The first Morning Jolt of the week looks at two dramatic developments in Syria, some big decisions coming down the line from the Supreme Court, and then this observation…
How Tragic Events Turn Into Partisan Foodfights, Faster Than Ever Before
Let’s examine a familiar pattern in news stories…
Something awful and shocking happens: A madman shoots up a kindergarten classroom. Two jihadist wannabes blow up the Boston Marathon. A tornado tears apart an Oklahoma City suburb. A group of jihadists in the United Kingdom behead a soldier leaving his barracks and then bark tirades to the passersby, hands dripping with blood.
Some of those horrific incidents tie into some sort of policy debate, but for most people, that’s something to be addressed some time after a tragedy, not in the immediate moments after the news breaks. But almost immediately, people begin citing the horrible event as proof that their political worldview has been vindicated once again. Some writers seem to specialize in their ability to take a terrible event and have the first op-ed on an editor’s desk, tying the shocking event to their preexisting policy preferences. David Sirota may be the champion of this:
April 16: “Let’s hope the Boston Marathon bomber is a white American.”
May 16: “The Texas fertilizer plant explosion reveals that lax regulations are far more dangerous than any form of terrorism.”
May 21: “Anyone regret slashing National Weather Service budget now? With GOP-backed cuts to forecasting agency, experts warn future storms will go undetected and more lives lost.”
When people die suddenly and terribly, and an editorial page editor needs a column to argue it’s ultimately the fault of Republicans, Sirota’s always there to step up.
These horrible events are all distinct and separate, but they hit us with big questions – i.e., how could this happen? Where was/is God? Why must the innocent suffer, and why must we live in a world where evil exists and can strike us without warning? Should the sudden death of others remind us to live each day like it’s our last? How can you make long-term plans for the future, knowing that tragedy could strike at any time? Do we, or does any society, sufficiently thank and appreciate and honor those who risk and lose their lives in efforts to protect the rest of us?
Those are tough questions. The political questions are pretty easy by comparison – and I suspect some people eagerly turn to them after something terrible happens, because it’s almost calming to turn one’s attention to bashing the familiar scapegoat of the political opposition. We can’t do anything to un-do the actions of jihadists, tornadoes, or a kindergarten gunman, but boy, can we tell the world how angry we are about the political opposition, who we’re certain is really to blame for the terrible event.
Almost immediately after a terrible event – sometimes while they’re still going on – we find someone throwing a political argument at us – sometimes some random yokel on Twitter, sometimes a semi-professional blame-thrower like Sirota. Naturally, the public square is full of people who hate leaving any argument or attack unanswered. Before you know it, just as you’re getting your head around some sudden tragedy or abomination, you look up and your Twitter feed has become a food-fight of competing “how dare you!” shrieks.
This phenomenon is problematic for a lot of reasons. One big one is that each time this happens, the public debate becomes a little less focused on the terrible event – “X” – and a little more on what somebody said about “X.” Perhaps this is my cynicism showing, but I’m no longer surprised that people say terrible and stupid things after awful events. I’m starting to get skeptical about the need to treat obnoxious post-tragedy comments as newsworthy. Half of these are cries for attention, anyway.
Recently a conservative blogger pointed out some cretin attempting to raise money, making light of the death of a figure that many on the Right respect. Some folks wanted to blog more about this cretin and denounce him and call him out for his outrageously vile behavior, etc. Of course, the cretin wanted attention, and it’s quite likely that his ultimate desire is precisely to get a bunch of conservative bloggers talking about how terrible he is – because that will bring his fundraising effort to the attention of more people. I would define vindication as his pathetic fundraising effort dying a quiet death – a reminder that no one wants to give him money to continue being obnoxious, no one really cares what he says or thinks, and that in the grand scheme of things, he doesn’t really matter.
How widely could we get a “don’t feed the trolls” policy adopted?