organizers contributed.   And I have a suggestion for how we might start contributing to this cause at Deliberately Considered, by collecting and analyzing fictoids.  The floor, or at least the blog, is open for contributions.

Neil Postman was a famous media critic.  He thought that the problem with television was not its content but its formal qualities as a medium. It presented a clear and present danger.  Because of it, we were Amusing Ourselves to Death.  In thinking about the role of television in contemporary politics, specifically as it is facilitating new kinds of major media events, I am struck by the fact that television’s effects may be quite the opposite, when it amuses us, it gives life.  When it is deadly serious, it is just that, deadly.  I am having these dark thoughts thinking about Glenn Beck, John Stewart and Steven Colbert, and their respective demonstrations on American sacred ground, the Washington Mall, between the Washington and Lincoln Memorials.

Glenn Beck

Glenn Beck’s Restoring Honor Rally, held on the Washington mall, with speakers on the steps on the Lincoln Memorial, was seen as a serious event, an abomination for those who were pained by the hijacking of the legacy of one of the great mass demonstrations in American history held on the same place, on the same day of the year, forty seven years ago, the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, highlighted by “The I Have a Dream” speech by Martin Luther King Jr.  But viewed from the right, even from a skeptical conservative observer such as Ross Douthat of The New York Times, it was an encouraging development, affirming important cultural values, showing that the right was “free of rancor, racism or populist resentment, the atmosphere at the rally resembled that of a church picnic or a high school football game.” (link)  Of course, on Fox the enthusiasm, the celebration, was less restrained.

Stewart and Colbert

On the other hand, the planned Rally to Restore Sanity, promoted by John Stewart, and the “counter demonstration,” the March to Keep Fear Alive, promoted by Stephen Colbert, are clearly meant to be funny, and there is truth in packaging, since both of the principals work for the cable network, Comedy Central.  But it is being taken seriously. Arianna Huffington, of the famous Post, let the world know that her organization would provide free bus transportation from New York to the Rally, appropriately on Stewart’s show. (link)

And President Obama even lent his support (o.k., perhaps with his tongue strategically planted in his cheek).  And the demonstration is likely to draw tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands, because of a widespread sense that our politics has become insane, and there is a need to protest this.

Deliberate Consideration

These two media events show how far we have come.  The boundary between entertainment and politics has never been more tenuous.  But I admit.  I find one of these media events encouraging for the prospects of American democracy and the other extremely dangerous, and I don’t think it is just a matter of my political commitments.

Beck has his power because he is outrageous. He receives public attention by being a provocateur, denouncing the President because he just doesn’t like white people, criticizing healthcare reform as a form of reparations, leading people to believe with absolute certainty that bizarre readings of the American constitution and American history are the truth, and getting them to cling to the constitution as the Red Guards of the Chinese Cultural Revolution clung to Mao’s Little Red Book.  The provocative is linked with the dogmatic on the Orwellian network that calls it tendentious news productions “fair and balanced,” and mass demonstrations are mobilized.  Sometimes Beck mutes his message, as he did at the Honor Rally, sometimes he is particularly combative, but both of his faces are backed by the appearance of certainty.

Colbert and Stewart on the other hand use humor to question dogma.  Their political sympathies are clear, but this doesn’t prevent them from making fun of politicians whom they admire.   Stewart is outrageously funny by being outrageously moderate:

“We’re looking for the people who think shouting is annoying, counterproductive, and terrible for your throat; who feel that the loudest voices shouldn’t be the only ones that get heard; and who believe that the only time it’s appropriate to draw a Hitler mustache on someone is when that person is actually Hitler. Or Charlie Chaplin in certain roles.” (link)

The form is more important than the content, and it is precise.

Postman thought that network television necessarily needed to amuse its audience to keep its attention.  He thought that “public discourse in the age of show business” (the subtitle of his book) would necessarily be un-serious and diminished as a result.  I was never convinced, but I am sure that we are seeing something else, a contest, now, in which the cable news programs that preach to the converted are polarizing and atomizing our politics using a form which is dogmatic and deadly serious.  In this situation, the forms of comedy, amusement and satire are life-giving antidotes, as Stewart and Colbert reveal.