why brit hume was out of line

Despite one’s studied avoidance, the products of the cablenews assembly lines have a way of entering the atmosphere of our planet.  Even most of these, though, are relatively benign and unworthy of comment.  Recently, however, there has been a controversy that reveals the relationship between “religion” and “politics” in a unique way.  Because of its value as a cultural barometer, it is worthy of some analysis.

Responding to the relational plight of the golfer Tiger Woods, the FoxNews personality Brit Hume made the following remarks:

Following this, it seems that some political hell broke loose, with numerous vocal denunciations of Hume’s remarks appearing over the elapsed time since the remarks.  In order to understand this controversy, it is important to step back and to ask, “What happened?”

Particularly because of the perennial debate between advocates and critics of “faith in the public square,” one is tempted to toss this controversy into such a pile of refuse.  Instead, we should carefully consider what, if any, societal rules Brit Hume broke with his remarks.

Really, there was nothing at all inherently wrong or odd about what he said.  Compared to similar statements from people like Jesus, Mohammad, and Nietzsche, B. Hume’s contention was tame and measured.  Perhaps we should then interrogate the medium rather than the statement itself.

In his analysis of how language functions, J. L. Austin distinguished between locutions (the “face-value” of a statement), illocutions (the intent of the speaker of a statement), and perlocutions (how a statement is received by the hearer).  Given that there is no conceivable moral problem (whatever factual questions are in play) with B. Hume’s locution or illocution (as his intent was beyond sincere), it is likely at the level of perlocution that an apparent problem arises.

And this is where we ought to consider the social context of B. Hume’s remarks: Is is possible that he was simply doing something that, though it can be done in a public setting, is prohibited in a certain kind of setting?  In order to make this assertion, we need specimens of normal conduct in the setting of a cablenews event.

For starters, Bill Kristol’s flippant response to B. Hume’s statement was illuminating: How on earth can one respond to serious concern for the soul of a human being with a distasteful joke about how, silly personal issues aside, in a certain spectator sport such and such a prediction will hold true?  One can do so if that is the anticipated mode of conversation, if it was a serious religious truth claim that becomes “awkward,” and a contentless bit of sports journalism hackery that “fits in” with the expected manner of discourse.

Brit Hume’s crime here was to break from the script, to not act like a soulless, brainless hack who performs like the circus monkey that Jon Stewart was meant to perform as on a consequently cancelled display for the entertainment of mindless fools.  One should particularly notice the bowtie-wearing fellow’s continued attempts to advertise “news” products, as well as the self-serving political binary (left vs. right) set up in place of thought:

Although this particular circus act was canceled, the political circus industry goes on and remains intolerant of any serious and measured discourse.  Still, it offers massive financial benefits to shareholders, giving viewers the world in exchange for their souls.

when i rule the world

Before securing the world’s nuclear arsenals, I will certainly see to it that the inventor of the locution “to love on” is taken out and shot.  Immediately.

against democracy, part one: transportation

In light of the tyrannical hold that the notion of the inherent goodness of democracy has on the English-speaking world, The Infrastructurist’s recent commentary on high speed rail construction in China is shocking.  Lamenting the political calculus that keeps most of the U.S. government moving against construction of rail lines on the urban coasts, they insinuate the unspeakable:

It’s starting to become one of those unspoken truths that everyone just accepts: Compared to Europe, and Asia, the U.S. is in a sorry state when it comes to our rail system (or lack thereof). But the precise explanations for why we’re left in the dust while much of the rest of the developed world speeds by in gorgeous high-speed style remains undiscussed on a national level…

…the structure of our electoral politics hands disproportionate power to states with smaller populations, so why shouldn’t this have a rippling effect with infrastructure? Still, in an era of economic uncertainty, it’s becoming more crucial that our cities are equipped to keep contributing the three-quarters of the nation’s economic activity that they currently shoulder. Of course, try telling that to a middle-state Congressman up for re-election.

In contrast, China’s rail system is on pace to become the most spectacular in the world (as China returns to the position of economic dominance that it has arguably held for up to 18 of the last 20 centuries).  As NPR reports,

By 2012, China plans to have almost three dozen high-speed rail lines crisscrossing the country. Nearly 130,000 workers are now building the Beijing-to-Shanghai line, which at $32 billion will be China’s most expensive construction project ever. The frenzy of construction is at the heart of China’s massive fiscal stimulus to revive the economy.

Although the top-down style of the Middle Kingdom’s government is too imperial and monolithic for optimal human flourishing among such a large population, it is admirable that it has avoided the silly squabbles of the nit-picking ignoramuses who drive discourse and policy in large-scale liberal democracies.  Even largely democratic regions like India and the European Union have enough good sense to not allow every fool to hold up obvious progress.

Because of the tendency of U.S. Americans to subscribe to the notion that one’s personal opinion is inherently sacred, though, funds that could be used for a decent transportation network are instead diverted to rural roadways, the seemingly endless military occupations of Mesopotamia and of much of Central Asia, and untouchable entitlement programs.  And this doesn’t even begin to account for the strangleholds that public employees unions have over state and local governments, winning luxury for their members at public expense.  Furthermore, the U.S. obsession with political democracy has impeded most hopes of something like economic democracy (even as a voluntary project); such a shift in the direction of equality is simply unthinkable in a rights-consumed individualistic culture.

And this individualism is at the root of the nation’s perpetually primitive public transportation systems.  While sycophantic senators demand (infrequent, yet costly) Amtrak service for alleged conurbations that are really in wilderness regions, relatively densely-populated areas continue to go without any substantial public transit networks.  As previously noted, provincial politicians subscribe to unconscionable schemes rather than working in the public interest.  So we pay for a ridiculous $4 million test of a form of public transit that allows white people to avoid ever sitting next to a Rosa Parks – or even anyone slightly tanned:

on the quiet continent

Being immersed in the “be here now”-ness of post-New Age popular thinking, early 21st century U.S. residents are apt to forget that history exists.  Given that “historical consciousness” (the strong notion that other people at other points in time thought and lived quite differently than those in one’s own culture) was one of the greatest achievements of the Enlightenment (roughly speaking), this is a bit disconcerting.

While this tendency is, for the most part, harmless, perspective does govern sight and our sight affects our knowledge and our actions.  (In Lonerganian terms, our experiencing and understanding are prior to our reasonable judgment and responsible deciding.)

This issue first struck me in relationship to the current U.S. debate regarding federal government involvement in health care.  Because of its recent vintage and widespread usage, one might even be tempted to put quotation marks around the term “health care.”  And, furthermore, even the reality (or at least the mentality surrounding its application) that the term describes is incredibly recent.

Then, I came across an excellent treatment by Joe Carter of the exaggerated reactions that some seem to have had to the amount of success that a Nigerian “child of privilege” (a term that I’ve hardly ever heard used of a white child of privilege) had in nearly carrying out a suicide attack; while it is certainly true that “mistakes were made,” the investigative witch hunts that followed the incident (WHO IN OUR GOVERNMENT CAUSED THIS? ask the cablenewsbots) demonstrate a pathetic amount of dependence on government authorities to protect us from evil.

Similarly, Rod Dreher called my attention to an excellent David Brooks column on current perceptions of what history is and how it works.  In the midst of a Niebuhrian rant on the necessary vicissitudes of human history (belief in which is not the same as a capitulation to blind fate), Brooks highlights the real issue:

Many people seem to be in the middle of a religious crisis of faith. All the gods they believe in — technology, technocracy, centralized government control — have failed them in this instance.

In previous ages, people engaged in what we would now see as obviously religious practices and beliefs; those of our own culture, however, quite easily slip past us unnoticed.  This is a product of a lack of attention to history, to how others have really lived and thought.

But the fact is that concrete practices such as attending football games and walking through shopping malls and art museums are (as Jamie Smith points out in a new book that looks to be fascinating) more often than we realize deeply religious.  So, Brooks has pinpointed, is our media and cultural dependence on government: It is the system that either succeeds (validating our sacrifices and faith) or fails (indicating the need for institutional but usually not perspectival reformation).

And much the same is true of health care.  Although it is beyond understandable that we all would do anything possible to avert our own deaths and those of persons close to us, with a lack of historical perspective we forget just how peculiar our circumstance is.  That is to say, it is manifestly astonishing that our political debate coalesces around the topic of how to allocate resources that even fifty years ago would have been unimaginable.

In the same way, while all governments have the responsibility of defending their citizens from outside attack (by one means or another), the fact that even one person or weapon slipping through is considered scandalous is historically anomalous.  Under most previous (and current) governments, such an anti-septic standard of freedom-from-anything-or-anyone-deemed-undesirable would be inexplicable.  (Perhaps this is related to U.S. Americans’ remarkably high sanitary standards.)

While relative prosperity and military dominance explain a great deal of this tendency to assume that isolation from the evil that permeates “the rest of the world” is actually normative, historical coincidence (particularly the geographic isolation of North America) do a great deal more in explaining such psychological isolation: Other than (mostly indigenous or forcibly removed and enslaved) peoples who have been on the “wrong” side of Anglo-America’s military dominance, since the founding of the U.S. North Americans have not faced major devastation as a result of outside forces (e.g., Argentine hyperinflation, Dresden firebombing, Bangladeshi flooding).

Thus, it should not be entirely unexpected that cries of hysteria greet tragic yet not unthinkable events such as the flooding of New Orleans, then call for the removal of (ostensibly) incompetent government officials.  But this is the quiet continent, so we usually have to hire cablenewsbots to make our own noise.

why “christianity” didn’t cause “the crash”

While journalists have a great deal of responsibility, they are often not the least bit responsible for the titles of their pieces.  And this is quite fortunate for Hanna Rosin, who would otherwise be saddled with one of the most thought-free titles of all time.  This is because her recent Atlantic piece was called “Did Christianity Cause the Crash?“

Still, the piece itself embodies some unfortunate fallacies, as aptly diagnosed in Immanent Frame commentary by my Karl Barth professor from last semester, D. Stephen Long (found via James K. A. Smith).  Before addressing Long’s excellent points, though, a brief recap and critique of the article is in order:

In her examination of the links between the so-called “prosperity gospel” and the subprime mortgage industry, Rosin interviews people in (mostly-Hispanic) Pentecostal churches.  Recounting the history of this movement, she links its zeitgeist to that of U.S. culture more broadly, with its proclivity toward materially-evidenced happiness.

Then, Rosin links this religious movement to the proliferation of subprime mortgages both geographically (they were both popular in suburban Sunbelt communities and in predominantly African-American or Hispanic areas) and personally, with people offering such mortgages to fellow church members.

What Rosin neglects, though, is the fact that none of the people whom she profiles are the ones “pulling the strings,” buying and selling derivatives, writing and passing legislation, &c.  They are, however, relatively poor and uneducated (she didn’t profile upper-middle class suburbanites) and do whatever they can to attain to an “American dream” that was initially formulated and promoted by others.

And this is what Smith points out in his own commentary, especially highlighting Rick Warren, whom Rosin had cited as a critic of the “prosperity gospel”:

While folks like Rick Warren are quick to denounce the heresy of treating God like a cosmic bubble-gum machine, run-of-the-mill suburban evangelicals are complicit with a consumerism and fixation on property that operates under-the-radar, as it were. While mainstream megapastors aren’t promising Bentleys for faith, they generally extol a vision of the “good life” that has 4 bedrooms and a 3-car garage, with an SUV in the drive. (If you really want to know what evangelicals value, stroll the parking lot at [Rick Warren's] Saddleback Church—and then ask folks where they live.)

If the prosperity gospel does not hold true for tan, brown, and black people, why should white people aspire to much the same thing (though with a different name and face ["American dream," "Protestant work ethic," &c.])?  Is such wealth to “the glory of God” if the attempted wealth of Hispanic immigrants is not to la gloria de Dios?  Both are illusory.

Now for Long’s brilliant commentary:

Unfortunately, “Christianity” no longer bears sufficient commonalty among its adherents for it to bear the kind of agency suggested in this provocative title. Nonetheless, Rosin admirably discloses the negative social consequences of a Christian heresy—the gospel of prosperity. Christianity’s fragmentation means those primarily responsible for teaching it, such as Joel Osteen, cannot be (non-violently) silenced. That makes it all the more dangerous for it appears to represent ‘Christianity’. Heresy is not a thoroughly corrupt form of Christianity, but the distortion of a truth. God does seek the plight of the poor to be alleviated. But the gospel of prosperity distorts this teaching, bringing it into alliance with a heretical doctrine of providence where God’s providence no longer works by holding goods in common, but as Adam Smith taught, by each looking only to his own interest. That supposedly brings Isaiah’s “Wealth of Nations.” Only freedom from any common regulation—moral, theological, political—will bring wealth. But this is not a shift in an “American doctrine of providence.” It is its fruit.

Despite showing us the negative social consequences of heresy, I nonetheless think Rosin confuses symptom with cause. A subclass that clean toilets, pick vegetables and manicure lawns, sought a quick fix to economic servitude. Who could blame them? But the cause lies deeper than the gospel of prosperity. She rightly diagnoses a contributing, theological factor in ‘providence,’ but mis-locates it. For that reason, the question of causes needs expansion. I would suggest the following:

Did Adam Smith cause the crash when he taught his distorted doctrine of providence that seeking to advance the common good did more harm than seeking one’s own interest?

Did Reformed Christianity cause the crash when it adopted this doctrine of providence?

Did the social sciences, especially economists, cause the crash when some drew on that doctrine of providence, and assumed they now had law-like rules of predictive power about future wealth?

First, it is important to note Long’s comment on the absurdity of twenty-thousand (or probably more by now) “Christian denominations,” each claiming some sort of authoritative account of religious truth.  While some degree of religious pluralism is inevitable, such liberal fragmentation is a particularly North American disease of the last century or so.  And the silencing of heretical voices such as that of Osteen would be an almost unmitigated good.

Furthermore, when economic liberalism displaces authoritative dogma, it, as Long explains, becomes nothing but a heretical dogma of its own, offering to save us all (even the poor) given enough time.  Although critics of Christianity have for millenia ridiculed the delay of the eschaton, few voices today dare to question the inevitable march toward progress of economic and political liberalism (capitalism and democracy).

Such religious faith in these liberalisms (given the continued relative material and political oppression of millions) is ludicrous.  Only a monarch who performatively refutes economic and political laws can save us and give us a framework within which to pursue the common good.