The latest issue of New York magazine features a long, bizarre, amazing story by Kera Bolonik about a hapless Harvard Law professor, Bruce Hay, who managed to get duped by two apparent grifters, Maria-Pia Shuman and Mischa Haider, one a lesbian and one a transgender woman, into believing that he had fathered a child with Shuman — a con that they allegedly ran on multiple men at once.
From this paternity-trap beginning, Hay found himself emotionally entangled, ideologically bullied and effectively extorted. At one point, Shuman and Haider somehow tricked him into letting them “house-nap” his Cambridge home, until a court order evicted them. Finally, as the grift ran dry, Haider filed a sexual harassment complaint against Hay that’s still being adjudicated by Harvard.
When this story — far more byzantine even than my summary — dropped into the internet, the second-most-interesting thing, after the wild tale itself, was to watch how it was read by people who lean right versus people who lean left. The leftward-leaners were more likely to focus on Hay as a uniquely gullible or lust-addled individual, and to draw strictly personal lessons from his disastrous arc. (For instance, to quote the Atlantic’s Adam Serwer, that “men need meaningful and supportive friendships with people they are not married to, especially into middle age.”)
The rightward-leaners, on the other hand, read the story politically, as a vivid allegory for the relationship between the old liberalism and the new — between a well-meaning liberal establishment that’s desperate to act enlightened and a woke progressivism that ruthlessly exploits the establishment’s ideological subservience. (“Not only did [Hay] trust Shuman,” Bolonik writes, but “he felt it would have been insulting for a heterosexual cisgender man to question a professed lesbian as to whether she’d had sex with other men.”) In this reading the Hay-Shuman-Haider story is a real-life version of a Michel Houellebecq novel, a tale of liberal culture that wears reactionary implications on its sleeve.
Since I am a right-leaner you can easily imagine to which reading I was instinctively inclined. But step back a bit, and the contrasting responses to this one bonkers story offer a way to think about our political polarization, which is shaped by a recurring version of the Hay story’s reception.
By this I mean the heart of polarization is often not a disagreement about the facts of a particular narrative, but about whether that story is somehow representative — or whether it’s just one tale among many in our teeming society, and doesn’t stand for anything larger than itself.
When conservatives talk about liberal media bias, for instance, their complaint isn’t necessarily that mainstream outlets fail to report stories that might confirm a conservative worldview. Rather, it’s that they report on them in ways that make them sound dry and dull or just random and unrepresentative, without ever acknowledging their wider interest or significance.
Likewise, when liberals damn conservative megaphones for reporting “alternative facts” instead of real ones, what they often really mean is that the right-wing media reports on real facts and real stories — crimes committed by illegal immigrants, say, or the violent edge to the Antifa protests — but then overstates or misreads their significance.
All this suggests that breaking out of polarization, thinking for yourself instead of as a partisan, is ultimately more about imagination than information, and not something achieved by becoming better educated in the facts of issue X or Y or Z. (Indeed, studies suggest that the most factually informed voters are also reliably the most partisan.)
If I were trying to de-polarize someone, in the way that you de-program members of cults or revolutionary cells, I might hand them a copy of their favorite magazine or newspaper, and ask them to construct a version in which the exact same set of stories were edited and headlined and prioritized by an editor from the opposite political persuasion. (I promise you my own guest-editing stint at New York would be fantastic.) Or to program an opinion show for Rachel Maddow using only stories that Chris Wallace and Bret Baier report, or a show for Laura Ingraham using only the stories that lead MSNBC.
It’s not that full de-polarization is ever possible; basic moral and philosophical commitments inevitably divide us. But seeing our disagreements through the lens of narrative might get us closer to a crucial insight — which is that in a big, diverse and complicated society, multiple narratives can all be true at once.
Maybe Bruce Hay’s strange odyssey isn’t actually a heightened example of what’s gone wrong with academic liberalism or the sexual revolution as a whole. But it could be such an example, and the mistreatment of a particular migrant family at the border could also be a heightened example of what’s gone wrong with Trumpian conservatism … because choosing a side, as we all tend to do, doesn’t have to mean taking only that side’s narratives as truth.
And nothing should temper partisanship more than an awareness that somewhere, on some issue, people with whom you disagree are telling a story that you really need to hear.
The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: [email protected].
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTOpinion) and Instagram, join the Facebook political discussion group, Voting While Female.
Ross Douthat has been an Opinion columnist for The Times since 2009. He is the author of several books, most recently, “To Change the Church: Pope Francis and the Future of Catholicism.”
You can follow him on Twitter: @DouthatNYT
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Home » Analysis & Comment » Opinion | The Stories That Divide Us
Opinion | The Stories That Divide Us
The latest issue of New York magazine features a long, bizarre, amazing story by Kera Bolonik about a hapless Harvard Law professor, Bruce Hay, who managed to get duped by two apparent grifters, Maria-Pia Shuman and Mischa Haider, one a lesbian and one a transgender woman, into believing that he had fathered a child with Shuman — a con that they allegedly ran on multiple men at once.
From this paternity-trap beginning, Hay found himself emotionally entangled, ideologically bullied and effectively extorted. At one point, Shuman and Haider somehow tricked him into letting them “house-nap” his Cambridge home, until a court order evicted them. Finally, as the grift ran dry, Haider filed a sexual harassment complaint against Hay that’s still being adjudicated by Harvard.
When this story — far more byzantine even than my summary — dropped into the internet, the second-most-interesting thing, after the wild tale itself, was to watch how it was read by people who lean right versus people who lean left. The leftward-leaners were more likely to focus on Hay as a uniquely gullible or lust-addled individual, and to draw strictly personal lessons from his disastrous arc. (For instance, to quote the Atlantic’s Adam Serwer, that “men need meaningful and supportive friendships with people they are not married to, especially into middle age.”)
The rightward-leaners, on the other hand, read the story politically, as a vivid allegory for the relationship between the old liberalism and the new — between a well-meaning liberal establishment that’s desperate to act enlightened and a woke progressivism that ruthlessly exploits the establishment’s ideological subservience. (“Not only did [Hay] trust Shuman,” Bolonik writes, but “he felt it would have been insulting for a heterosexual cisgender man to question a professed lesbian as to whether she’d had sex with other men.”) In this reading the Hay-Shuman-Haider story is a real-life version of a Michel Houellebecq novel, a tale of liberal culture that wears reactionary implications on its sleeve.
Since I am a right-leaner you can easily imagine to which reading I was instinctively inclined. But step back a bit, and the contrasting responses to this one bonkers story offer a way to think about our political polarization, which is shaped by a recurring version of the Hay story’s reception.
By this I mean the heart of polarization is often not a disagreement about the facts of a particular narrative, but about whether that story is somehow representative — or whether it’s just one tale among many in our teeming society, and doesn’t stand for anything larger than itself.
When conservatives talk about liberal media bias, for instance, their complaint isn’t necessarily that mainstream outlets fail to report stories that might confirm a conservative worldview. Rather, it’s that they report on them in ways that make them sound dry and dull or just random and unrepresentative, without ever acknowledging their wider interest or significance.
Likewise, when liberals damn conservative megaphones for reporting “alternative facts” instead of real ones, what they often really mean is that the right-wing media reports on real facts and real stories — crimes committed by illegal immigrants, say, or the violent edge to the Antifa protests — but then overstates or misreads their significance.
All this suggests that breaking out of polarization, thinking for yourself instead of as a partisan, is ultimately more about imagination than information, and not something achieved by becoming better educated in the facts of issue X or Y or Z. (Indeed, studies suggest that the most factually informed voters are also reliably the most partisan.)
If I were trying to de-polarize someone, in the way that you de-program members of cults or revolutionary cells, I might hand them a copy of their favorite magazine or newspaper, and ask them to construct a version in which the exact same set of stories were edited and headlined and prioritized by an editor from the opposite political persuasion. (I promise you my own guest-editing stint at New York would be fantastic.) Or to program an opinion show for Rachel Maddow using only stories that Chris Wallace and Bret Baier report, or a show for Laura Ingraham using only the stories that lead MSNBC.
It’s not that full de-polarization is ever possible; basic moral and philosophical commitments inevitably divide us. But seeing our disagreements through the lens of narrative might get us closer to a crucial insight — which is that in a big, diverse and complicated society, multiple narratives can all be true at once.
Maybe Bruce Hay’s strange odyssey isn’t actually a heightened example of what’s gone wrong with academic liberalism or the sexual revolution as a whole. But it could be such an example, and the mistreatment of a particular migrant family at the border could also be a heightened example of what’s gone wrong with Trumpian conservatism … because choosing a side, as we all tend to do, doesn’t have to mean taking only that side’s narratives as truth.
And nothing should temper partisanship more than an awareness that somewhere, on some issue, people with whom you disagree are telling a story that you really need to hear.
The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: [email protected].
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTOpinion) and Instagram, join the Facebook political discussion group, Voting While Female.
Ross Douthat has been an Opinion columnist for The Times since 2009. He is the author of several books, most recently, “To Change the Church: Pope Francis and the Future of Catholicism.”
You can follow him on Twitter: @DouthatNYT
Source: Read Full Article