Musings on "white fragility"

You may be aware of the notion of "white fragility." I believe it's a potentially valuable way of looking at white racism, especially if we look at how its original proponent defined it. But I also fear that people will use it in counterproductive ways.

White fragility defined

Sociologist Robin DiAngelo coined "white fragility." The term refers to "a state in which even a minimum amount of racial stress becomes intolerable [to white people], triggering a range of defensive moves." Those moves, she adds, "function to reinstate white racial equilibrium." According to DiAngelo, white fragility exists because

[w]hite people in North America live in a social environment that protects and insulates them from race-based stress. This insulated environment of racial protection builds white expectations for racial comfort while at the same time lowering the ability to tolerate racial stress.

The behaviors that mark white fragility "function to reinstate white racial equilibrium." They close off necessary conversations about racist practices and attitudes and about structural racism. [All quotes in this paragraph come from DiAngelo 2011, p. 54.]

Before I go further, I'll note that DiAngelo has published a book recently (in 2018) where she expands on her ideas about "white fragility." I have not read that book, and this blog posts speaks only about her article.

What DiAngelo gets right

Essentially, DiAngelo gets it right. White people in North America are insulated from what she (and most anyone) can call "race-based stress." Or more precisely, as a group, white people in North America tend to be much more insulated than non-whites.

DiAngelo also is very careful in her language. She doesn't say that all "racial stress" is the same. In the article, she focuses specifically on instances where "merely talking about racism" causes the putative racial stress that evokes the white fragility. [DiAngelo 2011, p. 61, emphasis in original] DiAngelo is also careful to focus on function rather than intention. White fragility doesn't necessarily reflect an intent to maintain racial hierarchy. But it's function is to do so. DiAngelo also acknowledges that not all whites are equally fragile or equally insulated from "race-based stress." [See footnote 1 in DiAngelo 2011, p. 55]

Finally, while I'm going to be critical in much of the rest of this post, I acknowledge that "white fragility" describes something that is both real and hard to put into words. I may criticize others' terminology, but sometimes we need a new set of words to describe things that happen but are hard to isolate.

Limitations of DiAngelo's thesis

Solutions are elusive

DiAngelo's thesis identifies a problem but not a solution. That doesn't mean she's wrong. Just because a problem doesn't have an obvious solution doesn't mean it's not a problem. Even so, to note that white fragility exists doesn't tell us what to do about it. It's also not clear to me how white fragility functions to preserve racial hierarchies. DiAngelo seems to agree [DiAngelo 2011, p. 66]:

While anti-racist efforts ultimately seek to transform institutionalized racism, anti-racist education may be most effective by starting at the micro level. The goal is to generate the development of perspectives and skills that enable all people, regardless of racial location, to be active initiators of change.

Workplace seminars have limits

DiAngelo takes her examples of white fragility from workplace racial sensitivity seminars. She formerly, along with others, has had the mostly thankless and unenviable task of leading these seminars, often in environments where the participants are all or mostly white and not disposed to discuss racism.

In one seminar, she notes that

A white man is pounding his fist on the table. His face is red and he is furious. As he pounds he yells, "White people have been discriminated against for 25 years! A white person can't get a job anymore!" I [DiAngelo] look around the room and see 40 employed people, all white. There are no people of color in the workplace." [DiAngelo 2011, p. 54-5]

In a different seminar, DiAngelo recalls that a white participant exhibited symptoms of a heart attack after hearing "sensitive and diplomatic feedback on how some of her [the participant's] statements had impacted several persons of color in the room." This feedback led the white person to become so upset that she begins to exhibit symptoms of a heart attack. [DiAngelo 2011, p. 64-5]

What's insufficiently explored in both these examples is the compulsory context of such seminars. Most workplace seminars of that sort are required by management. The reasons for those seminars may be for the less than laudatory goals of staving off a lawsuit or buttressing the prerogatives of management without addressing concerns about low salaries or onerous supervisors.

Those seminars likely come off as preachy or scolding, no matter how necessary and well-managed they might be. It's not only a "haters are gonna hate" thing. It's also a "workers put in their time and go home" thing. Most of the workers obligated to attend will sit through the seminar and do the exercises. They'll see it as one more thing they have to do on the clock. Some will buy into it. Some won't.

And the two examples from DiAngelo's essay are not equivalent. Take the angry man who pounds the table and makes the ridiculous claim about white people not getting jobs anymore. That's an instance of someone refusing to take responsibility for handling his own feelings. (Even in that case, though, we need always remember that we don't know that man's story.)

In the second example, however, the person has much less choice. Even if she's not really having a heart attack and is having "only" a panic attack, she nevertheless appears to be suffering from real symptoms, such as hyperventilation or heart palpitations. Someone can choose to learn skills that help them remain calm in the face of benign and well-meaning criticism. But that kind of "choice" is a far cry from choosing panic attack symptoms.

Ruti Regan, who blogs about disability rights, brings up a comparable point. In a blog post addressed to people who lead what she calls "social justice workshops," she warns against ordering people to feel safe:

Feeling unsafe isn’t always privilege talking. It’s always a possibility, but it’s never the only possibility. Sometimes, presenters aren’t actually as knowledgable and perceptive as they think they are. Sometimes, presenters get things wrong in ways that make the space unsafe for the most marginalized participants in the room.

[snip]

We have power as teachers and presenters, and it is possible to abuse that power. Even when the people we’re teaching are more privileged than we are in every relevant way, it matters how we treat them. Being privileged in society is not the same thing as being safe in a classroom. We are all capable of making mistakes that hurt people, and when we make those mistakes, it matters.

(Regan might disagree with the overall point I'm making in this post and the uses to which I put her statements. I recommend anyone interested to read her post in full and other posts from her very thoughtful blog to understand where she's coming from.)

"[M]erely talking about racism" is an ideal type

As I note above, DiAngelo limits her discussions of race-based stress to those scenarios where we're "merely talking about racism. As she knows, however, we're very rarely, if ever, "merely" talking about racism. When it comes to racism, talking is never merely talking. As DiAngelo notes in her essay, whites often use racially coded language. They might speak of "good schools" or "good neighborhoods" when they mean "white schools" and "white neighborhoods." Or they might liken anti-racist activists to bullies or worse. They're not, I would say and she would say, "merely talking."

None of that invalidates what DiAngelo is saying. In fact, she would likely counter that whatever the whites in those examples are talking about, it's not "about" racism. Having to go to a seminar may not be "merely" talking. But the resultant racial stress is nothing compared to the types of racial stress people encounter in less controlled environments. Persons of color have to encounter racial stress every day and in modes less safe than a conversation about the nature of those very encounters. White people, too, encounter racial stress that's not merely "conversation" based, even though as a whole, they may encounter encounter it less often or may have more opportunities to limit their exposure.

Good conversations on race are very hard

White persons new to discussions on race may be confused. The format of those discussions may seem to encourage honest self-reflection and revelation. "Honest" reflections, though, may involve "honestly" repeating racial stereotypes, which in turn evokes criticism. Further, if they regret racism in the wrong way, they might be accused of "white tears." If they don't immediately dedicate themselves to fighting racism, they might be accused of denialism. If they do dedicate themselves to fighting racism, but do so in the wrong way or speak too earnestly, they might be accused of "white knighting" or trying to be a "white savior." If they ask for advice, they may be met with "I'm not here to educate you!."


While I believe that those behaviors arise from an understandable "confusion," I don't condemn the criticisms. Persons of color will understandably resent having to listen to white people repeat stereotypes and work out their personal demons. "White tears" and "white knighting," like "white fragility," describe real things. They are false pieties, easy to proclaim and even easier to cast aside once it's convenient to do so. And while I have little sympathy for the activist who assumes a "let me educate you" role and yet insists "I'm not here to educate you" (something which, to be honest, I don't think I've personally encountered), I have a lot of sympathy for non-activists who resent being drafted against their will into giving lessons on racial etiquette and speaking for all similarly situated persons.

Counterproductive uses of "white fragility"

I identify here two counterproductive uses of "white fragility." These are potential uses. I don't mean to say DiAngelo or anyone else necessarily endorses them.

#1: Ad hominem argument

One counterproductive use of "white fragility" is as an ad hominem argument. If a white person raises an objection to what an activist says, and if that activist responds by stating that that white person suffers from "white fragility" without otherwise addressing the objection, that activist is attacking the person, not addressing the objection.If the objection has no merit in the first place, it should be easily refuted. If it has some merit, maybe it is best to acknowledge what merit the objection has. But if the objection is not answered or addressed at all, the objector and everyone else will know it. Paradoxically, these ad hominems do what DiAngelo accuses "white fragility" of doing. They make the discussion about the white person and not about racism.

I do need to concede something. A person, in their frustration, may think to themselves or vent to their friends that another person is expressing "white fragility." While venting isn't always appropriate or useful, it sometimes is. Even when it isn't, it's often understandable. And it's probably exasperating to hear, for the umpteenth time, a white person react as if they're "hurt" by being exposed to the fact of white racism. Again, "white fragility" describes a real thing.

 #2: The might makes right reductio

Another potential counterproductive use--one I believe few if any anti-racists actually intend--is to feed  the notion that only the strong deserve respect.

Part of DiAngelo's argument is that persons of color have to experience a lot more racial stress than white people typically do. As a result, persons of color develop coping mechanisms and something like "emotional callouses" (I think this is my term, not DiAngelo's) that strengthen them for living in a society in which they're repeatedly reminded of where they fall on the racial hierarchy.

I offer no criticism of that as a descriptive argument. I accept that it holds true most of the time. But by implication a normative argument lurks beneath the surface. That normative argument suggests that white people should be criticized for being fragile--not for the choices they make in the face of their fragility, but for the fact of fragility itself. If we take that normative argument to its logical conclusion, it leads us to a point where we criticize others for being weak at all.That's not far from saying only the strong deserve respect.

I say this normative argument comes "by implication" because I don't think DiAngelo or most people who use "white fragility" really intend to endorse it. They would deny it and would do so sincerely. I am suggesting, though, that if they rely too much on the "white fragility" concept, or invoke it too often or in inappropriate circumstances, they risk validating the "might makes right" claims I see as implicit in the concept.

We are all fragile. Every person I have met and have gotten to know has proved in some way weak or vulnerable, has sometimes reacted too emotionally or defensively to thoughtful and apt criticisms, no matter how "diplomatic and sensitive." In that sense, "white fragility" is reminder of something we all have in common.

To say that is not to deny that other people are differently situated. It's not to insist that "therefore, racism affects us all equally." There is an important difference between someone using their fragility to silence others and the fact of fragility itself.

Parting thoughts

To anti-racist activists:

I'm in the cheap seats. I'm much more likely to be a target or passive observer of your activism than I am to take the lead myself. It's easy for me to criticize your tactics and your language for framing those tactics. Yours is a hard job.

I offer this blog post to remind you that your tactics, however necessary and however serviceable to a good cause, have their disadvantages. Those disadvantages don't mean you oughtn't use them. But if people react to those tactics, the reaction is not always, or not only, due to bad faith.

To my white friends:

If you've read this far, you know that I agree with the essentials of what DiAngelo and others are saying. I am convinced that race and racism have been central features of American history and that our society and polity work systematically to empower white persons over persons of color. Speaking for myself, I harbor and choose to indulge some racist attitudes, and I often make racist choices, even sometimes when it would be easy for me to choose otherwise.

You might not be on board. You might take other lessons from history. You might believe other concerns, like economic class, are more pressing. You also may be personally less racist than I am. If I took the time to listen to you, I might learn something or we might find we agree on more than we thought.

And I understand the discussions on race are hard. The people who initiate these discussions, either in formal settings like workplace seminars or in less formal settings, sometimes seem preachy or self-righteous. They often present their points of view in a contrived environment in which the "right" answers are more debatable than the (usually unspoken) rules of the discussion permit. It might feel as if some participants are waiting for you to make a mistake they can pounce on.


And frankly, sometimes the best approach is to grin and bear it, to go through the motions. Most people do that in other circumstances. When I worked customer service, I sometimes had to stand with a smile on my face while an angry customer yelled at me. In other jobs, I've had to sit and listen quietly and politely to supervisors speak in the mode of "we talk, you listen." I've had to stand silent and felt the need to laugh along when I'm around people who make fun of evangelical Christians even though I was raised (partly) in that tradition and find much of those jokes to be based on misinformed stereotypes. I believe it's not always wrong to act similarly in discussions on race, to withdraw politely to avoid saying something that will get you in trouble, make waves, or hurt others' feelings.

I do urge you--and I try to remind myself--to consider three points, though.

Point #1:

You and I are responsible for our actions, and our actions have consequences. If I pound the table and yell, I should expect people to feel defensive. If I "go through the motions" by staring stony faced at a speaker with my arms crossed, I should expect people to assume that I'm hostile and I just don't get it.

Point #2:

Remember that others go through the motions, too. In fact, they may be so good at it that you're misled each time. Every time something is said about "good neighborhoods" or "good schools" when what is (probably) meant is "white neighborhoods" or "white schools," someone may feel uncomfortable or may silently object. But that person may very well choose to go along to get along. Maybe their objection isn't that strong. Maybe they even see where the speaker is coming from. But maybe they just don't want to get into it or be "that guy" or "that gal."

In other words, what you're doing is what other people choose to do all the time. That's one of the reasons going through the motions isn't always wrong. But it's also one of the reasons that you and I aren't not particularly special. As the poet said, you also are laid aside.

Point #3:

These discussions on race might sting a little, but they rarely produce lasting harm. When someone points out ways in which what I do is hurtful to them, I'll feel a little defensive. But at the end of the day I'll survive the experience.

The people who initiate and lead these discussions and the persons of color who share their stories are almost always acting in good faith. Even when someone seems to be more on a power trip than anything else, that person is still usually raising concerns others sincerely have. These are real concerns, and they don't become fake just because someone else may be a jerk or because we see the situation differently.

Because you're human, you know what it's like to have something to say and no one listen to you. You know what it's like to feel something deeply and yet have only imperfect words to express that feeling. You're not the only one who has felt that way. If you choose to listen to others, you may find yourself becoming less resentful. You may eventually find others extending the same courtesy and listening to you. You may find it easier to interact with others. You may be happier.

I can't guarantee any of that will happen. Some of it probably won't. And again, I personally believe it's at least sometimes okay to withdraw from these discussions and grin and bear it. But few things come with guarantees and in the meantime it helps to consider taking risks for understanding.

Works consulted

DiAngelo, Robin. 2006. "My Class Didn't Trump My Race: Using Oppression to Face Privilege." Multicultural Perspectives, v. 8, n. 3: 51-56.

DiAngelo, Robin. 2011. "White Fragility." International Journal of Critical Pedagogy, v. 3, n. 3: 55-70

Tragedies of anti-Trumpism: Extra-clinical and public mental health diagnoses

Statement of the problem

I have been critical of others' decisions to issue extra-clinical and public diagnoses of Mr. Trump's mental health. (See asterisked* footnote below about my word choice here.) While it seems almost everyone (who opposes Trump) does it, I have reserved much of my criticism for mental health professionals who do so. (See, for example, this post, cross-posted with Hit Coffee. Be sure to read this comment on Hit Coffee from Dr. X, who disagrees with what was then my argument.)

I have since come around, albeit grudgingly, to admitting that mental health professionals are not violating professional ethics when they make well-considered statements about Mr. Trump's, or any other public figure's, mental health. I still believe that these professionals, even those for whom I have a lot of respect, too often fail to parse what they know from observing Mr. Trump and what they can't know without further knowledge to which they don't have access. They also seem to flounder when it comes to distinguishing between their views as citizens and their views as professionals. Or, if they believe the roles of "citizen" and "professional" are so entwined as to be inseparable, they tend not to acknowledge the problems inherent in mixing professional opinions and political opinions. Finally, I suspect the claims that mental health professionals "can't" offer such opinions to be greatly exaggerated.

With that out of the way, though, I'll stipulate for the sake of this blog post that such public discussion and diagnosis of Mr. Trump's mental health are necessary. I'll also stipulate that mental health professionals participate in these discussions as responsibly as we can expect in a free society when an important matter of public controversy is at hand.

Tragedies of extra-clinical and public diagnoses

With those stipulations, I find "tragedies" from the extra-clinical, public diagnoses:

Extra-clinical, public diagnoses stigmatize mental health problems

No matter how much mental health professionals say that identifying dangerous tendencies is not the same as saying all, or even most people with mental health problems, members of the public will likely infer that from those professionals' public pronouncements. That's on the members of the public for not heeding what is said. But it's a predictable result nonetheless.

Extra-clinical, public diagnoses creates a backlash

Trump supporters, or even people who purport to oppose Trump but who question the tenor of some of the opposition, will respond negatively to these diagnoses. These diagnoses will help solidify some persons' support or temper some persons' opposition.

Extra-clinical, public diagnoses create a dangerous precedent

There's always going to be some mental health professionals, or at least people with the appropriate credentials, who will offer an assessment of a politician's mental health. And there will always be at least superficial evidence to support that assessment. That doesn't mean every situation is equivalent. Sometimes people are peculiarly unfit for their position and that unfitness needs to be assessed and acted on. But offering public, extra-clinical diagnoses in the one instance makes it marginally easier for others to do so later.

Send off

I've said a lot about professionalism. As a layperson in this area, I realize I'm speaking out of turn. A professional, speaking as a professional, needs to conform to the rules of that profession or at least note when they depart from those rules. As someone trained in U.S. history, for example, I must state in good and honest conscience that the Civil War was primarily a war over slavery and that the South seceded from the North primarily to protect slavery, even though my saying so might anger a good number of people who in other circumstances and on other issues I might wish to count as friends. (Why I'd want to count them as friends is perhaps a different question. But just suffice it to say that we all have friends and family who we love but cannot agree with everything they believe in.) That's burden of professionalism, and I recognize that members of other professions share like burdens.

I also wish to remind readers that I'm speaking of what I think are almost inevitable outcomes, of outcomes that are part of the expected costs people pay for doing what they believe is the right thing. Those costs, or "tragedies," as I call them, are there whether or not it's necessary to incur them. I'm less convinced than some mental health professionals that declaiming against Mr. Trump's mental fitness is as necessary as they seem to believe. But even if it is necessary--and even though it's unfair to all those mental health professionals who make public, extra-clinical diagnoses out of a sense of duty and with the fullness of caution their ethics require--those costs will nonetheless be exacted.

See introduction and table of contents for this series

*Footnote about word choice

By "extra-clinical diagnoses," I mean diagnoses offered without the benefit of the typical face-to-face evaluations mental health professionals usually engage in before making diagnoses. I also mean diagnoses offered without the follow up information gathering that may lead a mental health professional to revise (or confirm) their diagnoses. Finally, I mean "diagnoses" that venture to state what can't be known. It's one thing, for example, to say that Mr. Trump "probably won't change" or will "find it very difficult to change" or even, "on the basis of everything I've seen so far, and acknowledging that there's a lot I can't know from my vantage point, Mr. Trump can't change." It's another thing to say simply that "he can't change." I'm just a layperson, but I find it hard to believe that responsible mental health professionals say a person "can't" change without ever having had a chance to evaluate and work with that person for a time. I might be overly exacting in my demands on others' word choices. But professionals who purport to speak as professionals should be exacting in their word choices.

By "public," I mean information and evaluations offered about the mental health, or personality constellation, of a person that a mental health professional would not be permitted to offer without that person's consent if that person were a client. I suppose there's a gray area here, where a mental health professional may sometimes be permitted or even required to alert the public about a client who, for example, may hurt themselves or others.

By "mental health," I mean not only the distinction between "healthy" and "unhealthy" mental states, such as is indicated by finding a given person suffers from OCD, bipolar disorder, or psychosis. I also mean comments about "personality constellation" or other attributes that don't fit as easily onto a spectrum of what is mental health and what is mental illness.

UPDATE 3/8/2019: I've fixed a few broken links.

Tragedies of anti-Trumpism: The Russian investigation

The investigation

Most are aware of the charges that Russia may have somehow tried to influence the 2016 presidential election and that Russian interests have a disproportionate influence in the operations of the Trump administration. One claim is that a Russian agency, the Internet Research Association, somehow manipulated social media to target certain groups of people in the United States to influence their vote with "fake news." Another claim is that high-level operatives, like former National Security Advisory Michael Flynn, was somehow in the pay of Russian operatives from other countries. A third claim is that Trump is deeper in cahoots with the Russians, receiving difficult to trace contributions from Russia in exchange for Trump advancing Russian interests. As I understand it, Russia isn't the only foreign power alleged to exert undue influence, but the news I've seen focuses on "Russia" and Putin.

In light of these charges, part of the investigation into Trump has to do with his, his administration's, and his campaign's dealings with Russian and other foreign operatives. The questions behind this investigation seems to be what did they know, when did they know it, and how might they be compromising national security because of it?

This investigation needs to be done, and if it uncovers illegal actions, those actions must be prosecuted. Even if what it uncovers is not illegal, it may uncover questionable dealings that should call into question the competence and good faith of the Trump administration.

Three tragic consequences

But however necessary the investigation is,  into Trump's dealings with Russia may do, I see three potentially unfortunate consequences. unfortunate, potential consequences. First, the investigation feeds into a narrative of knee-jerk anti-Russianism and hyper-American nationalism and all the unsavory historical associations that come with that narrative. Second, the investigation glamorizes Putin.

Un-reflective attacks on free speech

One concern the Russian investigation has brought out is that "fake news" bombards social media and manipulates people to vote a certain way or not to vote at all. One possible reaction to "fake news" is advocacy for more gate keeping in the distribution of information. I fear that gate keeping can be unduly strict and may limit what can be said.

It all depends on what kind of gate keeping we're talking about. The fewer and more centralized the gate keepers--and the more formal and rigid the gate keeping process--the more danger. The more diffuse the gate keepers and the more access we have to alternative, non-gate-kept information, the better. To be clear, I haven't yet seen any serious proposal that might raise concerns. The only proposal I've actually seen (and at secondhand, so I don't have a link) is combat trollery on social media so as to provide more transparency about who is providing what information and in whose interests that information is being provided.

Another red scare?

The investigation revives our periodic obsessions with Russia and with anyone who may plausibly be smeared as "pro-Russian." That isn't too different from our other periodic obsessions, such as the war on terror or the anti-Japanese sentiment in the 1980s. But I'd just like to point that we've seen this movie before. The sides seem to have changed a bit. Those who say "but there really is a danger" tend now to be more on the left. Those who say "this is hysteria" or "this is a nothingburger" are probably more on the right. (Here I'm using commonsense, and therefore overbroad and vague, definitions of "the left" and "the right.")

That the sides have switched doesn't mean there's no danger. I should be wary of reasoning by analogy or assuming that because two situations have one thing in common, they have other things in common. But the similarity to other campaigns about "foreign intervention" should give at least a moment's pause. Will the allegations of "pro-Russianism" go overboard and start to ruin lives? Will anyone who raises the possibility that Russia isn't as great of a danger eventually be branded as "traitors"?

Probably not. I said the similarity to concerns the US has seen about foreign intervention should give us "a moment's pause." But I wouldn't say it should give us two moments' pause.

The greater glory of Putin

The investigation serves Putin's interests. Or rather, Putin will find it easy to spin the investigation in a way that buffs up his domestic standing. Maybe Putin is a danger to the US and maybe what Trump and his friends have been doing really does compromise national security or at least signals corruption. But every revelation of how Russia engineered a "fake news" campaign or somehow influenced the 2016 election likely plays into Putin's hands. Maybe Russian experts can tell me where I'm wrong, but I strongly suspect Putin gets a lot of leverage, in the form of bragging rights, by portraying himself as the guy who messed with the American elections.

That perhaps is the most "inevitable" of the tragedies from the Russian investigation. It's obviously (to me) something that needs investigating and it's impossible to investigate in a way that won't redound to Putin's interests.

Conclusion

My warnings about the potential attack on free speech and the next "red scare" are slippery slope arguments. My warning about how Putin may shape the investigation to his own interests is, if not trivial, perhaps to be expected and not particularly in anyone's control. But I believe there's no harm in keeping these concerns in mind.

See introduction and table of contents for this series

Tragedies of anti-Trumpism: Introduction

I write this post to introduce a new series that I call "the tragedies of anti-Trumpism."By Trumpism, I mean the facile appeal to bigotry and to authoritarianism that Trump--but not only Trump--represents. By "anti-Trumpism," I mean opposition to Trumpism.

Yet any serious effort to combat Trump and Trumpism entails, almost necessarily, certain costs to anti-Trumpists' own integrity and to those in whose name they pursue their activism. These costs are "tragic," not because they are too high to justify opposing Trumpism, but because opposing Trumpism almost necessarily exacts these costs.

I mostly join those who say we must remove Trump from office by any legal means necessary and that we must combat Trumpism. I say I "mostly join" and not "completely join" because I'm not convinced that just because a means is legal it is therefore the right thing to do. But that's a conversation for another day. And I certainly am not endorsing illegal means.

I'm aware I'm doing what is sometimes called "anti-anti-Trumpism." That term refers to those who oppose (or at least don't support) Trump but who are bothered by the way others oppose him. I'm aware of the allegation that this "anti-anti-Trumpism" is a bad thing, akin to support for Trump and what he stands for by way of nitpicking and finding fault with any and all criticisms but not actually doing or saying anything meaningful to call Trump and Trumpism to account.

In light of that allegation, I must concede several points:

• My series of blog posts will be a species of anti-anti-Trumpism.
• On some level I am indeed offering something like support for Trumpism inasmuch as Trump's supporters take refuge in criticizing his opponents.
• Other than penning a few criticisms of Trump (an exercise that, like talk, is cheap) and other than voting for Hillary Clinton, I have done nothing substantive to oppose Trump.
• I have less to fear from Trumpism than others who are more marginalized than I am and therefore it's easy for me to criticize those who have more to fear and more to lose.
• I feel a certain amount of personal defensiveness when I hear people criticize Trump, Trumpism, or Trump supporters. That defensiveness has more to do with my own pride and perhaps baser inclinations.

At the same time, I find it inadvisable to remain silent. Whatever incidental support for Trump or Trumpism my series offers,* I believe that even anti-Trumpists can benefit from reflecting on the costs to themselves and to others that result from their activism. At the very least, I believe it's preferable for activists of any stripe to go into their activism with eyes wider open.

Table of contents for the series

• Link to series tag
• Introduction
• The Russian investigation  
• Extra-clinical and public diagnoses

*Let's face it, my blog doesn't exactly have a wide readership. I've thought of posting this series, or parts of it, over at Ordinary Times, but for now I am not doing so. In part that's because I'm not prepared to deal with the (in my opinion, mostly legitimate) pushback I'd receive.

Attributes of the APA's "gag order"

In her introduction to The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump: 27 Psychiatrists and Mental Health Experts Assess a President (2017), Bandy X. Lee briefly discusses the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) recent reassertion of what is known as the Goldwater Rule. According to the APA, the Goldwater Rule states that

On occasion psychiatrists are asked for an opinion about an individual who is in the light of public attention or who has disclosed information about himself/herself through public media. In such circumstances, a psychiatrist may share with the public his or her expertise about psychiatric issues in general. However, it is unethical for a psychiatrist to offer a professional opinion unless he or she has conducted an examination and has been granted proper authorization for such a statement.

Lee argues that when the APA reaffirmed that rule in March 2017, it "essentially placed a gag order on all psychiatrists and by extension all mental health professionals." [p. 11 of Kindle edition]

She goes on to explore some of the good and bad of the rule. She then makes an argument for a countervailing rule. That argument deserves more attention than I'll give it in this blog post, but I want to admit that while I choose now to focus right on her "gag order" language, I'm neglecting the meat of what she's really arguing.

In what ways is the APA's rule actually a "gag order" and in what ways is it just hyperbole?

Gabriel's recent blog posts elsewhere

Here are some posts I've written recently. Feel free to comment here or there if you have something to add. As always, thanks for reading my blog.

Tenure reviewed: A review of Michael Berube and Jennifer Ruth. The Humanities, Higher Education, & Academic Freedom: Three Necessary Arguments. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015.

A case for the conscience exemption: I propose permitting an opt-out "conscience exemption" for union shop agreements, particularly for public-sector unions.

Professional opinions

[This is cross-posted with Hitcoffee here.]

Walking back

It's presumptuous to criticize members of a profession for acting "unprofessionally," especially true when I have not acquainted myself with the specific norms of that profession. I did that when I said recently that some mental health professionals "are acting unprofessionally and to a certain extent dangerously in their public diagnoses" of Mr. Trump. Part of what I meant was that mental health professionals ought not to comment publicly on a public official's mental health.


I no longer believe that. Dr. X--both in his comments here at Hit Coffee [for example] and in some posts at his own blog [here and here]--has convinced me that it's sometimes appropriate for mental health professionals to make such public commentary and that whether or not it's "professional" is more arguable than I allowed.

Cautions are still in order

I still urge caution when it comes to public diagnoses, but before I proceed, I'll note a few terms I am probably using wrong, or at least too globally. "Mental health" and "diagnoses" here in this post are catchalls and may not necessarily encompass what public commentary on public officials is really about. "Mental health professional" is a broad term, too. It can include MD's, PsyD's, PHD's, LCSW's, and probably others--the key point is that I'm referring to people who are licensed or otherwise credentialed to counsel others or to people who study mental health academically. While my use of these terms is sloppy, I ask your indulgence. Now, on to the cautions...

Caution #1: "can't" is a sliding scale

It's important not to confuse the general sense and professional norm that such commentary is "improper" with a strict prohibition against such public commentary. I understand the Goldwater rule is somehow encoded into the American Psychology Association's code of ethics. I suspect, however, a mental health professional who offers public diagnoses does not usually risk being hauled before an ethics board or otherwise sanctioned in the same way he or she might by, say, inappropriately breaking confidentiality.


Anti-caution: We should presume that professionals take the established norms of their profession seriously. Even if they disagree with the norms and seek to revise or ask others to reconsider them, we should presume the professionals feel in some way answerable to those norms or at least believe the norms something that merit discussion and are not to be lightly disregarded. Even without a strong enforcement mechanism, these injunctions still act in some ways as a prohibition.

Caution #2: There is never enough information

I submit that any public diagnosis has to be upfront about what is not known and ought to be open to the concern that the diagnosis might be too hasty. In the meta-sense we just cannot see into other people's minds. In the non-meta-sense, there's always something we don't know about others' history or actions or influences.


Anti-caution: Thus is it always and everywhere. No matter how much is known there are always unknowns. And yet, we have to come to conclusions and mental health professionals are no different. I am informed that in at least some cases, the mental health professional can diagnose an individual in a matter of minutes. I am also informed that in other cases, mental health professionals may be called upon to create psychological profiles of others whom they have never met (say, psychological profiles of employees or profiles of foreign leaders for state intelligence). And regardless of these examples, some persons' actions do demonstrate what they are likely to do in the future, and if a mental health professional can yield discipline-specific insights into those actions that a layperson cannot offer, then that's probably okay.

Caution #3: my corollary to the McArdle rule

Megan McArdle often says that just because there's a problem doesn't necessarily mean there's a solution to the problem. My corollary is that just because a public diagnosis is correct doesn't mean it tells us what to do with the person so diagnosed. (I'll add here that a good model is Dr. X. He may offer opinions grounded in his area of expertise, but when he discusses policy solutions he takes care to distinguish what his expertise can and cannot tell us.)


Anti-caution: My corollary doesn't mean such public diagnoses are worthless. A diagnosis might very well and very rightly warn us, for example, against false assurances that someone will "pivot."

Caution #4: there will be blowback and it will be unfair

In one of my posts, I referred briefly to objections that Rabbi Michael Lerner of Tikkun magazine has about public diagnoses. I don't agree with everything he says there, and I agree with less of it now that I've heard Dr. X's counterpoints. Still, the following objection from Mr. Lerner rings true to me:

I believe that making these kind of diagnoses without the benefit of having a carefully constructed private relationship with the public political personality being analyzed leads many of the tens of millions of supporters of the political character who has been labeled in this way to believe that implicitly they too are being judged and dissed. This plays into a central problem facing us in the liberal and progressive world....When we use the kind of psychiatric labeling suggested by those who insist that Trump is a clinical narcissist, that is heard by many who support him as just a continuation of the way the liberal and progressive forces continually dismiss everyone who is not already on our side as being racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamophobic, anti- Semitic, or stupid. This makes many of these people feel terrible, intensifies their self-blaming, but then often generates huge amounts of anger at those who have made those judgments without ever actually knowing the lives and details of the people that are thus being dissed. And this contributes to the ability of right-wing demagogues like Trump (not a psychiatric term, but a political judgment) to win support by telling a deep truth to many Americans: “many on the Left know nothing about your lives, but they have contempt for you, think that if you are white or if you are a male you are specially privileged and should spend your energies learning how to renounce your privilege.”....

First, I should say my quotation is deceptive. The ellipses elide quite a bit. If you go back to read Lerner's comment in full (I'm quoting from his point no. 4, but I recommend reading all his points), you'll see his argument is not merely pragmatic, but enmeshed in a broader, ideological critique of the faults he finds with capitalism and meritocracy. I don't necessarily share that broader critique and if I hadn't elided those points, the quote would have been not only longer, but would have seemed more contestable as well.


Second, what Lerner seems to me to be saying (in part) is that however accurate a public diagnosis, it might elicit a stronger reaction and in the process do little good. His point is at least partially about prudence. We live in the world, and the world is going to react. It's not fair, but that's what will happen. Anti-caution: We out not overlearn that lesson and make an idol of prudence. If someone speaks the truth, that is a value unto itself. The truth is an end. If that truth is commanded or informed by one's professional memberships and professional training, then sometimes (maybe always?) it must be uttered and pursued, regardless of prudential considerations. And as Mike Schilling Over There has reminded me, the principal bearers of blame are those who don't acknowledge the truth and those who create or pursue or gainsay the lies.

If you're right, you're right

I'll probably never be comfortable with public diagnoses. But that said--and in contrast to a point I made very recently--those public diagnoses of Mr. Trump that I've seen seem to be correct. Even if they're not correct, they're correct enough. Mr. Trump's actions have shown him to be a dangerous, petty man. So I'll end where I began above. I retract my blanket statement that mental health professionals ought never issue public diagnoses of public figures.