On talking politics
If you and I have lunch together, I would be DELIGHTED to discuss history, science, art, music, architecture, economics, aviation, archaeology, travel, pets, cinema, television, numismatics, literature, sports, ethics, food, genetics, fashion, gardening, weather, family, transportation, agriculture, dreams, computing, language, exercise, dance, or philosophy. The likelihood is vanishingly small, however, that I want to spoil a good plate of sushi, falafel, or vindaloo by hearing your thoughts on Donald Trump, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Zohran Mamdani, Nancy Pelosi, J.D. Vance, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Bernie Sanders, etc., etc. etc. …
When I discuss politics, it is usually done in writing (email or blog comments) …
In contrast, verbal, real-time conversations on politics in 2025 largely consist of angry, puerile TikTok-worthy hot takes, statements of the obvious, well-trodden complaints, mindless partisanship, and ad hominem attacks on all who disagree with the spittle-laced observer. The same is true of micro-form writing, such as text messages or social media posts. It is a story of friendships shattered over hasty, hyper-emotional, pointless political haranguing.
I haven’t had too much of that. But I’m not on social media, and I almost never talk politics in person – much like Graboyes. The people who would shun me have mostly done that already, and as for the rest they’re not inclined to push it.
More:
My least favorite lunchtime political statements, by the way, are the brief, hazy, passive-aggressive, in-and-out, plausibly deniable political eructations. “My kids are doing great, though I worry about their futures, given … what … is … going … on … in … the …country.” Such constructions halt the flow of meaningful conversation, forcing me to stop thinking about your kids and start thinking about your political obsession. But if I say that, you can deny that you said anything political—even though we both know you did. I’d prefer that you just say, “Trump is a fascist,” or “Mamdani is a Jihadist Communist.” Then I can say, “I really don’t want to talk about politics. Have you seen the landscape exhibit from the National Gallery’s Corcoran Collection?”
On that point, I differ.
I suppose for some people that would indeed be a passive-aggressive way to start a political discussion while remaining able to deny that they started one. But I think it often is actually something quite different. It can be a way for a person to say something unifying rather than politically partisan, especially if the person knows that the listener is on the other side politically. The idea behind the statement could be, and sometimes is, that each side feels the country is facing a crisis or several crises, and maybe the sides just differ on how to solve it and whether the current administration is tackling it correctly or not. On occasion I’ve said to friends of mine on the left something like: “One thing we probably agree on is that these are difficult times and a lot of people are worried and upset” – or something of that nature – in order to convey both a reluctance to discuss politics itself and a way to say “we share the fact of being worried.”
Is it effective when I say this? Sometimes – especially when I say it to friends who already know my politics and they know I don’t like to discuss politics in person. I sometimes say it to people I barely know but am talking with in a social situation, when I want to deflect a political conversation by issuing a statement I think is non-controversial and general rather than specific.
Your mileage may differ.
I can relish talking about politics, but it isn’t the deracinated drek of contemporary partisan fervor I’m interested in, but the stuff of human doings found in such as Homer, Torah, Aristophanes, Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, the Gospels, Plutarch, Aurelius, Augustine, Aquinas, Machiavelli, Shakespeare, Bacon, Descartes, Hobbes, Spinoza, Locke, Rousseau, Montesquieu, the Declaration, Madison’s Notes, The Federalist, de Tocqueville, Lincoln and so on. Enough to keep anyone busy for more than a few lunches, I’d reckon. Few takers though.
My NYC cousins are insufferably liberal. One will bring up politics and then shut up when she finds out that not everyone agrees with her. The other will also bring up politics, but it is a waste of my time to discuss politics with him—1)hyperpartisan, 2) more interested in winning instead of getting the facts right (spare the examples), 3) antagonistic, 4) BSer–often shuts up when asked to document his claim.
As a result, when they are in on a cousins’ conference call, they are requested to not bring up politics.
Anyone that would shun or disown me because of something as superficial as politics is doing me a favor. Many of my family members are liberals, some are far, far left liberals. Because of where I was born and have chosen to live (the Northeastern United States) many of the people in my community and my friends are liberals. None of them have abandoned me or let our differences affect our relationship. What we do do is refrain from talking about politics.
Political activism can be a convenient excuse for unleashing hatred while feeling virtuous about doing so. See my post Conformity, Cruelty, and Political Activism
https://chicagoboyz.net/archives/70696.html
Substitute ‘Ackler’ for Bob Graboyes, and that article could have been written by me.
My FB feed is full of liberals/lefties venting their political spleen. What amazes me is how bad & puerile almost all of it is.
I was a liberal for years. I had a subscription to The New Republic from 1982 to 2004. I listened to NPR every day even after I turned to the conservative dark side up until Trump’s election in 11/2016, when they lost their collective minds. I can talk liberal. I can even talk Lefty because I know Marx/Marxism and French Postmodernism fairly well. What I can’t and won’t do is join in on collective vituperation of entire groups of the electorate in terms barely worthy of school yard taunts.
The various groups that make up the electorate have interests. They all have foundational assumptions. Understand what they are and then tell me how a given politician is appealing to them in words other than simple moral judgementalism (e.g. Racism).
And, for God’s sake, if you’ve never read Mussolini/Gentile’s The Doctrine of Fascism, don’t tell me so and so is “Fascist”.
It’s not really a matter of one’s politics, but of one’s temperament. I knew Grayboyes a little, in college. We used to get a beer after class. Back then he was further on the Left. I was already far-Right. But it was never acrimonious. And this was in the 70s – not a time of great across-the-board amity. It’s really a matter of attitude.
Drive by ad hoc non sequitur temper tantrum.
I watched the end of the Mamdani/Trump meeting. Generally there is a show of liking each other this seemed so genuine it surprised me.