Mind the Gap
Reconciling a Cultural Chasm
I am conservative and I voted for Mrs. Clinton (despite a host of personal and political misgivings). I voted for her because I believe in the Constitution and its tenets of equality spanning race, class, ethnicity, gender, and creed. I feared that her opponent did not share my respect for those foundational values that underpin the integrity of the United States of America. My ballot was cast for these intrinsic values at the polls for someone I would not invite to my house for dinner. My decision was made from a position of comfort based upon my intellectual priorities; mine is not America’s baseline. Mr. Trump tapped into a well of discontent with sources arrayed in scope from Political Correctness to the Off-shoring of Manufacturing. People nursing their wounds and espousing these beliefs are neither evil nor moronic and persistent dismissal of their concerns only pushed rhetoric to ever more radical extremes. I had become dismissive, lost the ability to empathize, and become detached from the very people who shaped me. I, too, want to be disgusted with America for electing Mr. Trump, but the greater failing is in our inability to relate to one another.
I remember sitting at a dingy greasy spoon chain restaurant as a high school senior with a few friends probably well past curfew. In the way that groups of teenage boys are wont to do, we were occasionally boisterous and would revert to being polite when we caught ourselves (or at least noticed the looks we were getting from fellow diners). Unable to sit still, I picked up a flyer on the table announcing employment opportunities. Naturally, I inquired to the waitress upon her return regarding hours, earnings, and atmospheric prospects of gainful employment in her establishment. One of my best friends immediately interjected, “Dude, why in the world would you want to work at a Waffle House?” Realizing the waitress was still standing there blank-faced, we were instantly mortified. He started backpedaling faster than one might imagine possible. Though never discussed aloud, somehow we had internalized that there was an “us” and a “them” in the world of economic opportunity. I’m certain that at the time we probably chalked up such distinctions to our hard work ethic, diligence in our studies, or some other easily cited but overly simplified phrase of convenience. The truth is: we were white, affluent, straight, and male from intact homes. All we had to do was not screw up.
White privilege is a loaded term with confounding personal and societal implications. It is also something that I did not consider deeply until the election cycle. There is undeniably a subset of the population with the deck stacked in its favor, but the white working class (WWC) has a long history of leading a hard scrabble life. The pundits at either ends of the political spectrum described Mr. Trump’s WWC base in diametrically opposed terms. The Left clamored that the white males of the United States of America were regressively clinging to Mr. Trump’s life raft to keep them elevated above a rising tide of minorities and women. The Right characterized these men as a disenfranchised and forgotten American demographic, excluded from social programs and special interest lobbying groups to remain destitute as policy makers traded away their livelihoods to score points in other arenas. In typical fashion, buried in the hyperbole were seeds of truth that reflect both the good and bad of a significant and real portion of the population. There was a tendency by the Right to exaggerate their import and the Left to dismiss it entirely; a surefire recipe for resentment and populist uprising.
My University background is in Economics and I, as a true believer of the free market, am tremendously in favor of globalization in an unadulterated form as an ideal. In order for a free market to function, there cannot be the constraints on factors of production that we face in a real global economy (unstable governments, curbs on immigration, high tariffs, stiff regulations, etc). Therefore, concessions from an unbridled market must be in place to balance out those unfortunate realities. The Internet’s ever-increasing acceleration of globalization coupled with massive immigration shifts in a fragile geopolitical landscape result in gnawing uncertainty. Uncertainty in the face of change risks reprisal with the most base human behaviors and emotions. Politically, this takes the form of ramped up support for radical parties by groups dissatisfied with the status quo. Within Western Europe, the populist tide surged forth with the election of Alexis Tsipras in 2015 in Greece, widespread gains made by far-right parties in Austria/Germany/Hungary and more this spring, and, of course, the misguided and self-harming Brexit referendum in June that rocked the UK.
I wanted to think that an emotional anti-establishment momentum could not sweep the US. The seductive exaltation of the ambiguous plight of the common man rarely regards the particulars of policy that led to the status quo. However, having witnessed the debacle that was Brexit firsthand, I knew with a foreboding certainty that Mr. Trump was not simply a novelty candidate buoyed by a small yet vocal slice of the politically disenchanted. I knew this, just as I had a sinking feeling that the UK would vote to “Leave,” but I didn’t understand it. As an outsider, I grew comfortable looking down on the closed-minded nationalists duped by the propaganda machine of the Leave campaign. The European Single Market has maintained peace on the Continent and kept the post-Imperial UK economically relevant. There was no question that the economy and currency would suffer, but concerns over immigration won the day. People’s narrow preconceptions of what it means to be British outweighed the quantifiable benefits of EU membership at the polls; rationality did not play a role.
The figurehead for the movement in the US has been caught in unfiltered moments making racist, sexist, xenophobic, and bigoted statements across the gamut of life’s many questions. The average American, I sincerely believe, strives to do what is morally right and defensible. Trump’s popular support in light of his record and my confidence in fellow citizens did not reconcile in my head. Eventually I realized that, despite protestations from the Left, it is not the content of Trump’s statements, but rather the apparent authenticity of them that rang true to voters. Decision makers at the highest levels are comfortable bantering about technocratic terms in rational tones regarding intricate policies. This environment created an echo chamber among the “establishment” that failed to resonate with the average voter. A representative Constitutional Republic only functions effectively when the people feel their interests are actually being represented. Mr. Trump never claimed to be of the working class, but he spoke to them directly in simple, repetitive terms that were easy to understand.
Mr. Trump was not speaking to me, I was not part of his target audience but I easily could have been. I come from a textile town that lost thousands of manufacturing jobs through free trade agreements such as NAFTA and the CBI. I have worked on farms and ranches, performed landscaping, and labored washing dishes for the minimum wage. I grew up in a household that emphasized that hard work and studiousness paid off. I did my part and the promise held true. Where is the divergence between my interpretation of the American dream (ie upward mobility through sweat and brains) and the reality of millions of my countrymen who saw themselves as casualties of systemic failure? What does it say about me that I thrived in a system others report as oppressive and callous despite their earnest effort? I’m not that exceptional.
I shared my dismay with a friend in a position similar to myself and he recommended reading a book, Hillbilly Elegy: A Family and Culture in Crisis, by J.D. Vance. A memoir from a man under the age of 40 seems odd, but it is timely and relevant. Vance grew up in a broken, drug-addled, hillbilly home; he had challenges aplenty but also a unique sort of love and support of an extended family. He made it through high school, enlisted in the Marine Corps, got an Undergraduate degree from Ohio State, and ended his unlikely educational journey by graduating Yale Law School. He reached success from an unlikely place. His characterization of both his family in the hills of Kentucky and his peers in the rust belt town of Middletown, Ohio describes a white population that is not privileged in any identifiable sense. Vance nostalgically will recall the cultural quirks of his Mamaw and despondently write of effects of the opioid epidemic exacting a heavy toll. He takes the reader through his awkward first experiences entering a new social class in a good-natured way by employing self effacing humor to overpower pitiable ignorance. I quote here an excerpt of a review written by The New Yorker:
“Vance is after a certain kind of sympathy: sympathy among equals that doesn’t demean or condescend. Such sympathy can’t be deterministic and categorical. In fact, it must be a little judgmental; it must see the people to whom it’s extended as dignified individuals who retain their moral obligations.”
“…it’s easy to fall into this sympathy trap. At best, you can be a well-intentioned but nonjudgmental — and, therefore, condescending — outsider. Only an insider can speak about his community with honest anguish.”
The observation that only an insider can critique a culture without coming off as condescending is astute, and Trump’s ability to circumvent class with plainspoken language is nothing short of remarkable. He was able to adopt the dual personas of the common working man while simultaneously singing his own praises with respect to his millions of dollars of net worth. Trump supporters are not offended by the wealthy because of their bank accounts, they are put off due to condescension and the notion that others perceive themselves as better.
Americans that typically consider themselves to be better-educated, better-read, and better-informed continued to deride Trump supporters as the Wal-Mart shopping, gun-toting, white supremacist monsters such as Dave Chappelle satirically characterized in his Clayton T. Bigsby sketch a decade ago. I was, and still am, guilty of oversimplifying Mr. Trump’s supporters. America’s educated “elite” is the cohort that drove the political discussion and subverted the noble enterprise of education into a PC-police sanctioned line in the sand of Haves and Have-Nots. I know a lot of people with college degrees that are idiots, and conversely, I know plenty of talented and smart people who did not choose to attend university. The cavalier use of labels “uneducated” and “unskilled” vastly oversimplifies a complex, dynamic, and rich group of people with different priorities than the political and media establishment. I worked in restaurants throughout my time spent earning both my bachelor’s and doctoral degrees; there were many times where I felt more in my element carrying bus buckets with a kid from Southie than I did sitting next to a predoctoral peer talking about the Kreb’s Cycle. The human experience cannot be reduced to demographic checklists expected to encapsulate the widely varied and unerringly special aspects of individuals. Statistics, like metrics, are useful tools for analysis and trend-watching, but reliance on numbers to shape the future is akin to relying on the tail to wag the dog.
Between working in varied blue collar industries and the United States Air Force, I have encountered people from all walks of life working in myriad capacities. I do believe that I am largely the product of a privileged upbringing; I had loving, supportive, and demanding parents. I never feared that my appearance or beliefs would be a hindrance to my acceptance in any capacity. I was also fortunate to have the financial security to only have to worry about myself and my own performance. This is distraction-mitigated existence paved my path with golden bricks compared to what many people face. I do not believe the world of J.D. Vance is more difficult than growing up in an inner city plagued by gangs or with a family constantly on the move due to questionable immigration status. I cannot imagine what that is like, and I have tremendous admiration for the men and women that persevere such environments. I achieved, but there was very little that I had to overcome.
My peer group bashes the masses that have buoyed Mr. Trump to victory from a pedestal bolstered by expensive educations and well researched policy concerns they have discussed over cocktails in major cities. The widespread disbelief among the so-called elites is unsurprising given the gulf that exists in the way that each group perceives the responsibilities of the politicians that represent them. I fear that until the “educated” can find a shared language and common ground with those that feel left behind, we will continue to see bitterness and tension run rampant between two camps. Both want America to be better yet can’t compare definitions of what ‘better’ might look like, much less how to get there. Without exception, any stranger you encounter will know at least one thing that you do not, regardless of intellect or career. Treat every encounter as an opportunity to learn something new and perhaps we can start to bridge this chasm.
— WF
