By way of introduction, I should caution readers that I have a literary mind, as opposed to a political one. At least, that’s the part of me I enjoy most for thinking, speaking, and writing. It may be useful to keep this in mind as you read my writings in this space. They won’t be trying to push an agenda on you, and I don’t think you’ll catch me being cynical. To me, cynicism is just a cheap substitute for wisdom.
One summer while I was in college, I worked several weeks for a 90-year-old lady who made little dolls and trinkets at home, and had me drive her around to the stores that took her products and sold them on consignment. We spent a lot of our driving time talking about all sorts of things.
In the middle of one of our conversations, she said, “Well, that’s because you just see people for who they are.”
I said, “Oh. How are you supposed to do it?”
“Most people,” she said, “see others for how they’re useful.”
Literary minds aim to see people for who they are. Political minds are anxious to validate an agenda. To them, people are only as important as they are useful.
Barack Obama, on the campaign trail early in 2008, discussed at one point why Ronald Reagan’s ideas had resonated with Americans in the 1980s. Politician though he was, Obama sometimes thought and wrote in a literary way, trying to explore reality, see it for what it is, and learn from it. Many Democrats at the time were up in arms about his commentary, because it did not fit their agenda. These were political minds. Their job was to highlight the strengths of their own positions, and invalidate those of opponents. Political minds focus not so much on understanding as on winning.
In fact, Obama was not praising Reagan for his policies, but was analyzing the relationship between Reagan and his supporters, thinking that this might help build bridges and strategies. But mentioning Reagan in any kind of positive light gave political pundits the impression that he’d complimented the opposing party. (My father was a little more direct about the impact Reagan had on our society, and he once shared his views quite forcefully during a visit to my sister’s house. Later, at school, my little nephew told his teacher that President Reagan’s first name was “That-bastard”!)
The best literary minds, whether in fiction or nonfiction, explore characters, evidence, hypotheses, relationships, and grapple with the realities they expose. They are not guided by trope or stereotype. In writing fiction, I’ve found that if I impose a concept (the girlfriend, the boss, the rebel) onto a character in a story, it falls flat. I have to channel elements of people and places I’ve known in order to make them come alive.
Political minds lean in on ideas that further their agenda, and, at least publicly, they turn a blind eye to evidence that might support an opposing position. They rarely have the patience or emotional bandwidth to write stories and novels. Rather, they like to write polemics, speeches, manifestos and rants. We need such people to move society forward, but their agenda anxiety does not make them very good students of literature.
Like most binary choices, these two options are useful but theoretical. People don't fit conveniently into one or the other label. Literary writers are not necessarily apolitical or objective observers. They may well incorporate political or religious views into their writings, because they are creative people informed by their values. Ayn Rand might be thought of as a political novelist, but she worked first in Hollywood as a scriptwriter, a playwright, and short story writer. Built into her work were values she developed in opposition to the Russian Revolution and organized religion, both of which she fled in the early 20th century.
Politics is the art of shaping the behavior of others, often masses of people, as is accomplished by governments, religions, and public relations companies. Among individuals, political behavior is transactional and can include negative maneuvers such as manipulation or micro-aggression, and positive efforts that we might call tact, inspiration, or leadership.
Political behavior is frequent in daily life, though not nearly as common as we’re led to believe by sit-coms and pundits. Since literary minds observe and write about all sorts of people, political characters and plots abound. Writers immerse themselves in many worlds in order to communicate convincingly. But they do not typically limit themselves to a simple message or agenda; in fact, many writers juggle multiple characters with conflicting agendas.
I know of a novel which lays out an alternative origin for a popular belief system, portraying it as having begun as a political program. The author, M. Liban, uses this work to convince his mentor to abandon a similar program in the present day. We know this because Liban is himself a fictional character within a larger novel. But as complex as this work may be, leaders of that belief system won’t like it; they simply cannot allow for an alternative origin to their beloved faith. Political minds have little patience for nuance.
The fears of offended political minds are not easily assuaged without action. Action is what politics is about, while literature is directed toward inner experience.
Aggrieved political action against authors may involve minor aggressions, such as on Twitter, or in the “cancelling" of an author within certain bubbles. More forceful action may trigger the censoring or banning of books. This is the work of political minds who cannot tolerate any challenge to their views, and do not have confidence that their own values are strong enough to stand up outside of their institutions. Such bans are usually built on perceived religious certainties.
Extreme actions by political minds against literary figures all too often have led to the burning of books by dictators and religious leaders. The blight of book burnings stretches back to ancient times, and forward to our own. It seems that some literary authors are so good at exposing truths that they gain the credibility to sway readers and push them to engage in their own critical thinking. This can drive political minds crazy with jealousy if it threatens to deflate their agenda or strengthen their opponents.
Dictators terrified of losing power try to eliminate challenges to their authority, like Shakespeare’s Macbeth did, or Hitler, or Stalin, to name just a few examples. The persecution of individual authors is the most tragic of aggressions against the perceived threat of literary minds. In 1988, a religious leader condemned Salman Rushdie to death for writing a novel. He lived in hiding following that, but continued writing and speaking. Only this year, he was viciously attacked on the stage of a literary event. Fortunately, he has survived, though not without serious lasting injuries. Rushdie's current works can be read here on Substack.
But we need literary minds to explore reality. Long ago, I accidentally attended a lecture by an expert on societal change (my job was showing slides during the times before laptops and PowerPoint). He pontificated to a large and influential audience that the only time people and societies change is through catastrophe. My immediate reaction (and the one I still feel) was: No. Panic is not the only, nor is it the best, motivator for change. People routinely learn and change as a result of envisioning alternative choices and their consequences, something military and other thinkers call “contingency planning” and what many others call “novels.”
Just as we need literary minds to expand our comprehension, we also need the skills of politicians to move arguments in the public arena, negotiate ways forward, and lead. But we don’t need the insecure and fearful political minds who, unaware of their dangerous and even lethal rigidity, declare war on anyone perceived as challenging their agenda.
Literary minds are creative, questioning, and willing to grapple with realities as they see them. Their experience with the rugged ups and downs of their creative struggles tends to give them a voice worth weighing, and a solid enough footing in reality that, unlike most political minds, they are even willing to change their minds. Yes, politically driven people do change their minds, or at least appear to, but the reason is usually transactional. It takes a special politician to ground their transactions in seeing people for who they are. We might even think of such a person as a literary politician, one who can analyze relationships and build bridges.
Sometimes literary minds have to engage their political side for the purposes of self-defense, or to carve out space within which to think, speak, and write. Like everyone else, I have to do that at times, but my natural preference, the perspective that motivates me, is the literary one. Exploring nonverbal truths through verbal means is a juicy and mysterious adventure well worth sharing.
My 90-year-old employer was very perceptive. I do like to see people for who they are. It’s an endless and dynamic fascination, and I’m not merely an observer.
P. S. It strikes me that the second half of this essay, about the targeting of literary minds by political ones, could also be speaking of “musical minds" and in that sense, would fit in with stories about the suppression and appropriation of singers and musicians since ancient times, as discussed in Ted Goia's “Subversive History of Music" (also addressed in his new book, on Substack). Perhaps not a surprise, since I'm as much musician as writer.
In Ukraine, politicians are setting the example of having artists combat disinformation campaigns from Russia. https://www.wired.com/story/disinformation-art-science