Screeds
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Can’t Cant
July 13, 2002
There’s been little recent examination of the rhetorical motifs employed in political talk today. The sole commentator who’s given the subject serious attention is the invaluable Thomas Sowell. In his landmark book The Vision Of The Anointed, Sowell reviews the techniques by which leftists evade actually having to argue for the policies they like or against the policies they dislike. Imagine that leftist Smith is disputing with conservative Jones over policy X, which is already in effect, and policy Y, which is not in effect.
- If Smith likes policy X, he’ll tell Jones that it’s “here to stay.”
- If Smith dislikes policy X, he’ll tell Jones that it’s “outmoded.”
- If Smith likes policy Y, he’ll tell Jones that it’s “inevitable.”
- If Smith dislikes policy Y, he’ll tell Jones that it’s “unrealistic.”
Reflect for a moment on the sinister beauty of this tactic. In none of the four cases does Smith address a policy on its merits. His “arguments” are based on nothing but flip assessments of the political support policies X and Y could generate—and that’s only if he’s being sincere.
The most significant characteristic of the tactic is that it forecloses the debatability of the policies under dispute. In delivering a summary judgment, it attempts to preclude discussion of the merits. We may assume that discussion of the merits is something Smith would prefer to avoid.
Yet, as clever and potent as the tactic is, we seldom see it in this form. In the majority of cases where it might be used, we more frequently see a single dismissive word: can’t.
“We can’t,” in political discussion, means “it’s impossible.” Of course, there’s no point debating the merits of something that’s plainly impossible, so the conversation should end here, and you should give the can’t-er what he wants.
But “impossible” is a very strong word. It implies things about Man and the universe that deserve to be thoroughly explored, whenever it’s used.
Usually, of course, the can’t-er isn’t really trying to exclude a policy from discussion on the grounds of physical impossibility. He’s almost always claiming political impossibility. Political impossibility is a commonly encountered notion. However, it means nothing.
Moral strictures are sometimes invoked to substantiate a decree of political impossibility: we can’t do that, the can’t-er cants, because it would be wrong. But opinions about the bounds of political jurisdiction over right and wrong do change over time. It was once considered morally wrong to manumit one’s slaves.
A lot of can’t cant is heard over proposed changes to the vice laws. Discussion of the decriminalization of various drugs is frequently met with can’t cant: that would “send the wrong message” to young people thinking about whether or not to experiment with drugs, and that would be wrong. This objection was undoubtedly raised in response to the move to repeal alcohol prohibition as well.
More often, a decree of political impossibility is grounded in a prejudgment of unacceptable consequences: we can’t do that, the can’t-er cants, because millions of people would starve to death, or take drugs, or be unable to afford broadband Internet access. This is an intriguing way to deal from the bottom of the rhetorical deck. It forecloses discussion of the merits by prejudging the merits. Since the can’t-er has a predisposition against the policy in dispute, he’ll raise tragic armies of immense size against it, usually numbering in the millions. When, against his inclinations, the policy is tried anyway, the results are seldom as dramatic as claimed, whether for good or for ill.
In recent discussions of whether airline pilots should be armed against the risk of hijackings, the can’t cant has been exceptionally weak—yet it’s been used anyway. The can’t-ers cannot abide the thought of arming ordinary people to fight for their own lives and safety, even when the sole alternative is to have fighter jets shoot down a hijacked plane, killing everyone aboard. It’s particularly ironic in light of the preponderance of retired military officers in commercial cockpits. Still, the can’t-er will invoke all sorts of shadowy terrors, all of which are supposed to eventuate in millions of people spilling their blood to gunfire.
Can’t cant was even raised against the removal of Bill Clinton from the Presidency. We can’t do that, the can’t-ers canted, because it would precipitate a Constitutional crisis! The ludicrousness of attributing a “crisis” to a procedure that was explicitly written into the Constitution, specifically to deal with a lawless lowlife in the Oval Office, was lost on all but a few.
With all the can’t cant that pollutes American public discourse, it’s a wonder that any substantive argument is ever advanced.
There’s no cloud without a silver lining, of course, and this one has its own. Can’t cant is a good indicator of how much the left fears a particular policy proposal. It will seldom arise over subjects where leftists feel the political stakes—the risk to their hegemony in some area—are low. When we see it, it delineates a target of importance, something where there could be great gains awaiting the cause of freedom.
Ann Coulter’s marvelous new book Slander: Liberal Lies About The American Right has grappled with the other major leftist tactic for dealing with conservatives and libertarians: smear them, silence them, and hope they’ll disappear out of sheer disgust. I hope and pray that someone as incisive and witty as Miss Coulter will soon tackle can’t cant, and throw it as jarringly as she’s thrown leftist slander tactics. Meanwhile, when faced with this evasive rhetorical device, I commend a brief rejoinder to you all:
“You certainly can do the can’t cant!”
With my apologies to Irving Berlin and can-can dancers everywhere.
| <<- Brick And Ivy | The Capital Of Gambling ->> |
