Various recent readings, and some writings of my own, spurred me to think about the difficulties of changing people’s minds, and changing one’s own mind.
A scathing article in The Atlantic, “A Study in Senate Cowardice,” by Jeffrey Goldberg, subtitled “Republicans like Rob Portman could have ended Donald Trump’s political career. They chose not to,” inspired me to look up an old post in my now-dormant blog Quicksilber. It was July 2008, and Portman was getting attention as a possible running mate for John McCain. I was enthused that the Ohioan had an “impressive resume” and was a “published author” on topics such as Shakers and “China by Kayak.”
My subsequent posts showed shifting perspectives. When Sarah Palin got McCain’s nod the following month, I approved, no longer focused on a policy-heavy resume or wide-ranging writings, instead likening Palin to President Laura Roslin from my then-favorite show, Battlestar Galactica: “An impressive woman with reformist credentials entering high office with limited experience—it sounds pretty familiar to me.” I wrote pro-Palin posts over the next few months, with wishes that the McCain campaign would let her speak at greater length about the issues. After the McCain-Palin ticket lost, I began acknowledging doubts about her, while denouncing her critics for “knee-jerk cultural snobbery.”
During the Obama administration, writing regularly for David Frum’s webzine, initially New Majority, later FrumForum, that sought to reform the Republican Party with “a conservatism that can win again,” I increasingly saw Palin’s populism as wrong for the party. I expressed that view forcefully at Quicksilber in March 2010 after Palin had a nonsensical discussion with Glenn Beck about “taxing the Fed” (the Fed’s profits already go to the Treasury), writing: “It's the sort of thing that makes me not want Palin anywhere near the Oval Office—because I want policymakers to have some clue about policy. It's not because I look down on moose hunters or something. It's because she's not qualified for the job.” As such, I disagreed with Norman Podhoretz, who’d been a formative influence on my youthful conservatism.
The last mentions of Palin on my blog were in October 2016, a few weeks before Donald Trump was elected. I was confident Hillary Clinton would win, and downplayed concerns that a defeated Trump would have a toxic effect on public life, as I expected his influence to fade much as Palin’s had. My blog at this point was tapering off, and I’d ceased to be a Republican when Trump clinched the nomination (I’d be an independent through Trump’s presidency, switching to the Democrats after January 6, 2021).
In retrospect, there was self-delusion in my initial approval of Palin. I’d already indicated the kind of Republican Party I wanted when I hoped for Portman to join the 2008 ticket: policy-oriented, cerebral, moderate. McCain’s choice of Palin was a pivot away from any such party, but I took a long time to see that. Then again, Portman ended up not being who I thought he was either.
As recounted in Goldberg’s Atlantic piece, Portman got angry at an onstage question about whether he regretted not convicting Trump, saying about January 6: “On the night it happened, I took to the Senate floor and gave an impassioned speech about democracy and the need to protect it. So that’s who I am.” Goldberg writes: “Portman showed the people of Ohio who he is five weeks later, on February 13, when he voted to acquit Trump, the man he knew to have fomented a violent, antidemocratic insurrection meant to overturn the results of a fair election.” The article notes that if 10 more Republicans had joined the seven who voted with 50 Democrats, Trump would’ve been convicted, enabling the Senate to bar him from future federal office. Goldberg’s conclusion is, Portman will be lucky to be forgotten.
In examining one’s past biases, it’s important to avoid any delusion that one’s free of bias now. I’ve long been outraged at Trump and Trumpism, and not everything I’ve written along those lines is compelling; for example, my 2020 piece discerning political relevance in the 1963 British film The Servant was inane. Still, I’m nonplussed that what seem to me to be clear dangers of authoritarianism in the Republican Party and a possible second Trump administration are shrugged off by people whom I respect.
Negative partisanship plays into such insouciance. If one dislikes Joe Biden and the Democrats, one can conclude negative aspects about them are worse than “whatever Trump has done,” as blogger Ann Althouse put it, praising Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s suggestion that Biden poses a greater threat to democracy than Trump. I’ve had my issues with Biden, including his disastrous handling of withdrawal from Afghanistan, but nothing that anyone can point to—including overblown claims that social-media policies on anti-vaccine content amount to censorship of political opponents—is comparable to trying to steal an election, for which numerous people are in prison, as Trump should be.
—Follow Kenneth Silber on Threads: @kennethsilber