Updated Syllabus
SYLLABUS Courses: PPE Philosophy Seminar and Philosophy Tutorial Seminar Time: Thursday (and sometimes on Tuesday) 1:15-4:00 Seminar Place: Kravis 168 (when not online or outside) Tutorial Time: Designated Tuesdays, by appointment Professor: Paul Hurley Contact Info: paul.hurley@cmc.edu Office Hours: W 2:00-4:00, F 12:30-2:30 (with occasional rescheduling to accommodate faculty meetings) INTRODUCTION This is t...
A Brief Thought on Empathy
ReplyDeleteI am interested in how and to what extent we grant dangerous leaders empathy, acknowledging their good intentions, versus condemning their actions as guided by selfish or criminal ones.
Brettschneider cites how “both Adams and Nixon” were “called paranoid by their contemporaries,” but were acting in response to genuine beliefs about the state of the country or the rightful organization of government.
For Nixon, “the battle at home over Vietnam was a civil war,” which to him justified using “otherwise criminal means to shut down dissent” (273). However, Brettscheider also describes him as “criminally minded,” and having “criminal ambitions” (290). Is it possible to truly separate misguided, earnest intentions, from a desire to wield authoritarian power, perhaps out of pride, arrogance, or self-interest?
Adams “opposed direct criticism” of the president “not merely out of vanity, but from a sincere belief that it would lead to… political instability” (42). But, he also posed a “threat to democracy” because of his particular “Ego and thin skin,” believing “an attack on him was an attack on the office” (43).
How do we disentangle earnest, misguided intentions from manipulative, self-interested ones? Insofar as we believe that Adams and Nixon truly believed that power in the executive was necessary for national security, to what extent can we also judge their character as acting from ill-intentions (-- which we may very well should do!)?
I think about this particularly as it relates to Trump. I have discussions with people where we consider whether Trump is an idiot, or a calculated villain. His often ridiculous manner makes it too easy to condemn Trump as dumb, acting out of cluelessness. Yet, there also seems to be consensus that Trump is a smart, educated businessman, which could support a picture of Trump as somewhat of an evil manipulative genius.
Though it seems clear that Trump particularly has an ego which undoubtedly influences his actions and policy decisions, is there a chance he is acting somewhat out of a belief in what is best for the country? Is it possible that, similar to how we look back at Adams and acknowledge a genuine debate over two interpretations of good government, history will somehow deem Trump as merely misguided?
How do we assess the characters and intentions of public figures who act according to the observational equivalent of arrogance and self-interest, but at least profess earnest intentions for the good of the country?
Awesome blog post Violet! I was also interested with the interaction between self-interest and elected officials. I wanted to pose the idea that self-interest, far from crippling democracy, is the engine that keeps representation working. We elect officials to juggle three overlapping incentives—personal ambition, party survival, and constituent demands—and that tension is supposed to prevent any single impulse from dominating. James Madison forwarded this idea in Federalist 51 (GO APUSH!!!): “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.”
ReplyDeleteWhat looks like presidential omnipotence from a distance is, on closer inspection, a daily negotiation with multiple power centers. Take Donald Trump: he acts not only on his own impulses but also on the interests of an ideologically sorted, primary-driven Republican Party. To contrast, Richard Nixon confronted a fractured GOP and a Democratic-controlled Congress; Sen. Goldwater’s bloc could credibly threaten to desert him. Today’s closed primaries, conservative media landscape, and safe districts reward unity, not dissent. Because of that Trump faces a broader—but more homogeneous—set of intra-party demands. His hard-line posture forces Republican legislators either to embrace the MAGA agenda or, like Mitt Romney, risk exile.
Still, no president rules alone. The rapid ping-pong of trade policy in Trump’s first hundred days illustrates, in addition to institutional ineptitude, how competing principals pull in opposite directions: imposing tariffs on Canada and Mexico stoked the “America First” brand, but backlash from senators and business allies prompted partial retreats. Self-interest on both sides—White House image-making and legislators’ reelection incentives—produced the zig-zag.
Leaders with an authoritarian style often try to shrink the number of actors who can challenge their plans. Trump’s drive to forge a monolithic party beneath MAGA tightened his grip but also tied his fortunes to the loyalty of that very bloc. Even Mitch McConnell, once the consummate inside player, finds himself isolated without a large enough coalition to check the president. By tying the very identity of bloc that supports him to his own personage, Trump has heavily curbed congressional checks to his authority.
Self-interest, then, is double-edged. It can grease the legislative gears by aligning individual ambition with public bargaining, but it can also entrench one faction and punish dissent. The democratic challenge is not to abolish self-interest—impossible—but to channel it through transparent rules, open primaries, and competitive districts so that ambition actually counteracts ambition rather than silencing it.