Ideologists are inherently totalitarian, especially when a still small voice tells them that their opinions are vulnerable to criticism. Shrillness then becomes the mental white noise with which they drown out their own doubts. They can’t allow any corner of the world to escape their attention. Uniformity will both demonstrate their correctness and, if it lasts long enough, make criticism unthinkable. Just as the white noise of shrillness once did, so will perpetual silence eventually allay their doubts.
Surrender is wrought by cowardice and, slightly less dishonorably, by boredom. What intelligent person wants to spend his life disputing evident absurdity? Behind the concept of trigger warnings, of course, is a whole hinterland of psychological and sociological rubbish, which it would be tedious to have to clear away. I think in this context of “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” in “Through the Looking-Glass”:
“The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand.
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
‘If only this were cleared away,’
They said, ‘it would be grand.’
“‘If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
‘That they could get it clear?’
‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.”
There are one of two possible responses (other than outright opposition) to the Augean stable of ideological folly.
The easiest thing to do in both cases is to give in to the monomaniacs; but the first response is to go into what Germans in the time of Hitler called “inner emigration,” that is to say, to try to find a niche in which to get on with one’s life undisturbed by the surrounding idiocy and viciousness, for example by laying low and taking up an interest that flies below the ideological radar.
This method can’t be a hundred percent successful, because the ideological monomaniacs demand not merely the absence of dissent from their ideology, but also some proof of positive adherence to it: for example, by signing up to policies on equality, inclusion, and diversity.
By signing up to such self-contradictory nonsense, of course, the person who seeks inner emigration feels soiled; he has undermined his own probity. But at least, or so he hopes, he will then be free of interference. This hope is usually dashed because, to quote another poem:
“… that is called paying the Dane-geld;
But we’ve proved it again and again,
That if once you have paid him the Dane-geld
You never get rid of the Dane.”
In other words, the ideologist always comes back for more self-abasement. Today it’s transgenderism, tomorrow it will be—what? The glories of incest, the social necessity and benefit of infanticide? It doesn’t matter: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.
Another way of dealing with the ideologists is to obey the old slogan that if you can’t beat them, join them. People therefore join up to what is, in effect, a new secular religion, and since most people who do so are not out-and-out villains or opportunists, they have to persuade themselves that they actually do believe the tenets of the new religion; and, as is often the way with converts, they become fanatics, not merely to persuade themselves, but to expunge their wicked past in which they were not believers and were quite possibly mockers.
Management is a little like a religion also. I have noticed the terrible effect that joining management has on professional people who previously had always seemed to me good and sensible. Within weeks of being absorbed into management, though they may well have sworn that they would never be co-opted into its ways, they start to speak a strange hieratic language and claim to believe passionately in what they’re doing, for example sacking people or closing down a department. They are like the Fore people of New Guinea, who used to eat their deceased relatives’ brains, thereby becoming infected with a molecule called a prion that led to dementia and death, passing through a phase of fatuous laughter.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐜𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦. 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐜𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐜𝐲, 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐞.
