Most of us have a few high school memories we’ve never forgotten. One of mine is taking a class called Civilization.
It was based on the 1960s BBC television series Civilisation, narrated by Kenneth Clark. The class was a history of art, philosophy and architecture.
Here’s the thing I remember: The teacher, Mr. Bradley, tried to explain to us why Ed Sullivan was such a popular TV host. After all, Sullivan was terribly awkward and poorly spoken.
That’s precisely why he was so popular, our teacher said. “The average person goes: ‘Hey, Ed’s just like me. I like that.’”
Mr. Bradley was (at least in the context of this class) making a point about anti-intellectualism in America.
Today, anti-intellectualism’s most visible proponent is Donald Trump, the leading candidate for the Republican nomination.
On the surface, it’s difficult to explain why Trump is so popular. He says stupid things, most memorably his plan to build a wall to keep Mexicans out of the United States. He makes crude and insulting remarks about women (and men, for that matter). He said Sen. John McCain, imprisoned for five years after being shot down during the Vietnam War, is no “war hero” because he was captured. He said he’d date his own attractive daughter if she wasn’t, you know... his own daughter.
Trump represents a potent brand of anti-intellectualism embraced by an astonishing number of people. Of course, it’s much more Machiavellian than anything purveyed by poor old Ed Sullivan. There’s real cunning at work.
I doubt if Trump truly believes everything he says (although he’s probably serious about that wall). He’s a shrewd businessman with a shark-like instinct for what sells. Just like our Rob Ford, Trump can identify the zeitgeist within a certain segment of the population. And he capitalizes on this with the huckster smarts of P.T. Barnum.
For a certain breed of American, Trump represents both what they are and what they aspire to. He’s perceived as a tell-it-like-it-is guy who cuts through the P.C. prattle. (Mexicans? Damned straight, keep them out of here!) Unlike those fancy college-groomed politicians, the baseball-capped Trump is “just like us.”
He also personifies a crass reduction of the American Dream. He’s a businessman with a lot of money. He’s married to a model. He was even on reality TV.
Unlike Sullivan, who at least aimed for decorousness, Trump is a true vulgarian. In fact, he’s the poster boy for the new vulgarity now flourishing in the U.S.
The low point, for me, was when Trump declared that his “small” hands are no indication of the size of his genitalia. Can you imagine such a man becoming the president of the United States?
In 1980, author and scientist Isaac Asimov wrote in Newsweek magazine: “There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there always has been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way throughout political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means ‘my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge.’ ”
So any opinion, no matter how ill-conceived, is as good as another. With this in mind, it’s OK to believe climate change and evolution are bogus. It’s fine to believe that everyone needs to arm themselves to fend off other people. And it’s sensible to think that building a 3,100-kilometre wall between America and Mexico is a good way to solve immigration problems.
Trump’s version of the American Dream may be popular, but it’s a twisted vision. Everyone is out for him or herself, ideally outfitted with a .44 Magnum. In the land of free speech, debate is no longer possible or desirable. As we saw last week at Trump’s rallies, those with dissenting opinions must be shouted down or even violently ousted.
To some degree, anti-intellectualism and vulgarism have become a way of life not only in the U.S. but the western world. You see this especially in pop culture, which routinely mistakes crudity for being cutting-edge. We have Miley Cyrus’s tongue-wagging, for example, or Seth Rogan’s unrelenting frat-boy humour.
The difference, of course, is that the stakes are much higher with Trump, the vulgarian’s hero and crown prince of anti-intellectualism. A man who is somehow, quite incredibly, slouching his way toward a possible presidency.
I still have my high-school copy of Kenneth Clark’s Civilisation. Here’s a quote: “I believe order is better than chaos, creation better than destruction. I prefer gentleness to violence, forgiveness to vendetta. On the whole, I think that knowledge is preferable to ignorance, and I am sure that human sympathy is more valuable than ideology.”