Showing posts with label weirdness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weirdness. Show all posts

Sunday, August 04, 2024

The Problem with Calling Trump and Vance Weird

[my op-ed in today's LA Times]

Democratic politicians and pundits have recently begun throwing this insult at Republican presidential contender Donald Trump and his running mate, JD Vance: “weird.” As a scholar who has made my academic career in part by celebrating weirdness, I object. Trump and Vance don’t deserve the compliment.

The weird should be understood as whatever is strikingly contrary to the ordinary, predictable and readily understood. It is a contrast with the normal. Consider blades of grass. Although no two are exactly the same, their variation keeps to certain limits. But here’s a blade that splits into three halfway up, with each finger curling around in a loop. Why would it do that? Now that’s a weird blade of grass!

Recently, my family and I visited Hayao Miyazaki’s Ni-Tele Really Big Clock in Tokyo. What a weird object: It looms from the side of a skyscraper, featuring mannequins and giant bird claws. When noon strikes, one claw opens to reveal a smiling sun, a fish tail bangs a gong and a bell-headed mannequin enacts a goofy dance. Nature also offers plenty of weirdness, such as the miraculously thin, Seussian piles of stone in Utah’s Bryce Canyon, the surreal mineral-deposit terraces of Pamukkale in Turkey and gloriously bizarre fish and fungi around the world.

[Hayao Miyazaki’s Ni-Tele Really Big Clock in Tokyo]

The Democrats are getting mileage from calling Trump and Vance “weird.” The word has been used enough by allies of Vice President Kamala Harris and her presidential campaign to receive substantial news coverage as a political strategyeven praise for its success. The resonance of this strategy reflects a widespread misunderstanding of who deserves to be called weird. The term should conjure the guy who rides through Berkeley on a unicycle, wearing a top hat; the business school standout who drops out to live on an organic seed farm; the middle school kid who plasters their bedroom with posters of squids and snails, ignoring pop culture in favor of a deep fascination with mollusk biology. Each is, in their own way, a wonder of nature, and the world is richer for having them.

Trump’s and Vance’s behavior, on the other hand, reflects something more troubling. Their views toward women and reproductive rights, for example — demeaning the former and opposing the latter — are inappropriate and deservedly in the minority. But those views, unfortunately, are not rare enough to be truly weird. In fact, in contemporary America, Trump and Vance are normal, predictable and readily understood. They are ordinary, self-serving politicians, conforming to the demands of those who have rewarded their behavior.

And even if these perspectives were more unusual, that would not be the source of these politicians’ badness. Yes, some unusual things are bad, such as serial killings. And Trump does have his head-scratching moments — consider the frequent references to fictional serial killer Hannibal Lecter on the campaign trail. But things and people are not bad because they are weird. It seriously misrepresents the nature of Trump’s and Vance’s departure from liberal values to treat weirdness as their headline flaw.

What is it to be liberal? It is to tolerate, or even to celebrate, others with different values and practices. Liberal parents permit their children to make choices other than their own. Liberal societies are pluralistic and egalitarian, not requiring citizens to adhere to mainstream culture and religion.

There are always some gardeners who would prefer to mow down the weird blade of grass, and some people are similarly made uncomfortable by others they regard as weird. These are the people for whom “weird” is a choice insult. In the conformist hellscape of middle school (or at least of some middle schools), bands of lookalike kids who prize their normality — even more, their being perceived as normal — taunt the kids who don’t easily fit in, such as the mollusk lover. I was insulted as “weird” in school myself. But I grew to embrace my own weirdness and weirdness in general. I realized that to use “weird” as an insult is implicitly to accept a conformist worldview — a worldview that devalues rather than appreciates difference and novelty.

Our Democratic politicians and pundits are, and should be, better than that. The Democrats pride themselves on being the party of diversity, on accepting people with a wide range of worldviews, cultures, sexual orientations, life experiences and interests, on making room for nonconformists and those outside the mainstream.

Using “weird” as a term of mockery, as though that’s the best descriptor of Trump and Vance, may be politically advantageous right now. But it denigrates the truly weird. Instead, call Trump and Vance liars, authoritarians, conscienceless political shape-shifters and wrong on policy. Those are ample, and more appropriate, reasons to vote against them.

Friday, April 17, 2020

In Praise of Weirdness

I'm a weirdo. It's been a lifelong thing. The popular girls in middle school called me weird for relentlessly riffing on Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and 1st edition D&D. In high school, I wore the wildest second-hand 1970s clothes I could find and people wrote things in my yearbook like "you have amazingly bad taste in shirts!" Now I spend my time writing bizarre essays and stories about group consciousness, simulation skepticism, infinite immaterial Turing Machines, and garden snail sex.

So let me own it. I'm weird, and I like weird things! You too, I hope?

What is it to be weird? I propose this: Something is weird if it's not normal. To be weird, a thing has to be somehow unusual -- but simply being unusual isn't enough. A blade of grass might be bent slightly differently than most other blades of grass. That doesn't make it weird -- not unless it's bent in some weird way. Similarly, your car's license plate number is unusual (no one else has it) but probably not weird. To be weird, a thing must be in some respect strikingly contrary to expectations. A high school kid wearing flower-print bellbottoms amid the black skinny jeans of 1985 is weird. So is a philosopher who has enough of a sliver of dream skepticism to spread his arms to try to fly across campus. A blade of grass with a slightly different bend isn't strikingly contrary to expectations, but one that doubled back on itself in a triple loop then ended in a stringy fluff -- that would be a weirdo piece of grass, man. Totally not normal.

Most philosophers think of norms either statistically or normatively (where to violate a norm is to be in some respect bad), but the kind of violation of normality that is constitutive of weirdness isn't either of those. Statistical rarity isn't enough, as I just explained. But neither is the weird necessarily something that violates our ethical, epistemic, or aesthetic norms. On the contrary, weirdness in my sense is good.

Imagine a world without weirdness -- a world where everything proceeds more or less according to expectations. The grass all shows the normal range of variation; the high school kids all wear normal clothes; philosophers endorse only the normal range of sensible theses. How dull! A certain amount of weirdness is wonderful. When I imagine my ideal world, I imagine a world of variation and difference, where people, events, and objects often have surprisingly strange features.

Now before you read this an endorsement of the view that we should all go completely bananas, let me mention two strong counterpressures toward normality.

First: If everything is surprising, nothing is surprising. There can be no expectations in sheer chaos. Weirdness blooms only against a contrasting background of normality. Not everything can be weird. We weirdos require a sea of straight-men to differ from. So thank you, straight-men!

Second: If most things of Type X lack Feature F, typically there's a reason: Feature F is bad in things of Type X. If an X, then, weirdly has Feature F, that's a problem. It's weird to eat scrambled paper for breakfast. It's weird to glue your socks to your hair instead of sliding them comfortably onto your feet. There are excellent reasons people don't do those things. But those things aren't bad because they're weird; they're weird because they're bad.

The best weirdness is weirdness against a background of normality where the weird-making feature is not also a bad-making feature. This is weirdness as harmless (maybe even helpful) novelty and difference. It's the weirdness of my father, one Christmas, flocking and decorating a tumbleweed instead of a tree for the living room. It's the weirdness of the girl who wears cat ears and sparkly eye shadow to school. The world's capacity to produce weirdness is one of the most wonderful things about existence, right alongside pleasure, knowledge, kindness, and beauty.

[image source]

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If you enjoy my blog, check out my recent book: A Theory of Jerks and Other Philosophical Misadventures.