'Surviving Autocracy': one rejected myth, one persistent myth

Throughout U.S. history, Masha Gessen (they/them) begins their new book Surviving Autocracy, there has been a national myth of a "fundamental structural state of exception that asserts the power of white men over all others," i.e. a narrative that we'd immediately be plunged into chaos if we didn't let white men have all the control. (A "state of exception" is the use of an apparent crisis as a pretext for overriding existing legal constraints on the ruler's power.)

At the end of their book, they cite the historian Greg Grandin. Grandin, pointing out the United States' colonialist "myth of a goodness it embodied," observes that Trumpism "rejects even the myths that were used to justify expansionism." Trump is committed to isolationism and to narrowing the in-group of who counts within American democracy. Indeed, when he lies to justify a military attack, he embraces "the sense of inhabiting a contracting space rather than an expansive empire." In this way, Trump is unlike the younger Bush, who at least had a "pretense of promoting democracy" or "policing the world" behind his false claims.

Trumpism rejects the myth of American goodness. It accepts the myth of white supremacy, specifically that white supremacy is a tolerable way to deal with anxiety and uncertainty.

These ideas, and very much more, in this book:

Masha Gessen. Surviving Autocracy Riverhead, June 2, 2020.

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In June 2023, Ruth Ben-Ghiat, author of Strongmen: Mussolini to the Present, said: “If he gets back into power, he will never leave.” He wants power so he can "shut down all investigations" of his corruption and other crimes.

A response to 'Why vegetarians should be prepared to bend their own rules'

In a short article "Why vegetarians should be prepared to bend their own rules," Alberto Giubilini claims: "If people perceive vegetarianism as a position that allows for no exception, they are probably less likely to become vegetarian. A flexible moral position is more appealing than a rigid one that allows for no exceptions."

The word "probably" raises questions. Can't we find psycho-social data about whether "flexible" positions are indeed more appealing than "rigid" ones overall and also specifically in regards to choosing a personal diet to support animal welfare? The result could also vary based on the relevant knowledge base, cultural context, and personality of the individual being exposed to the new moral idea. Many people appreciate flexibility to support an abstract goal like "reduce the consumer demand placed on the meat industry" which could allow for eating meat in certain circumstances, but others are more attracted to moral commitments that are simple, concrete, and inflexible like "never eat an animal for any reason." Cultural context is important here because it drives assumptions. Some people are more familiar with vegetarianism as a result of religious commitment, family tradition, or poverty, while others know it mainly as a lifestyle choice prompted by modern concerns about environment and health, and still others know it as a more universal, timeless ethical issue. Dietary flexibility isn't clearly always the approach that will be most readily understandable to others. (Exactly what is a "flexible" religious commitment or a "flexible" moral imperative, after all?) Nor is it obvious that dietary flexibility, even if understood, is the diet that is most likely to be imitated.

Giubilini makes a good point that more animals overall may be helped if a larger number of humans reduce their meat intake rather than a smaller number of humans completely eliminating their meat intake. Indeed, if three chickens have their heads on the chopping block, the chickens care not whether they are to be eaten by a single human or three humans. Therefore, convincing three people to eat one fewer chicken each is surely the same (to the chickens) as convincing one person to eat three fewer chickens. On that point, Giubilini has got it right.

However, as there are different kinds of existing vegetarians and they will convert different kinds of new vegetarians, it isn't necessary to make an "either/or" choice about how everyone should eat. Different behaviors and justification will appeal to different people. Some individuals will reduce their own meat consumption and some will completely eliminate it. A "numbers game" of animals spared suffering is quite valid from a consequentialist point of view, but we still need to see those numbers so we can accurately predict the consequences. If I care about this consequentialist approach, then what I need to know is the precise likelihood that my willingness to eat chicken publicly will inspire a greater increase in other people's future vegetarian meal choices than if I had refused to eat it. Saying "probably" doesn't cut it. Data is needed.

A couple further objections:

If non-vegetarians are most inspired to reduce their meat intake when they see a self-identified "vegetarian" eating meat because they perceive that person as "flexible," isn't the logical consequence that all self-identified "vegetarians" will always eat meat when they are being watched? And wouldn't that ultimately result in a large number of animals being eaten?

The assumption that meatless meals should be consumed in secret so that the effort that goes into making them is kept secret, while meat should be consumed in public so that eating meat-free seems easy, needs to be unpacked. Growing or buying food, cooking it, and serving it always requires effort. As long as meatless options are available, they are easier to prepare because they generally require less cooking and refrigeration for food safety. They are sometimes also cheaper. Eating meat publicly is not a demonstration of simple lifestyle or accessible ethics any more than eating meatless food publicly.

Giubilini may have intended to restrict his argument to the scenario in which a self-identified vegetarian is offered meat in someone else's home, but this restriction is not made clear within the article, as the wide-ranging justifications could easily apply to other scenarios.

See also

"Big Meat is lying about sustainability. These media outlets are helping." Can newsrooms really expect people to trust their reporting if they fund it by spreading misinformation? Emily Atkin and Arielle Samuelson, March 6, 2024

You want to reduce the carbon footprint of your food? Focus on what you eat, not whether your food is local: “Eat local” is a common recommendation to reduce the carbon footprint of your diet. How does the impact of what you eat compare to where it's come from?, Hannah Ritchie, Our World in Data, January 24, 2020

Tracking Meat’s Environmental Hoofprint, by Matt Davenport, Stewards Magazine, UMich, Fall 2025

Being morally accountable while being uncertain

George Cunningham wrote that, "if you think about it, most things you know about the universe are really just beliefs justified by a sufficient quantity and quality of evidence." Some beliefs are not even especially well justified, in which case what we have isn't knowledge but merely prejudice. William James: “A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.”

We refer to ourselves as having knowledge, but we can never attain absolute assurance of our correctness, and to pretend that we have done so or to delude ourselves into believing that we have done so leads us astray from our own humanity, which is inherently limited. "Every judgement teeters on the brink of error. To claim absolute knowledge is to become monstrous. Knowledge is an unending adventure at the edge of uncertainty," wrote that author of Dune.

Of course, we have a feeling that we refer to as certainty. People feel more or less certain about all kinds of things. At the extreme of either end of the "certainty spectrum," humans are unable to function successfully. "Psychologists have recently begun to consider," Robert A. Burton wrote in On Being Certain, "the role of pathological certainty and pathological uncertainty as they relate to schizophrenia and OCD [respectively]." That is, a person with schizophrenia might feel certain that the government is spying on them based on no evidence whatsoever, while a person with obsessive compulsive disorder might feel uncertain that the table is really clean even after they have washed it twenty times. So, it's important to our lives that we experience the feeling of certainty in a balanced way.

The feeling of certainty is separate from attaining grounds for assurance of our correctness. Those grounds may be rational, emotive, sensory, or any way in which we normally gain information, but they are not the same as whether we feel certain about what we have learned.

Nikki Stern sees a kind of beauty and power in maintaining uncertainty as it relates to moral judgements:

Moral authority is anathema to thinking, questioning, examining, reasoning, or wondering – the talents with which we humans have been gifted and which we Americans in particular are fortunate to be able to freely employ. The whole notion of moral authority contradicts everything we know about how our brains work, how our consciences should work, and maybe even how our souls might work.

Uncertainty, on the other hand, presents all sorts of possibilities: what about, what if, why not? We could fear uncertainty, but I'd much rather we all accepted it or, better yet, embraced it. After all, what we don't know absolutely is what we can imagine, invent, dream, or dare to hope.

J. B. MacKinnon acknowledges, in a different way, that we can take actions that we believe will produce positive change without necessarily feeling certainty that we are correct. If we are aware that our beliefs have some kind of grounding, then we are accountable to ourselves and can be accountable to others.

When people make lifestyle choices based on their concerns about the environment, they are often seen as – accused of – being "good." That label never sat well with me, though it took me a long time to find a better word. That word is accountable, and I can't define it any more plainly than the French philosopher Paul Ricoeur did: "Those who can account for actions to themselves are 'accountable.'" I prefer accountability to goodness because it embraces the imperfection of change as a process. If I can explain and defend my actions, it doesn't necessarily mean that I believe that my choices are without a doubt the right ones. Accountability is not certainty; it is attempted certainty.

James Hollis says that the process of arriving at this kind of accountability, all the while in the face of uncertainty, is what it means to live the examined life.

Nothing really important will prove simple. Denial and shallowness never prove worthy of what Socrates called "the examined life." The examined life will oblige us to consider that all issues, all issues, have more than one facet to consider, that our capacity for self-delusion is very strong, that we are always at least part of the problem, and that we will ultimately walk right into what we have fled, sooner or later. What is wrong with saying, "I do not know; I do not possess certainty; I think this is a fascinating journey and I am open to discovery?" Why should this simple confession require so much courage?

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Update:

On the topic of listening to the teacher as an authority, there's this quote from the closing of Sacha Lamb's novel:

“It can’t go by the word of Rav,” said Little Ash, slapping the table. “Rav’s word makes no sense at all. The logic doesn’t follow!”

Uriel looked sideways at him as he again slapped the table to emphasize his point. “It has to go by the word of Rav,” it said. “You don’t understand the logic, only.”

It was very pleasant to have such an argument. They fully intended to stay that way forever."

In other words, when you don't know, when you can't know, sometimes you just listen to a teacher, and that's the tiebreaker and is as good as any approach you personally can take in this life.

Sources

George C. Cunningham. Decoding the Language of God: Can a Scientist Really Be a Believer? Prometheus Books, 2009. p. 38.

William James, quoted in the Associated Press, quoted in The Week, April 25, 2014. p. 17.

Frank Herbert, Dune, 1965

Robert A. Burton. On Being Certain: Believing You Are Right Even When You're Not. New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 2008. p. 39.

Nikki Stern. Because I Say So: The Dangerous Appeal of Moral Authority. Bascom Hill Books, 2010. p. 127.

"In an Age of Eco-Uncertainty." J. B. MacKinnon. Reprinted from Explore (May 2010). UTNE Reader, Sept-Oct 2010, p. 71.

James Hollis, Ph.D. Why Good People Do Bad Things: Understanding Our Darker Selves. New York: Gotham Books, 2007. p. 201.

Sacha Lamb. Epilogue to When the Angels Left the Old Country. Levine Querido: 2022.