When I agreed to review George Lakoff’s new book Whose Freedom?, there were
many things I didn’t know. I didn’t know that Steven Pinker would review it
in The New Republic. I didn’t know that Lakoff would write an angry rebuttal
to the review, or that a nasty
exchange laced with ad hominem attacks
would ensue. I didn’t know that the debate would get
extensive coverage in the
science blogosphere.
But as I read the book, I watched with interest as the online discussion about it escalated into a frenzied uproar. Meanwhile, the midterm elections were also coming to a head–compared to the din surrounding Lakoff’s book, the election rhetoric itself was actually rather dull.
Sure, the Republicans tried to paint Kerry into a corner by disingenuously suggesting that his joke about getting “stuck in Iraq” was a jab at the intelligence level of the U.S. armed forces. But Kerry wasn’t running for reelection, and Democrats quickly realized that the best way to win this battle was not to engage the enemy at all. The anti-Kerry gambit was a deception, a tactical maneuver designed to reshift the focus of the election away from Republican bumbling, and the Democrats read it correctly.
The Pinker-Lakoff debate, by contrast, only seemed to grow more sour with age. Pinker called Lakoff’s book a “train wreck,” and Lakoff retorted that Pinker was either ignorant or willfully deceptive. The heated rhetoric was not restricted to the two principals either: one of many jumping into the fray, “Chris” of the CogSci blog Mixing Memory, chimed in with “Lakoff’s reply is one of the most intellectually dishonest pieces of writing I’ve seen from a cognitive scientist,” and “reading Lakoff is making me feel dirty.”
As I pondered my Whose Freedom? book review, I began to feel more like a child’s nanny than a critic. And indeed, like a truly diplomatic nanny, I also realized that coming down on one side or the other of this debate would be counterproductive. Pinker and Lakoff are both “big idea” cognitive scientists; they want to come up with an explanation not for a discrete cognitive function (like how we remember words or understand facial expressions) but for all of human cognition, all at once. Then they want to apply that explanation to an entirely different field: political science. If it wasn’t so preposterous, it would be appealing only for its audacity. If I really was their nanny, I’d give them both a time-out.
The problem with Lakoff’s book isn’t just its misapplication of cognitive science, it’s also its narrow understanding of fields as diverse as politics and religion. The problem with Pinker’s review is almost the same.
Lakoff’s ostensible goal in Whose Freedom? is to show how Republicans have hijacked the term “freedom” and show Democrats how to take it back. It’s an appealing notion: When Bush claims that the War on Terror is about preserving American freedom, he’s simply lying. The concept of freedom has absolutely nothing to do with terrorism. To the extent that we’re fighting terrorists, we’re looking to restrict freedoms, not protect them.
But when it comes time to apply cognitive science to this argument, Pinker is persuasive: The forcefulness with which Lakoff rallies “cognitive science” in support of his position is unmerited. Lakoff’s claims that frames (schemas for considering a problem) and metaphors are the foundation for all rational thought certainly aren’t supported by the evidence he presents in Whose Freedom?, and his two attempted rebuttals of Pinker’s reviews don’t do the job either.
If Lakoff’s cog scibased explanation of how the Republicans spun their way into power is this unconvincing, then one can likewise doubt his claims about how to combat the conservative agenda. That said, Pinker’s criticism of Lakoff isn’t much better:
But Lakoff’s advice doesn’t pass the giggle test. One can imagine the howls of ridicule if a politician took Lakoff’s Orwellian advice to rebrand taxes as “membership fees.” Surely no one has to hear the metaphor ‘tax relief’ to think of taxes as an affliction; that sentiment has been around as long as taxes have been around.
Perhaps I’m missing something, but I’ve been unable to find the passage Pinker refers to in Whose Freedom? (and an Amazon Search Inside backs me up). Lakoff does argue that Democrats shouldn’t adopt Republican branding of the Bush tax cuts as “tax relief,” but he doesn’t suggest calling for “membership fees.” And Lakoff is right about the inherent dishonesty in calling tax cuts that disproportionately impact the wealthiest Americans “tax relief” for all. If Pinker truly believes that rebranding unappealing political actions “doesn’t pass the giggle test,” then perhaps he should look up Bush’s “Clear Skies” initiative, which removed pollution controls, or even the boondoggle that was once the “No Child Left Behind” act. If rebranding didn’t work, politicians wouldn’t use it, and even if Lakoff’s (alleged) specific suggestion might not be optimal, there are plenty of other ways to characterize removing tax cuts that, as Lakoff advises, don’t invoke the Republican theme of “tax relief.” Two examples that presumably would pass Pinker’s giggle-test: “fiscal responsibility” or “balancing the budget.”
The fact of the matter is that even if Lakoff overreaches with his science, he does have a point. Republicans have controlled the political discourse in this country for the last 12 years, and arguably the last 26, and if Democrats are to win they need to figure out how to wrest control back. Unfortunately, this thesis is better supported in other works, such as Jimmy Carter’s Our Endangered Values. That book is much more convincing in its explication of the beliefs of the Christian Right largely because it comes from the perspective of an evangelical Christian. Although some might find Carter’s evangelism not much easier to fathom than that of Christian Conservatives, the book helps us gain some insight into their motivations.
But Lakoff’s artifice about metaphors and frames doesn’t help move this discussion forward, and claiming that “cognitive science” can show politicians how to win elections is just as dishonest as calling a tax on a multimillion-dollar inheritance a “death tax.” Scientists have a hard enough time just figuring out how we remember individual words; explaining beyond a doubt what political arguments will be persuasive is simply beyond cog-sci’s reach.
Of course, cognitive scientists like Lakoff are rightly interested in understanding whether we can identify frames that characterize partisan thought,
but the best way to approach this problem isn’t through a polemic such as Whose Freedom?–it’s through scientific research. “Chris,” the blogger
from Mixing Memory, is beginning work on one
such
study, a comprehensive survey that will be distributed to both partisan conservatives and liberals. But even such a study won’t tell the Democrats much about how to pursue the 2008 presidential campaign.
Almost lost in all the hullabaloo about Whose Freedom? is Lakoff’s lengthy cataloging and characterization of conservative and progressive versions of “freedom,” which encompasses most of the book’s text. For the most part, this discussion is rather dull, and it doesn’t offer a tremendous amount of insight into conservatives or liberals. A more concise Lakoff would simply say that Bush’s “freedom” is really “capitalism,” while Lakoff’s is “socialism.” Again, other books, such as Chris Mooney’s Republican War on Science, are much more effective in describing the differences between conservatives and progressives. Pinker sees fit to criticize this section of the book as well, but clearly here Pinker is merely expressing his personal political preference. For example, Pinker argues that Lakoff’s work neglects to acknowledge “the impending failure of social insurance programs that ignore demographic arithmetic,” as if the Republican plan for “saving” Social Security is any better. For two esteemed cognitive scientists, the debate has devolved into so much hot air.
Of course, one way to test the efficacy of Lakoff’s advice is to look at the ballot box. In 2006 Democrats won about as decisively as could be hoped for. Does this signal triumph for Lakoff’s politico-rhetorical agenda? To the extent that Democrats refused to engage Republicans on their own terms, I suppose Lakoff could claim a small victory. But rhetoric actually played a minor role in this year’s election. Instead, the sweep of real world events dominated the scene: scandals in Congress and a brutal, protracted war in Iraq. Republicans were so busy backpedaling that they had little opportunity to take their usual aggressive approach. With illicit (and more importantly to their base, gay) behavior in their own party and in key churches, it was hard to characterize the Democrats as the party of immorality. With the Republican war burning through hundreds of billions every year, claiming the Democrats were the real tax-and-spenders rang hollow. Democratic rhetoric–and Lakoff’s book–weren’t needed at all.
In the end, Whose Freedom? is an intensely dissatisfying book. Most of the text attempts an encyclopedic catalog of liberal and conservative versions of “freedom,” but the catalog isn’t exhaustive enough to be useful, and instead comes off as merely exhausting. Lakoff’s attempts to connect his catalog to cognitive science are both woefully incomplete and tragically overreaching. In the end, although Lakoff shares some of my political philosophy, I wouldn’t touch his science with a ten-foot pole.
From the Chicago Reader: “A tragedy,” said A.E. Eyre. “A thoughtless misuse of funds that could have done the world so much good.” He’d just read my column in this week’s Reader. He’d found out that a California woman donated half a million dollars to Light Quarterly, a Chicago literary magazine for the advancement of light verse.
Conversation with Ben Spivey, editor for Warm Milk Press, a publisher of handmade chapbooks.
As noted on the Europa Editions website, Italian author Valerio Manfredi has a U.S. tour lined up. Nice to see this happening for Manfredi, what with all these do-it-yourself author tours going on during the recession.
Now this is why I love Borges.
With all due respect, I think the answer is pretty clear–it’ll help their books sell.
Andrew Seal argues that “Chicago and New York are to U.S. fiction what Tolstoy and Dostoevsky are to the Russians. Sorry, Boston. Sorry, L.A. Sorry, D.C. Sorry, San Fran. Sorry, the South. You have your claims, no doubt, but they are as the claims of Pushkin, Lermontov, Chekhov, or Gogol.” Discuss.
Phelan goes on to say, "There will, I’m sure, be no consensus about what constitutes badness or whether it belongs to the book, the reader, the situation of reading, all of the above, or none of the above," though he's almost wrong there. The list is pretty varied, from the morally-bankrupt to the so-bad-it's-good varieties, though generally the harshest judgments come against fussy stylists and purple prose. Cormac McCarthy gets singled out, by name and illustration, multiple times.
Wherein we learn that Imperial hasn’t gotten nearly the attention it deserves and “Vollmann was exceptionally gracious as both host and interview subject, quite generous with his whiskey and his time.”
In some of the best news ever, Margaret Atwood is going to have a cameo in a movie musical about hockey. Seriously. I am — what is the word? – giddy. Don’t believe me? Atwood discusses it on her blog. Can this news get better? Hell, yes. The movie also stars Olivia Newton-John.
New issue of the New York Review of Books is out, with Colm Tóibín on exile lit.
Lipsyte: Well these were the famous classes that he taught and others have written about it. He would kind of perform an amazing monologue for hours that would be a work of art in and of itself, in the way it was constructed in real time and kept pulling threads through and weaving all these elements together, but the content of it would be reflections on writing and art and what it is to be an artist and how one should approach the page. And then at the end of that—and that could go for four or five hours—at the end of that, he would call on students to read from whatever it was they were working on, but normally you wouldn't get too far, because he would stop you probably within a sentence or two and point out all that was false in what you had perpetrated.
In the brief essay that J.C. Hallman will deliver at a panel discussion at the 2010 AWP Conference in Denver, Hallman will offer up his own insights as to the nature of this admittedly flawed practice. The essay will be, to some extent, experimental. It will have a self-referential quality, it will aspire to innovation, indeed it will even be accurate to describe it as "meta-," but of course Hallman will use none of these terms, though he would like to. Book proposals are not places for words like innovation and experimentation. Instead, Hallman's essay will be "quirky and fun."
Seven Nights Jorge Luis Borges (trans. Eliot Weinberger). New Directions. $12.95, 128pp. In Seven Nights, the recently re-released collection of lectures-turned-essays originally given in Buenos Aires in 1977, Borges does not discuss the phenomenon of déjà vu. He does, however, speak at great length about nightmares and dreams, which he describes as “a kind of modest [...]
Best European Fiction 2010 edited by Aleksandar Hemon, preface by Zadie Smith. Dalkey Archive Press.448 pp, $15.95. “The great pest of speech is frequency of translation,” Samuel Johnson once wrote, in the preface to his iconic Dictionary of the English Language: No book was ever turned from one language into another without imparting something of its native [...]
“There are, of course, newspapers to keep responsible Americans up to date when trouble looms, and public television or even the History Channel to inform us about the occasional historic battle or archaeological discovery or civil war. What else do we need?” Claudia Roth Pierpont frames her essay on the contemporary Arabic novel, published in [...]