Radically Moderate Friendship: A Tribute to Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Antonin Scalia
Ruth Bader Ginsburg died this past Friday at the age of 87, and her death will no doubt set off a range of immoderate politicking. But that's not what we're here for. We're here to celebrate the Radical Moderation displayed by Ginsburg who -- despite her commitment to a peculiarly politicized career -- refused to let politics dominate her life.
There have been many more in-depth tributes to Ginsberg's legacy than we can provide here, but check out these links if you want more information about her life: SCOTUS statement, NYTimes, Kenn Starr at the Wall Street Journal, an interesting analysis at Politico, David Post at Reason Magazine's law blog) and the BBC, Reason Magazine and the American Conservative on what might be next).
Our focus for today is on her friendship with justice Antonin Scalia, one of the most conservative members of the court and perhaps one of the most influential justices in the 20th century. Much has been written about this friendship between two of the most ideologically different members of the court, including their love of opera, the long friendship between their spouses, and their boisterous debates on the law. (You can read a memorial from Scalia's son here.)
While this friendship is nice and all, what -- if anything -- is Radically Moderate about it?
What RBG and Scalia Can Teach Us About Radically Moderate Politics
In discussing the seemingly unlikely friendship between RBG and Scalia, many commenters have focused on how such friendships might reduce polarization and support compromise. But over a multiple-decades'-long friendship, that's not what happened. Scalia's son rejects this interpretation of his father's friendship with Ginsburg too, recalling the jabs they threw at each other over the years and the biting criticisms of the other's position included in many of their opinions on the court. Neither's position seemed substantially moderated by their deep and longstanding friendship.
Despite this, Ginsburg and Scalia's friendship is a radically moderate phenomenon because it reminds us of a lesson that is, more and more, being lost: politics cannot and should not be the center of our collective lives. In the simplest sense, their friendship is a reminder that -- using the word in a slightly different way -- politics isn't and should not be totalitarian.
In one sense, this is obvious. Everyone hates totalitarianism!
But we don't mean only totalitarian in the sense of total control by government agents. Instead we mean the growing belief that politics is, in fact, everywhere and in everything around us, or putting it another way, the totalization of politics. The belief that the personal is political and that there is no neutrality, no compromise, no quarter, because the stakes are so high. It is now more common for people to marry outside of their religion than it is for them to marry someone of a different political party. Disagreements about politics color and even poison our most intimate relationships.
This, we Radical Moderates believe, is both immoderate and dangerous. Politics is -- at best -- a decision-making procedure. It is not itself justice or goodness or morality, though in a decent political system political decisions should point toward those things. But precisely because humans are complex and diverse and not omniscient, a politics that instantiates pure justice or pure equality would be a very brutal politics indeed, as the history of various ideological revolutions has made clear.
When we totalize politics we give it more power than we should. Not only because politics tends to be polarizing, but because politics is greedy. It will, if we let it, seep and ooze into every part of our lives, convincing us that all human social life is ultimately about power and -- that being the case -- our main tool for fighting against power must be power and force of our own. Sometimes, in the face of great evil, that might be true. But for everyday governance, the idea that politics is everything is exceedingly dangerous.
This belief is also wildly immoderate for a bunch of reasons, not least because it rejects the reality of human reason and the force of persuasion (and it's false!). Instead of being characterized by voluntary cooperation and shared norms, politics becomes a game of force and power. At its worst, viewing all actions as political becomes a justification for violence and brutality.
But even more troubling, a totalized politics rejects the reality of affection, sympathy, and the bonds that tie us together as human beings, as members of communities, as members of families, and as friends of the best kind. Ginsburg and Scalia remembered this and their friendship was based not on political or legal agreement, which -- despite being their actual job -- was a very small part of their overall lives as parents, spouses, friends, art aficionados, world travelers, and opera fans. Legal and political conversation was not the sum total of their lives and they had room for their friendship precisely because they didn't allow politics to ooze where it didn't belong.
Rejecting the totalizing creep of politics is important for our mental health, for our relationships, for true community, and for political discourse itself. If politics becomes everything and everything is about politics, then everyone who disagrees with you truly is an enemy. Reading the news becomes an intellectual sniper fight, rather than an engagement with the world. A totalized politics not only reduces the complicated, multifaceted human beings in front of us to a party line. It also means that no action is above political commentary, justifying politicized interference in people's private lives. If politics is everything then there really is nowhere we can go to escape the forces of power and coercion aimed at every decision we make.
Instead of giving politics so much power, we can leave politics in its appropriate sphere and instead engage directly with the human beings in front of us. Ginsburg quoted Scalia once when asked about their friendship: "I attack ideas. I don't attack people. Some very good people have some very bad ideas." Our tendency to reduce people to mere vessels for their political beliefs is one of the most immoderate things we can do. The deep and abiding friendship of Ginsburg and Scalia shows us another way, one marked by true human affection and a refusal to let politics dominate our lives. May the memory of their friendship be a blessing in an increasingly politicized age.
As always, we like to end our posts with some practical advice for our Radically Moderate readers (or those in training). So here goes:
Don't give politics more control than you need to. Yes, one can care deeply about the political decisions that are made, particularly when political decisions harm other people in irrevocable ways. But we have very little control over politics, particularly at the national level, and allowing the poison of national politics to seep into our personal lives is a recipe for misery, not thoughtful political change. Focus on your community and those immediately in front of you. If you can't watch the news without losing your mind, cut back and volunteer or find some way to directly engage with other human beings in your community. You'll make more of a difference and be less anxious too.
Stay humble. We may think we know why Friend X believes Political Thing B, but really we don't. They may have a long and complicated backstory we don't even know about. They may be mistaken or they may know much more about a policy than we do. Be curious, ask questions, and don't assume the worst.
Recognize complexity and respect diversity. One reason humans value different things is that individual humans lead complex and diverse lives. Go figure! Assuming a rural American is going to or should have identical values to an urban American is both ridiculous and dangerous. Sometimes values really are contextual and we need to give people space to hold the values that fit their lives. And we also need to leave room for error -- both ours and theirs -- because no one gets it right all the time and sometimes we don't even know what the real right thing is.
Assume most people (though of course not all) are operating in good faith. Most people do actually mean well; Very few people vote with the intention to destroy the country. They may be mistaken, of course, but they're probably not all psychopaths out to destroy America. Take a deep breath and assume they're trying to do good, however misguided.
Realize that politics should serve human beings and not the other way around. If our politics is leaving us isolated and angry and anxious, it's possible we need different politics or we need to lessen the power politics has over human lives (more on this later!). But it's a good general reminder that if our politics is making us inhumane it's probably a shitty politics. As Scalia said about his friendship with Ginsburg, "some things are more important than votes." And that's true not just for Supreme Court justices, but for all of us.
What about you? Have you benefited from reducing the power of politics over your life? What tactics have you used to limit the hold of political conflict and take back the nonpolitical parts of your life? Tell us in the comments!