A culture of cruelty.

In February I wrote a post about “the politics of cruelty” in which I highlighted the mean-spirited commonalities of recently elected rightwing governments in the US, NZ, Italy and other democracies. In this post I shall expand on them with reference to some of the authoritarian features that I researched and wrote about when I was a young academic.

In the 1980s and early 1990s when I wrote about Argentine and South American authoritarianism, I borrowed the phrase “cultura del miedo” (culture of fear) from Juan Corradi, Guillermo O’Donnell, Norberto Lechner and others to characterise the social anomaly that exists in a country ruled by a state terror regime like the “Proceso de Reorganizacion Nacional” in Argentina from 1976 to 1983. In those circumstances individual psycho-pathologies are often rooted in the pervasive feelings of dread, vulnerability and hopelessness brought about by the regime’s use of death squads, disappearances and other violent authoritarian measures to enforce public compliance with their edicts. That pervasive sense of fear extends to collective life, something that was and is a deliberate objective of authoritarians because it produces a sense of survivalist alienation and social atomisation in the body politic, thereby disrupting basic horizontal bonds between and within groups in civil society (you can see one of my essays that uses this concept here: https://www.jstor.org/stable/2111080).

In recent years and especially since Trump’s re-election in the US, Javier Milei’s election in Argentina and the election of the right wing “chaos coalition” in NZ, I see an extension of this concept in what I will call the culture of cruelty. A culture of cruelty is one in which social groups and organisations, including governments, engage in particularly cruel behaviour in order to punish, humiliate and revel in the plight of others, particularly political opponents and scapegoated social out-groups. We only need to think of Trump’s deportation policies and the behaviour of his immigration Gestapo, ICE, to see the culture of cruelty at work. We can see it is the DOGE chainsaw approach to public sector employment and federal regulations. We can see it at MAGA rallies. It is personalised in the behaviour of Trump advisors like Stephen Miller, Karoline Leavitt and Tom Homan, who show utter contempt for the suffering their policies have caused and in fact appear to relish being able to rub in the fact that they can act with apparent impunity due to the weakness of the courts and congressional or partisan complicity. 

In fact, the “culture of impunity” is another characteristic of authoritarianism that I and others wrote about three decades go, and it goes hand-in-hand with the culture of fear because it is the feeling of impunity that leads dictatorships to use wanton repression as an instrument of subjugation of the popular will. In other words, the culture of regime impunity leads to the imposition of a culture of fear in society. That is what is at work, to various degrees, under Trump, Milei, the evil clown circus currently ruling NZ (especially in the ACT and NZ First parties) and in other former liberal democracies today.

This culture is mean-spirited and malicious. In many instances it is fuelled by hatred of “others,” be they immigrants, indigenous people, people of colour or different faiths, those who are sexually “deviant” from “traditional” norms (i.e. non-binary) and others who do not conform to a given set of social mores or expectations or are simply easy scapegoats given public attitudes. It is facilitated by the increased vulgarisation of social discourse and erosion of societal norms regarding behaviour and civic exchange, now megaphoned and accentuated by social media. It is cruelty for cruelty’s sake, and uses cruelty as a punishment, as an intimidation tactic and as a dark reminder of what is possible when one is targeted for any number of perceived transgressions

Cruelty can be physical, mental, emotional, social or any combination of them because its impact is not confined to just one dimension or aspect of human existence. It is “unusual” in that its objective is to cause disproportionate anxiety, anguish, stress and suffering to targeted people and groups beyond whatever duress might (or might not) be warranted under the circumstances. The term “scarred for life” is an accurate depiction of the broader long-term effects that cruelty can have on the human subject. And when it comes to public policy or social exchange among groups, that is exactly what perpetrators hope to achieve via its use: it psychologically traumatises people and groups in the moment as well as their individual and collective memories, something that renders asunder the social fabric into which they were previously woven.

As is the case with torture (which is inherently cruel), social and political cruelty works. Not so much as an instrument to induce cooperation from those otherwise disposed not to give it, but as a disincentive, revenge or retribution tool against them.

I could write more about the subject but this is not the place to do so. However, I hope that the notion is clear. We are now in an era where the culture and politics of cruelty have become integral features of democratic politics in at least some Western societies (I will leave aside for the moment the fear that exists in countries ruled by authoritarian regimes like those in Russia, China or Nicaragua). And if the cultures of impunity that have led to the imposition of these growing cultures of cruelty and fear in Western societies continues unchecked, then another social pathology will follow–the reaping or harvesting of fear (“cosecha del miedo,” in O’Donnell’s words) in the form of a legacy of damaged people and institutions resultant from the practice.

Should that happen, then democracy as a social construct and a method of governance will never be the same.

Uncertainty, Hierarchy and the Dilemma of Democracy.

If nothing else, we have learned that the economic and geopolitical turmoil caused by the Trump tariff see-saw raises a fundamental issue of the human condition that extends beyond trade wars and “the markets.” That issue is uncertainty and its centrality to individual and collective life. It extends further into how human societies are organised, which in turn raises the question as to how political life is constructed. There are some interesting dilemmas involved as are their methods of resolution.

What we fear most in life is uncertainty. Thinks of it along the lines of that old Donald Rumsfeld syllogism. There are the “known knowns:” What we know about we can adjust to and even take advantage of, either via coping or avoidance strategies. There are the “known unknowns:” What we know that we do not know (say, we know that an earthquake or flood will occur but not when it will occur) allows us to develop avoidance or ameliorative strategies via insurance or hedging schemes. Then there are the “unknown unknowns:” things that are real but about which we do not know to the point that we have no coping mechanism for them because they cannot be foreseen or anticipated. This makes us uncertain about how to proceed.

In short, what we know we can prepare for, what we do not know we can prepare for, but what we are uncertain about leaves us in decision-making limbo. In Gramcian terms, certainty allows us agency, or what he called virtu. Uncertainty leaves our destinies to fate, or in his words, fortuna. A basic human objective is to control fate through agency, and that requires some measure of certainty in our lives.

A personal anecdote illustrates my point. At one time in my life I was an avid open-water swimmer and managed to pass on some of that interest to my then teenaged daughter, a versatile athlete in her own right. We swam together in lakes, rivers and oceans whose waters were known to us. We knew currents, water temperatures, the fauna in each, and when and when not go into them. If we knew that there were alligators or sharks about, or large ships or drunken wastrels riding jet skis, we avoided swimming. If we knew that there were no hostile critters or dangerous currents, boaters and other hazards, we swam. But one time, when she got a bit older and was visiting me, I invited her to swim in a bay near my house, one that she had not swum in before. When we got to the beach she hesitated and demurred. That was not like her as she had always been keen to swim. I asked her what the problem was and she said that she did not know what was in the water but knew that sharks were common to that area. She could not be certain, in spite of my assurances, that there were no sharks where we were going to swim, and was therefore reluctant to go in.

I tried to reassure that at that time of day (midday), what sharks might have been there retreated to deeper waters further off-shore, and we could stay within 20 meters of the sand at all times. That did not assuage her. She kept on saying that if she could be certain about what was and was not in the water at that time, she could make a better decision. But since I could not guarantee 100 percent that there would be no sharks at that time, she preferred not to go in. Since she had already demonstrated courage in various ways at younger age, I accepted her reluctance and we found a pool instead. (Truth be told, a few years later a young woman was bitten by a bull shark at that exact beach while swimming at night).

The point is that it was not what she knew or did not know that bothered her. It was the uncertainty that filled the gap between what she knew and did not know that made her pause.

That is exactly why uncertainty is what the markets fear most. Businesses develop strategies based upon what they know and what they attempt to know. But something like Trump throws all forecasts and plans into disarray. The same goes for political risk and diplomacy. In fact, intelligence collection and analysis is, like polling and other predictive instruments, designed to reduce uncertainties and impose a degree of predictability–certainty, by another measure–to the subject in question. Humans spend a major part of their lives, both personally and collectively, trying to overcome uncertainties of a macro- and micro- sort.

Human social organisations reflect this fear of uncertainty in their composition. Almost all social organisations are organised hierarchically. Businesses, sports teams, churches, schools, social clubs, volunteer agencies, interest groups, armed services and law enforcement, other public services, and most of all, the traditional family, are organised vertically rather than horizontally. Some may be more authoritarian than egalitarian in their hierarchies and leadership selection criteria, but all are organised in ways that place decision-making authority at the top, from which directives are passed down. A major reason for that is to promote efficiency in decision-making in order to reduce uncertainties, if not impose some degree of certainty, in the organisational decision-making process as well as its outcomes.

Although many reforms, challenges and modifications of organisational hierarchies in human society have been made, the core of collective life is a hierarchical one. It is hierarchical because that has traditionally been seen as the most effective way of coping with uncertainty in and around social organisations.

That is where a major contradiction emerges. Although most social organisations are hierarchical in organization in an attempt to reduce uncertainty, democracy is not. In fact, authoritarianism–dictatorship by another word–would seem to be the most “natural” or “organic” type of human political society because it aligns neatly with most all other forms of social organization. In fact, not all types of authoritarianism are personalist and some even have methods of collective leadership selection contained within them (think of the CCP in China or the House of Saud). Even non-human primates, while dominated by so-called Alpha Males, rely on the support of females and younger males to ward off challengers to their rule. However, in every instance the politics of the group are hierarchical and authoritarian even if some subordinate input into leadership decision-making is allowed.

In contrast, in democracies uncertainty has been placed at the centre of the leadership selection process. That what we fear most is the linchpin of the electoral process. No matter how much polling, gerry-pandering, vote-rigging, candidate-blocking or other frameworks are introduced in an effort to lend certainty to voting outcomes, at its core elections are about institutionalised uncertainty. But they also have institutional constraints. At pre-set intervals, elections are held and leaderships are openly contested under a veil of voter secrecy. At the moment one votes the outcome is not known. That happens after the voting deadline passes. So elections, while uncertain in any specific instance, are also temporally delimited by institutional frameworks and processes. They may happen at 2, 3, 4 or 6 year intervals or even as special events under certain conditions, but the bottom line is that they occur at regular intervals regardless of the outcomes of previous contests.

There are plenty of caveats and modifications to this general principle, but the principle stands. Democracy is a political system based on institutionalised uncertainty when it comes to leadership selection. The motives for this contradiction of basic human social organization is to keep candidates and parties honest and accountable. Democracy is a system where losers agree to lose in exchange for being allowed to compete again in the future at pre-determined intervals and winners accept that their rule will be challenged at those intervals. This electoral “bargain” (election winners and losers accept outcomes in exchange for being allowed to challenge or defend at given time intervals) lends some certainty to the system itself (rather than the fortunes of those competing within it). Thus the dilemma of democracy as a system based on institutionalised uncertainty is resolved by imposing chronological certainty on the timing of elections.

Obviously enough, this core feature of democracy–the uncertainty inherent in free and open competitive elections–has been seriously undermined by authoritarian-minded politicians like Donald Trump, Viktor Urban and Recap Erdogan,. But their usurpations do not dissolve the fundamental truth that true democracy is founded on electoral uncertainty.

There is another feature of democracy that helps support the idiosyncrasy that is electoral uncertainty. Elections can be considered to be the “procedural” level of democracy because they involve the procedures and processes of leadership selection, but they are underpinned by “substantive” democracy in the form of institutional guarantees of civil rights, due process under the law, government accountability (both horizontal and vertical) and transparency, equality of voice and collective action, provision of minimum health and welfare standards, etc. With regard to civil society, norms and values are promoted that encourage horizontal solidarity, that is, the notion that people are equal as persons and should be treated the way any individual would want to be. Notions of fairness and access to opportunity apply here.

These are the institutional, societal and economic dimensions in which certainty is promoted under the procedural umbrella. Differences in how institutional, societal and economic democracy are pursued are what make the difference between liberal, social, Christian, illiberal and socialist democracies. Uncertainty may rule leadership selection, but limited ranges of institutional certainty when it comes to individual and collective behaviour and rights are offered to the body politic in general.

Because of the guarantees and processes available to the public at the substantive democratic level, people offer what is known as “contingent mass consent” to the democratic form of rule. In exchange for delegating the authority to make public policy decision-making positions to election winners, voters expect that certain material, social and cultural conditions are met. For example, voters expect economic and physical security, affordable access to health care, education and social services, equal rights under the law, and more. In addition, consent is not given once, forever, but is contingent on the delivery of substantive guarantees and expectations being met. Again, the reality is all too often different, but that is how democratic decline or backsliding is measured.

As can now be seen in the US.

In the US the root cause of democratic backsliding may lie at the level of contingent mass consent, not just the authoritarian behaviour of the current president and his minions. In recent decades many people have seen their prospects diminish while the material fortunes of politicians and “one percenters” flourish. Advances in technology, if not the ultimate cause of many of the major social dislocations of the contemporary moment, are certainly compounding them. Alienation and hopelessness have risen in several socio-economic and ethnographic demographics that are further confounded by increases in international mass migration and a the perceived restructuring of traditional value systems in ways that they do not understand. Their sense of uncertainty has grown along with all of the other pathologies now present in modern democratic life, and none of the substantive guarantees offered below the electoral mantle appear to be ameliorating that uncertainty. If fact, for some elections just seem to make things worse. This is not exclusive to the US, although it acts as a weathervane indicator of the syndrome.

Withdrawal of mass contingent consent is also where the move towards authoritarianism may be coming from. Authoritarians guarantee certainty. The certainty of repression, of elite bias, of blaming some “others” for the national malaise. They assure the public that they know what they are doing, that it is in the collective interests that they rule, that they will brook no opposition to their national projects (like “Make America Great Again”), and that they will restore traditional values and lead the people to their rightful and “proper” places in society. They assure the electorate that they are certain of that.

In democratic polities where material and social uncertainty abound in at least some sectors of society, mass contingent consent is withdrawn and the authoritarian option is explored because, for those doing the withdrawing, democracy does not seem to work. The 77 million people who voted for Trump in 2024 may have done so for many reasons, but a main one appears to be profound unhappiness with the political and economic status quo bequeathed by the Biden administration. It is ironic that the US economy was, by most macroeconomic indicators, doing very well on Election Day last November, but that was not enough for those 77 million people. For them voting for Trump represented a way to withdraw mass contingent consent from the US democratic regime as it stood (i.e. The “Swamp” or Beltway “politics as usual”) until such a time as their prospects improved and expectations are met.

Instead, their purported saviour has turned out to be chaos agent who has orchestrated not just a global market meltdown but also has propagated mass uncertainty to levels unseen since the Financial Crisis of the late 2000s and perhaps even the Great Depression. The insidious aspect of this is not confined to the chaos itself and the uncertainty that comes with it, but extends to Trump’s solution set, which is to increasingly use authoritarian devices as a means to combat the uncertainties he himself is magnifying.

This is an important distinction. It is not Trump’s authoritarianism per se that has caused the decline of US democracy, at least at the institutional level. Instead, it is the withdrawal of mass contingent consent to the US democratic system by the voting majority that made it possible for him to steer the country in an increasingly authoritarian direction. But he has two conditions that he must meet if his rule (as outlined in the infamous Project 2025 policy paper) is to succeed. He must diminish uncertainty with his authoritarian practices; and he must satisfy material and social expectations in order to secure and reproduce mass contingent consent to his project.

As things stand neither of those two conditions appear close to being met, so the next round of institutionalised uncertainty in the form of the 2026 midterm Congressional (and state and local) elections will be a true test of the dilemmas confronting US democracy.

The Comparative Notebook on Trump’s Tariffs.

The ever brilliant Kate Nicholls has kindly agreed to allow me to re-publish her substack offering some under-examined backdrop to Trump’s tariff madness. The essay is not meant to be a full scholarly article but instead an insight into the thinking (if that is the correct word) behind the current moment of trade madness. However unpleasant, there is a method to it, and there is a twist to how it may be applied today.

The link is here. It is well worth the read.

The Green’s Identity Bubble Problem.

The scurrilous attacks on Benjamin Doyle, a list Green MP, over his supposed inappropriate behaviour towards children has dominated headlines and social media this past week, led by frothing Rightwing agitators clutching their pearls and fanning the flames of moral panic over pedophiles and and perverts. Winston Peter decided that it would be good to amplify the defamatory claims from his perch as Deputy Prime Minister and Party Leader, relying on rhetorical questions (where is the media?) and innuendo to megaphone the venomous narrative while avoiding legal liability for defamation. The pile-on is despicable.

Besides the obvious partisan basis for the attacks on Doyle and the Green Party co-leaders for defending (in somewhat pedantic and condescending terms) their colleague, the Rightwinger’s alarm about what I will call “the kiss”–a chaste lip-to-lip “smooch” between father and very young son–betrays deep-seated heterosexual repression that is Barry Crump-ish in nature. It avoids the fact that in many cultures men kiss their children on the lips well into pubescence and that men and boys hug and kiss each other and even hold hands in public. I grew up in Argentina, and if one looks at how the World Cup champions celebrate their victories you will see a lot of male kissing and father-child lip-kissing going on and no-one thinks to impute untoward sexual intent to any of it. Not all countries are populated by repressed, insecure, heterosexual misogynistic transphobes.

The attacks on Doyle also could well be linked to the ongoing smears levelled against Golriz Ghahraman, the former Green MP who was convicted for shoplifting after an intense months-long public vilification campaign carried out in and echoed by the media and led by notorious Dirty Politics-adjacent actors. It turns out that Ghahraman’s brief detention in a supermarket earlier this year in what was initially described as another shop-lifing attempt was in fact an orchestrated set-up by malicious security guards with dubious connections to the police and social media personalities. The whole thing was a beat up, as are the Doyle accusations, done in part by the same crowd of Rightwing “usual suspects.” Truth be told, the guys–always guys–who disparage her the most seem to be the type of guys that she is not interested in, especially middle aged to elderly Pakeha male public figures. In summary: they hate her because she will never have them (and who knows how many have tried? Someone should ask Sean Plunkett or David Seymour about that because they carry on about her like spurned suitors).

That having been said, the Greens do have a big problem, and it is not just the non-conformist (some would say “weird” or “odd”) lifestyles of some of their members. It is not about their Morris dancing or their lifestyles per se, but about who they select and the way in which they get into parliament. As my former colleague here at KP Lew and other have written on social media in the past few days, the Greens problem is one of candidate vetting, not candidate lifestyles. In fact, I mentioned this concern previously ( a decade or so ago!) when Haley Holt of television fame was placed on the candidate list in a top ten spot. She did not get elected or make list selection due to the Green Party vote that year, but in retrospect she looks positively middle-of-the-road when compared to some of her recent successors!

As I see it, the Greens spend too much time living in an alternative identity bubble, trying to tick as many rainbow and alternative lifestyle boxes as is possible (Doyle claims to be a “pansexual,” something that can lead to many interpretations and in the case of the Right-wingers, the worst possible ones. He confirmed their worst thoughts by using language with sexual undertones in his private social media posts that included the photos of his son). I have heard that they wanted to add polyamory to their electoral platforms, which even Barry Crump may have found a bit rich if he was not in charge of the action. These are not the types of candidate and policy that appeal to the voting majority, and even under MMP that matters for coalition-building purposes.

To be clear: being “odd,” “weird” or “alternative” is not a crime and should not be treated as such (as happened with Doyle). But having those traits can prove detrimental to the Party’s overall fortunes, especially when opponents seize on them to hype their “deviancy” and other supposed criminal behaviour. In the words of the late French sociologist Robert Michels (in a book titled Political Parties), the first duty of an organization is to protect itself.

After all, being transgressive is not always a virtue in politics, especially in an era where culture wars about alternative lifestyles and non-conformity to “traditional” social norms is a cornerstone of Rightwing political agendas. In such an ideological climate, perhaps it is better to put other (non-identity based) policy concerns before identity (and here I respect the Greens stance on the Israel-Palestine conflict, which from a social justice standpoint is well within their purview even it opens them to charges of anti-Semitism either directly or via association while other parties equivocate and quibble about NZ’s position).

The Greens seem to have moved from being an environmental party with a social-democratic policy agenda under Jeanette Fitzsimmons, Sue Bradford, Keith Locke and Ron Donald to keffiyeh-wearing alternative social justice urbanite identitarians who, from an outside-the-beltway perspective such as mine, occasionally hug a tree, stop a logging truck or swim around like dolphins in sheltered coves before re-assembling at the nearest barista shop for mocha latte soy milk cappuccino-fueled social policy strategy sessions with other black-clad or tie-dyed and multi-pierced plural pronoun individuals who think very highly of themselves and stay up way too late at night, to the point that their countenances are as parlous as their personalities.

I am joking of course, and one hopes that the woke can take a joke on this one. Because this piss-take is not equivalent to the hate-speech supporting sociopaths in the Free Speech Union. The joke is not about letting harm be done to the multiple varieties of identitarians; it is about goofing on their self-absorbed lack of serious purpose and self-awareness, and why this does not make for good candidate and policy selection.

I do so in order to make a point. The Greens were episodically effective when they were watermelons–red on the inside and green on the outside. They were fairly effective as “teals”–blue on the inside and green on the outside. But other than people like Chloe Swarbrick, who is in fact a smart and effective politician, and perhaps Steve Abel as an environmental purist, the Green Party has become a hodgepodge of virtue signalling identitarian grievance and defence. It is increasingly not relatable to anything other than those in their identity bubbles and while individuals like Swarbrick may be able to carry the party on her election coattails, they appear to be enmeshed in a self-inflicted political death spiral due to the character of their caucus. Think of the MPs that the Greens have lost in recent years outside of the electoral cycle and who they have been replaced with. Think of the dramas associated with these departures and the behaviour of some of those still sitting on their benches. With some exceptions, they come across as unserious people pursuing unpopular agendas. No wonder they are seen as easy pickings for bullying political hyenas like Peters and Shane Jones.

Contrast that with Te Pati Maori (TPM). Whatever you want to say about them, TPM clearly know how to vet and select people who conform to their unified policy agenda. Their agenda may seem like a lot of symbolic politics without substance and with some buffoonery thrown in, and there may be some dodgy connections between them and people like John Tamihere and his Waipareira Trust (sort of along the lines of ACT and the tobacco lobby or NZ1st and the fishing and mining lobbies) but two things stand out in contrast to the Greens: 1) the TPM “bubble” is activist and united at its ethnic and ideological core (including a class line), not an disparate assortment of identitarians representing different socially marginalised groups; 2) party discipline is strong. The feet follow the head and the head knows what the feet are doing in the long march ahead.

It will be interesting to see how the Greens do in the next elections. I have a feeling that the gains that they have made in recent years will be reversed even if a Labour-led coalition is elected. I am also curious to see how TPM does, because it seems to be targeting Labour’s left and Maori flanks with its more militant and confrontational appeals. For the moment, however, and again repudiating the reprehensible attacks on Doyle, Ghahraman, Tamatha Paul and Ricardo Mendez-March (the latter for for being foreign-born), the main problem for the Green Party is that it is self-inflicted because of a lack of proper candidate selection criteria and process as well as candidate education as to what is expected of them (including their use of social media and other aspects of their personal behaviour) and how they will be treated by their opponents and media.

Benjamin Doyle haș gone to ground under an apparent barrage of death threats and has suspended the social media account that led to them. But such after-the-fact actions do not remedy what was an avoidable controversy in the first place. All that was needed was some good sense, a modicum of decorum, and a candidate selection process that is based not so much on ticking off identity boxes as it is about electing and/or listing serious people with a common policy agenda that transcends post-modern identity politics while retaining a common social justice focus that is centred in and on environmental politics with a (waged) class orientation.

After all, as the saying goes, politics is the art of the possible. What the Greens have been doing as of late is quite the opposite.