B. Formal Constituents of Political Thinking

 

1. Ignorance and Confusion³

The evaluation of the political statements contained in our interview material has to be considered in relation to the widespread ignorance and confusion of our subjects in political matters, a phenomenon which might well surpass what even a skeptical observer should have anticipated. If people do not know what they are talking about, the concept of »opinion,« which is basic to any approach to ideology, loses much of its meaning. This does not imply that the material becomes insignificant but rather that it cannot be interpreted in factual categories but must be related to the sociopsychological structure of the subject being investigated. In other words, the material itself calls for that personality analysis which marks the general strategy of our research. It is in the light of this analysis that the ideology of our subjects is now to be re-evaluated.

While ignorance and confusion marks the political statements of both high and low scorers, it is, nevertheless, by no means »neutral« with regard to the problem of susceptibility to fascist propaganda. Our general impression is that ignorance and confusion is more widespread among high than among low scorers. This would be consistent with our previous observations on the general »anti-intellectual« attitude of high scorers. In addition, the official optimism of the high scorer tends to exclude that kind of critical analysis of existent conditions on which rational political judgment depends. A man who is prone to identify himself a priori with the world as it is has little incentive to penetrate it intellectually and to distinguish between essence and surface. The »practical« bias of the high scorers, their emotional detachment from everything that is beyond their well defined range of action, is another factor contributing to their disinterestedness in, and lack of, political knowledge. However this may be, there is reason to believe that ignorance itself works in favor of general reactionary trends. This belief, based on consistent observations particularly in backward rural areas everywhere, has been epitomized by the old German social-democratic adage that anti-Semitism is the »socialism of the dolt.« All modern fascist movements, including the practices of contemporary American demagogues, have aimed at the ignorant; they have consciously manipulated the facts in a way that could lead to success only with those who were not acquainted with the facts. Ignorance with respect to the complexities of contemporary society makes for a state of general uncertainty and anxiety, which is the ideal breeding ground for the modern type of reactionary mass movement. Such movements are always »populist« and maliciously anti-intellectual. It is not accidental that fascism has never evolved any consistent social theory, but has persistently denounced theoretical thinking and knowledge as »alienation from the grass-roots.« The existence of such ignorance and confusion as we find in the interviews of subjects, particularly when we consider the relatively high educational level which they as a group represent, has to be regarded as ominous, no matter whether the subjects in question score high or low on our scales. The configuration of technical skill and the »realism« of »looking after oneself« on the one hand, and of the stubborn refusal intellectually to penetrate reality on the other, is the very climate in which fascist movements can prosper. Where this outlook prevails, a critical situation may easily lead to the general acceptance of formulae which are today still regarded as prerogatives of the »lunatic fringe.«

Sometimes ignorance is explicitly commented upon by our interviewers. But even if we do not regard their impression as sufficient proof, there is evidence enough within the material, be it that the statements betray a striking lack of information, be it that the interviewee confesses his disinterestedness in politics or his lack of knowledge. The latter attitude, incidentally, is particularly frequent with women, and often it is accompanied by self-accusing statements.

It is hard to distinguish between simple ignorance and confusedness, that is to say, between the state of simply not knowing the facts, and the state which exists when people without sufficient intellectual training grow muddle-headed under the incessant attack of all kinds of mass communication and propaganda and do not know what to make of the facts they have. It seems as if confusion were the effect of ignorance: as if those who do not know but feel somehow obliged to have political opinions, because of some vague idea about the requirements of democracy, help themselves with scurrilous ways of thinking and sometimes with forthright bluff.

The few quotations to follow are picked at random as illustrations of a phenomenon which is well-nigh universal, but for the very few exceptional cases of people who take a conscious and explicit interest in politics.

An example of ignorance, covered up by pompous phraseology, is the following statement by M 117, a low-scoring man from the University Extension Group. He is a semi-educated sailor with high-school background and widely read, but generally muddle-headed.

 

(American political scene?) »We have a good basis for our political system. The majority of people are not interested or equipped enough to understand politics, so that the biggest proportion of U.S. politics is governed by the capitalistic system.«

 

To this man, the existence or nonexistence of capitalism in this country is simply a matter of »education.«

A »bluffer« is the veteran M 732c, a high-scoring man with high-school education, who always starts with sentences which sound up-to-date but rarely finishes them:

 

(What does he think of political trends today?) »I would say that now we're in a very sad case. Worse off than two years ago – well, the situation with Russia in Iran – and these strikes that are coming on – quite a deal of good statesmanship to fix the world up ...«

 

The subject's statements abound with qualifications and evasions:

 

»I feel somehow that they (i.e., the unions) are progressing in a way but in other ways they are not. I think all things will work out for the best. But I really think they should not go into politics. ... I am not very well versed on. ...«

 

Asked about the most dangerous threats to present form of government:

 

»Well, let's see ... well, we might have another war in the U.S.A. Since the U.S. itself is a huge melting pot. ... I imagine in the U.S. there are a lot of people who hated to see Hitler die and are pro-German – and maybe one of these little groups will ... catch on.«

 

A San Quentin prisoner, M 621A, who scores low on the E and PEC scales and middle on F, regards Russia as the most dangerous threat. When asked what ought to be done, he answers:

 

»Well, people should limit political parties to at least two groups and not have all these socialists and communists, etc.« (What to do with socialists and communists?) »Well, they could still believe in their own ideal ... let them have a voice in the election but should not be allowed to have any power.« (You mean they should not be allowed to put up any candidates?) »No, unless they get a majority.«

 

One of the most extreme examples in the high-scoring woman F 121, who »was never good at school work« and apparently had very little general education.

 

Not interested, not informed. Thinks Roosevelt has been good and should see us through the war. Otherwise has no opinions. She had written on the side of the questionnaire, asking about political parties: »Don't know these parties.«

 

Again, 5016, a housewife, graduated from high school, high on F and E but middle on PEC, referred to by the interviewer as »being of moderately high intelligence,« says:

 

»I hear that communists and socialists are both bad.«

 

By contrast, 5052, the Spanish-Negro entertainer, high on F and PEC, middle on E, has an opinion of his own on communism and apparently some sympathy with communists, but his opinion is no less startling:

 

»All of the people in the entertainment world who are communists are good guys.«

 

On further questioning it comes out that according to his opinion:

 

Communism seems to be a sort of social club which holds meetings and raises money for worthy causes.

 

Somewhat exceptional is the statement of the moderately low-scoring callhouse girl, 5035, who, before she chose the profession of prostitute, was a graduate of the University of California. She is strongly interested in union activities and actually lost her former job as a dancing teacher because of such activities, but refused on the questionnaire to mark any questions with regard to political groups, for which she gives the following explanation:

 

»I am very confused about politics because I talk about them a great deal with our clients here and they all have different opinions. It was a struggle for me to get through economics in college.«

 

In practical issues, however, her views are very liberal and even radical.

The self-accusing attitude of women with regard to political matters seems to be most common among medium and low scorers; this is consistent with the latter's general introspective and self-critical attitude.

An example is the 17-year-old student of social work, F 128, who is middle on E and F but high on PEC:

 

»I am a little ashamed about this subject. I hate to be ignorant about anything but frankly, I don't know anything about politics. I am for Roosevelt, of course, but I don't think I have developed any ideas of my own. Mother and Jim talk about things, but it is mostly social work shop. I intend to read a lot and think a lot about things because I believe all intelligent people should have ideas.«

 

Interesting also is the low scorer, F 517, a 20-year-old freshman student majoring in music, who accuses herself of ignorance and dependence, though her general attitude, particularly with regard to minority questions, shows that she is rather articulate and outspoken and that she differs from her parents.

 

»I don't know much about it. I'm quite dependent – I get my opinions from my father. He is a die-hard Republican. He did not like Roosevelt but I think he did some good things (such as making things better for the poor people).«

 

It would go beyond the scope of the present study to attempt a full explanation of political ignorance so strikingly in contrast to the level of information in many other matters and to the highly rational way in which most of our subjects decide about the means and ends of their own lives. The ultimate reason for this ignorance might well be the opaqueness of the social, economic, and political situation to all those who are not in full command of all the resources of stored knowledge and theoretical thinking. In its present phase, our social system tends objectively and automatically to produce »curtains« which make it impossible for the naive person really to see what it is all about. These objective conditions are enhanced by powerful economic and social forces which, purposely or automatically, keep the people ignorant. The very fact that our social system is on the defense, as it were, that capitalism, instead of expanding the old way and opening up innumerable opportunities to the people, has to maintain itself somewhat precariously and to block critical insights which were regarded as »progressive« one hundred years ago but are viewed as potentially dangerous today, makes for a one-sided presentation of the facts, for manipulated information, and for certain shifts of emphasis which tend to check the universal enlightenment otherwise furthered by the technological development of communications. Once again, as in the era of the transition from feudalism to middle-class society, knowing too much has assumed a subversive touch, as it were. This tendency is met halfway by the »authoritarian« frame of mind of large sections of the population. The transformation of our social system from something dynamic into something conservative, a status quo, struggling for its perpetuation, is reflected by the attitudes and opinions of all those who, for reasons of vested interests or psychological conditions, identify themselves with the existing setup. In order not to undermine their own pattern of identification, they unconsciously do not want to know too much and are ready to accept superficial or distorted information as long as it confirms the world in which they want to go on living. It would be erroneous to ascribe the general state of ignorance and confusion in political matters to natural stupidity or to the mythological »immaturity« of the people. Stupidity may be due to psychological repressions more than to a basic lack of the capacity for thinking. Only in this way, it seems, can the low level of political intelligence even among our college sample be understood. They find it difficult to think and even to learn because they are afraid they might think the wrong thoughts or learn the wrong things. It may be added that this fear, probably often due to the father's refusal to tell the child more than he is supposedly capable of understanding, is continuously reinforced by an educational system which tends to discourage anything supposedly »speculative,« or which cannot be corroborated by surface findings, and stated in terms of »facts and figures.«

The discrepancy brought about by the absence of political training and the abundance of political news with which the population is flooded and which actually or fictitiously presupposes such training, is only one among many aspects of this general condition. With reference to the specific focus of our research, two aspects of political ignorance may be emphasized. One is that being »intelligent« today means largely to look after one's self, to take care of one's advantages whereas, to use Veblen's words, »idle curiosity« is discouraged. Since the pertinence of economic and political matters to private existence, however, is largely obscured to the population even now, they do not bother about things which apparently have little bearing on their fate and upon which they have, as they are dimly aware, not too much influence.

The second aspect of ignorance which has to be stressed here, is of a more psychological nature. Political news and comment like all other information poured out by the radio, the press, and the newsreels, is generally absorbed during leisure time and falls, in a certain way, within the framework of »entertainment.« Politics is viewed in much the same way as sport or the movies, not as something directly involved with one's own participation in the process of production. Viewed within this frame of reference, however, politics is necessarily »disappointing.« It appears to people conditioned by an industrial culture and its specific kinds of »entertainment values« as drab, cold, dry – as boring. This may be enhanced by that undercurrent of American tradition which regards politics somehow as a dirty business with which a respectable person should have but little to do. Disappointment in politics as a leisure-time activity which pays no quick returns probably makes for indifference, and it is quite possible that the prevailing ignorance is due not merely to unfamiliarity with the facts but also a kind of resistance against what is supposed to serve as a pastime and mostly tends to be disagreeable. A pattern most often to be observed, perhaps, among women, namely, skipping the political sections of newspapers, where information is available, and turning immediately to gossip columns, crime stories, the woman's page, and so forth, may be an extreme expression of something more general.

To sum up, political ignorance would seem to be specifically determined by the fact that political knowledge as a rule does not primarily help to further individual aims in reality, whereas, on the other hand, it does not help the individual to evade reality either.

2. Ticket Thinking and Personalization in Politics

 

The frame of mind concomitant with ignorance and confusion may be called one of lack of political experience in the sense that the whole sphere of politics and economics is »aloof« from the subject, that he does not reach it with concrete innervations, insights, and reactions but has to contend with it in an indirect, alienated way. Yet, politics and economics, alien as they may be from individual life, and largely beyond the reach of individual decision and action, decisively affect the individual's fate. In our present society, in the era of all-comprising social organization and total war, even the most naive person becomes aware of the impact of the politico-economic sphere. Here belongs, of course, primarily the war situation, where literally life and death of the individual depend on apparently far-away political dynamics. But also issues such as the role of unionism in American economy, strikes, the development of free enterprise toward monopolism and therewith the question of state control, make themselves felt apparently down to the most private and intimate realms of the individual.

This, against the background of ignorance and confusion, makes for anxiety on the ego level that ties in only too well with childhood anxieties. The individual has to cope with problems which he actually does not understand, and he has to develop certain techniques of orientation, however crude and fallacious they may be, which help him to find his way through the dark, as it were.⁴ These means fulfill a dual function: on the one hand, they provide the individual with a kind of knowledge, or with substitutes for knowledge, which makes it possible for him to take a stand where it is expected of him, whilst he is actually not equipped to do so. On the other hand, by themselves they alleviate psychologically the feeling of anxiety and uncertainty and provide the individual with the illusion of some kind of intellectual security, of something he can stick to even if he feels, underneath, the inadequacy of his opinions.

The task of how to understand the »ununderstandable,« paradoxical in itself, leads toward a paradoxical solution, that is to say, the subjects tend to employ two devices which contradict each other, a contradiction that expresses the impasse in which many people find themselves. These two devices are stereotypy and personalization. It is easy to see that these »devices« are repetitions of infantile patterns. The specific interaction of stereotypy and prejudice has been discussed in detail in the preceding chapter. It may now be appropriate to review ideological stereotypy and its counterpart, personalization, in a broader context, and to relate it to more fundamental principles long established by psychology. Rigid dichotomies, such as that between »good and bad,« »we and the others,« »I and the world« date back to our earliest developmental phases. While serving as necessary constructs in order to enable us to cope, by mental anticipation and rough organization, with an otherwise chaotic reality, even the stereotypes of the child bear the hallmark of stunted experience and anxiety. They point back to the »chaotic« nature of reality, and its clash with the omnipotence fantasies of earliest infancy. Our stereotypes are both tools and scars: the »bad man« is the stereotype par excellence. At the same time, the psychological ambiguity inherent in the use of stereotypes, which are both necessary and constricting forces, stimulate regularly a countertendency. We try, by a kind of ritual, to soften the otherwise rigid, to make human, close, part of ourselves (or the family) that which appears, because of its very alienness, threatening. The child who is afraid of the bad man is at the same time tempted to call every stranger »uncle.« The traumatic element in both these attitudes continuously serves as an obstacle to the reality principle, although both also function as means of adjustment. When transformed into character traits, the mechanisms involved make more and more for irrationality. The opaqueness of the present political and economic situation for the average person provides an ideal opportunity for retrogression to the infantile level of stereotypy and personalization. The political rationalizations used by the uninformed and confused are compulsive revivals of irrational mechanisms never overcome during the individual's growth. This seems to be one of the main links between opinions and psychological determinants.

Once again, stereotypy helps to organize what appears to the ignorant as chaotic: the less he is able to enter into a really cognitive process, the more stubbornly he clings to certain patterns, belief in which saves him the trouble of really going into the matter.

Where the rigidly compulsive nature of the stereotype cuts off the dialectics of trial and error, stultification enters the picture. Stereotypy becomes – to use J.F. Brown's term – stereopathy. This is the case in the political area where a firm bulk of ignorance and lack of any relation to the objective material forbids any real experience. In addition, industrial standardization of innumerable phenomena of modern life enhances stereotypical thinking. The more stereotyped life itself becomes, the more the stereopath feels in the right, sees his frame of thinking vindicated by reality. Modern mass communications, moulded after industrial production, spread a whole system of stereotypes which, while still being fundamentally »ununderstandable« to the individual, allow him at any moment to appear as being up to date and »knowing all about it.« Thus, stereotyped thinking in political matters is almost inescapable.

However, the adult individual, like the child, has to pay a heavy price for the comfort he draws from stereotypy. The stereotype, while being a means of translating reality in a kind of multiple-choice questionnaire where every issue is subsumed and can be decided by a plus or minus mark, keeps the world as aloof, abstract, »nonexperienced« as it was before. Moreover, since it is above all the alienness and coldness of political reality which causes the individual's anxieties, these anxieties are not fully remedied by a device which itself reflects the threatening, streamlining process of the real social world. Thus, stereotypy calls again for its very opposite: personalization. Here, the term assumes a very definite meaning: the tendency to describe objective social and economic processes, political programs, internal and external tensions in terms of some person identified with the case in question rather than taking the trouble to perform the impersonal intellectual operations required by the abstractness of the social processes themselves.

Both stereotypy and personalization are inadequate to reality. Their interpretation may therefore be regarded as a first step in the direction of understanding the complex of »psychotic« thinking which appears to be a crucial characteristic of the fascist character. It is obvious, however, that this subjective failure to grasp reality is not primarily and exclusively a matter of the psychological dynamics of the individuals involved, but is in some part due to reality itself, to the relationship or lack of relationship between this reality and the individual. Stereotypy misses reality in so far as it dodges the concrete and contents itself with preconceived, rigid, and overgeneralized ideas to which the individual attributes a kind of magical omnipotence. Conversely, personalization dodges the real abstractness, that is to say, the »reification« of a social reality which is determined by property relations and in which the human beings themselves are, as it were, mere appendages. Stereotypy and personalization are two divergent parts of an actually nonexperienced world, parts which are not only irreconcilable with each other, but which also do not allow for any addition which would reconstruct the picture of the real.

a. CASES OF POLITICAL TICKET THINKING. We limit ourselves to describing a few cases of political stereotypy.

M 359 from the University Extension Testing Class is departmental manager for a leather company. He is high on E and PEC but middle on F. While imbued with authoritarian ideas he shows a certain imaginativeness and general disposition to discursive argumentation somewhat different from the typical high scorer's mentality. It is thus the more striking to find that the political section of his interview is completely abstract and cliché-like. Just because this subject is by no means a fanatic, his statements serve well to illustrate how ignorance is covered up by phraseology, and how the stereotypes, borrowed from the vernacular of current newspaper editorials, make for the acceptance of reactionary trends. In order to give a concrete picture of how this mechanism works, his political statements are given in full. This may also supply us with an example of how the various topics with which we shall have to deal in detail afterwards form a kind of ideological unit once a person is under the sway of political semi-information:

 

(Political trends?) »I am not very happy by the outward aspect of things, too much politics instead of a basis of equality and justice for all men. Running of the entire country is determined by the party in power, not very optimistic outlook. Under Roosevelt, the people were willing to turn entire schedule of living over to the government, wanted everything done for them. (Main problem?) No question but the problem of placing our servicemen back into employment, giving them a degree of happiness is a major problem. If not handled soon, may produce a serious danger. More firm organization of servicemen.«

(What might do?) »Boycott the politicians and establish the old-time government that we should have had all along.« (What is this?) »Government of, by, and for the people.« Subject emphasizes the moderate, average man is the serviceman. (Unions?) »Not satisfied with them. One characteristic is especially unsatisfactory. Theory is wonderful and would hate to see them abolished, but too much tendency to level all men, all standards of workmanship and effort by equalizing pay. Other objection is not enough democratic attitude by the membership, generally controlled by minority group.« Subject emphasizes the compulsion imposed upon men to join but not to participate with the results of ignorant union leaders. He emphasizes the need to raise the standards of voting by members and to require rotation of office and high qualifications for officers. He compares these adversely with business leaders.

(Government control?) »There is too much tendency to level everything, doesn't give man opportunity to excel.« Subject emphasizes the mediocrity of government workers, pay is unsufficient to attract the best calibre of men and no incentive plans, etc.

(Threats to present government?) »Probably most dangerous threat to our government today, and that also applies to union organization, and life in general, is disinterest, the tendency to let the other fellow do it on the part of great numbers of people so that things go on the way a few selfish men determine.«

 

The decisive twist is achieved by jumping from the very abstract idea of »equality and justice for all men« to the equally formalistic condemnation of »running the country by the party in power« – which happens to be the party of the New Deal. The vague cliché of an all-comprising democracy serves as an instrument against any specific democratic contents. It should not be overlooked, however, that some of his statements on unions – where he has some experience – make sense.

M 1225a, a medium scorer who has been eighteen months at sea and is strongly interested in engineering, is a good example of stereotypy in politics employed by otherwise moderate people, and of its intimate relationship to ignorance. To this man one of the greatest political problems today is »the unions.« Describing them, he applies indiscriminately and without entering into the matter three current clichés – that of the social danger, that of government interference, and that of the luxurious life of union leaders – simply by repeating certain formulae without caring much about their interconnection or their consistency:

 

»For one thing they have too much power. Cross between the socialistic part of the union and the government ... seems to go to the other extreme. Government investigation ...« (subject seems rather confused in his ideas here). »The unions ... socialistic form in there. I know, I belonged to a few unions. They get up there and then call you brother and then drive off in a Cadillac. ... Nine times out of ten the heads of the unions don't know anything of the trade. It's a good racket. ...«

 

Most of his subsequent answers are closely in line with a general pattern of reactionism, formulated mostly in terms of »I don't believe in it« without discussing the issue itself. The following passages may suffice as an illustration.

 

($25,000 limit on salaries?) »I don't believe in that.«

(Most dangerous threats to present form of government?) »I believe it's in the government itself. Too many powers of its own.«

(What ought to be done?) »Going to have to solve a lot of other problems first. Get goods back on the market.«

(What about this conflict between Russia on the one hand and England and this country on the other?) »I don't particularly care for Russia and I don't particularly care for England.«

 

In this case, clichés are manifestly used in order to cover up lack of information. It is as if each question to which he does not know any specific answer conjures up the carry-overs of innumerable press slogans which he repeats in order to demonstrate that he is one of those who do not like to be told and do like to think. Underlying is only a rigid pattern of yeas and nays. He is aware of how a man of his general political outlook should react to each political issue but he is not aware of the issues themselves. He therefore supplements his plus and minus marks by phrases which more often than not are mere gaucheries.

F 139 belongs to the type which is to be characterized in Chapter XIX^[5] as »rigid low.« Her most outstanding trait is her violent hatred of alcohol – which suggests deeper-lying »high« trends. Liquors are her Jews, as it were. She regards herself as a Christian Socialist and solves most problems not by discussing them but referring to what the religious socialist should think.

The break between her opinions and any kind of substantial experience is evidenced by the following statement:

 

»My favorite world statesman is Litvinov. I think the most dramatic speech of modern times is the one he made at the Geneva Conference when he pleaded for collective security. It has made us very happy to see the fog of ignorance and distrust surrounding the Soviet Union clearing away during this war. Things are not settled yet, though. There are many fascists in this country who would fight Roosevelt if they could.«

 

She has a ready-made formula for the problem of nonviolence in international affairs:

 

»Of course, I am an internationalist. Would I be a true Christian if I weren't? And I have always been a pacifist. Wars are completely unnecessary. This one was. That is, it could have been avoided if the democratic people had recognized their own interest early enough and taken the proper steps. But they did not. And now we ask ourselves: would the interests of the people of the world be advanced by a fascist victory? Obviously they would not. So we must support this war completely because we are faced with a clear choice and cannot avoid it.«

 

She offers a clear example of the association of stereotypy and personalization. Whereas her political persuasion should induce her to think in objective socioeconomic terms, she actually thinks in terms of favorite people, preferably famous ones, of humans who are public institutions as it were – of »human stereotypes.«

 

»My second favorite world statesman is our own President although, perhaps, I should say Mrs. Roosevelt. I don't think he would have been anything without her. She really made him what he is. I believe the Roosevelts have a very sincere interest in people and their welfare. There is one thing that bothers me about them though – specially Mrs. Roosevelt – that is – liquor. She is not against it and it seems to me she should know how much we would be improved as a people without it.«

 

She exhibits a significant characteristic of the low scorers' political stereotypy: a kind of mechanical belief in the triumph of progress, the counterpart to the high scorers' frequent references to impending doom which is also a keynote of the above-quoted political statements of M 359.

 

»All one has to do is look backward to feel optimistic. I would not be a true Christian if I did not believe that man's progress is upward. We are so much farther along than we were a century ago. Social legislation that was only a dream is an accomplished fact.«

 

b. EXAMPLES OF PERSONALIZATION. The tendency towards personalization feeds on the American tradition of personal democracy as expressed most strikingly by the power delegated to the executive branch of the government by our Constitution, and also on that aspect of traditional American liberalism which regards competition as a contest between men, where the better man is likely to conquer. Cause and effect seem to be somewhat reversed: whereas in market economy the supposedly »better man« is defined by competitive success, people have come to think that success falls to the better man. Consistent with this is the highly personalized character of political propaganda, particularly in electioneering where the objective issues at stake are mostly hidden behind the exaltation of the individuals involved, often in categories which have but very little to do with the functions those individuals are supposed to fulfill. The ideal of a democracy, where the people have their immediate say, is frequently misused under conditions of today's mass society, as an ideology which covers up the omnipotence of objective social tendencies and, more specifically, the control exercised by the party machines.

The material on personalization is both abundant and monotonous. A few examples may suffice.

The low-scoring man, M 116, prefers [Henry A.] Wallace to [Thomas E.] Dewey because

 

»Wallace is the better man and I usually vote for the better man.«

 

Here personalization is the more striking since these two figures are actually defined by objectively antagonistic platforms, whereas it is more than doubtful whether the interviewee, or, for that matter, the great majority of the American people, is in any position to say what they are like »as men.«

The high-scoring man, M 102, employs almost literally the same expression as M 116:

 

»... put down Democratic, but I never thought much about the party. I don't vote for the party but for the best man.«

 

Professed belief in political theories is no antidote for personalization. M 117, another »low« man, regards himself as a »scientific socialist« and is full of confidence in sociological psychology. But when asked about American parties, he comes out with the following statement:

 

»I don't know about that. I'm only interested in the man and his abilities. I don't care what party he belongs to.« (What man do you like?) »F.D.R. is one of the greatest. I did not like him when he was elected but I admit I was wrong. He did a marvelous job. He was concerned with the benefit of the country. Truman is doing a good job so far. The Senators and congressmen are run-of-the-mill. Dewey is outstanding, I think; he has potentialities. He is apparently sincere and honest and concerned with the whole country. He did a good job as District Attorney.«

 

More aspects of personalization will be described when our interviewees' attitudes towards Roosevelt are under consideration. Here, we content ourselves with suggesting two qualities which seem to play a great role in the personalization complex and which recur regularly in our high scorers' statements about Dewey: Honesty and Sincerity.

F 114, a high-scoring woman, knows that Dewey »is strong, young, courageous, honest. He may have faults, but they're useful faults. I felt he was a strong, young person.« Obviously, this statement is linked to the adulation of strength that plays so large a role in the psychology of our high scorers (cf. Chapter VII).^[6] The honesty of the former D.A. is derived from his much-advertised drive against political racketeering and corruption. He is supposed to be honest because he has exterminated, according to his propagandist build-up, the dishonest. Honesty seems largely to be a rationalization for vindictiveness. Speaking psychologically, the image of Dewey is a projection of the punitive superego, or rather one of those collective images which replace the superego in an externalized, rigid form. The praise of his honesty, together with the repeated emphasis on his strength and youth, fall within the »strong man« pattern.

F 117, another high scorer, of the Professional Women group, has a maximal score on A-S and is generally extremely conservative. Her similarly personalized appraisal of Dewey strikes a slightly different note but fits within the same pattern:

 

She feels that Dewey knows the value of money better than Roosevelt, because he came from a family that did not have too much.

 

The punitiveness behind the praise of the honest man shows itself in this example as hatred against comfortable living, against the »snobbish upper class« who supposedly enjoy the things which one has to deny to oneself. Dewey, per contra, is the symbol of one's own frustrations and is unconsciously, i.e., sado-masochistically, expected to perpetuate frustration. What he seems to stand for within the minds of the high-scoring subjects is a state of affairs in which everybody has »learned the value of a dollar.« Identification with him is easy because as a prospective President he has the halo of power whereas his frugality is that of the middle-class subject herself.

Perhaps it is not accidental that infatuation with honesty is particularly frequent among women. They see life from the consumer's side; they do not want to be cheated, and there-fore the noisy promise of honesty has some appeal to them.

As to the differentiation between high and low scorers with regard to personalization, an impression may tentatively be formulated which is hard to substantiate but consistent with our clinical findings. The element of personalization that counts most heavily with the low scorers seems to be confidence, the idea that public figures are good, friendly fathers who take care of one, or of the »underdog.« It seems to be derived from an actual life relationship to one's parents, from unblocked positive transference. This observation will be brought into relief when the attitude of our subjects towards Roosevelt is discussed. Conversely, the personal trait most appreciated by the high scorer seems to be strength. Social power and control, the ultimate focus of their identification, is translated by the personalization mechanism into a quality inherent in certain individuals. The symbols of the powers that be are drawn from the imagery of a stern father to whom one »looks up.« One last aspect of personalization may be mentioned. To know something about a person helps one to seem »informed« without actually going into the matter: it is easier to talk about names than about issues, while at the same time the names are recognized identification marks for all current topics. Thus, spurious personalization is an ideal behavior pattern for the semi-erudite, a device somewhere in the middle between complete ignorance and that kind of »knowledge« which is being promoted by mass communication and industrialized culture.

To sum up: ever more anonymous and opaque social processes make it increasingly difficult to integrate the limited sphere of one's personal life experience with objective social dynamics. Social alienation is hidden by a surface phenomenon in which the very opposite is being stressed: personalization of political attitudes and habits offers compensation for the dehumanization of the social sphere which is at the bottom of most of today's grievances. As less and less actually depends on individual spontaneity in our political and social organization, the more people are likely to cling to the idea that the man is everything and to seek a substitute for their own social impotence in the supposed omnipotence of great personalities.

3. Surface Ideology and Real Opinion

 

The alienation between the political sphere and the life experience of the individual, which the latter often tries to master by psychologically determined intellectual makeshifts such as stereotypy and personalization, sometimes results in a gap between what the subject professes to think about politics and economy and what he really thinks. His »official« ideology conforms to what he supposes he has to think; his real ideas are an expression of his more immediate personal needs as well as of his psychological urges. The »official« ideology pertains to the objectified, alienated sphere of the political, the »real opinion« to the subject's own sphere, and the contradiction between the two expresses their irreconcilability.

Since this formal structure of political thinking has an immediate bearing upon one of the key phenomena of susceptibility to fascism, namely upon pseudoconservatism, it may be appropriate to offer a few examples here.

F 116, a prejudiced woman of the University Extension Group, offers an example of a conflict between surface ideology and real attitude through her somewhat deviate pattern of scale scores: she is middle on E and F but low on PEC. In her case, the deeper determinants are doubtless potentially fascist as evidenced particularly by her strong racial prejudice against both Negroes and Jews. In other political issues the picture is highly ambivalent. Characteristically, she classes herself as a Democrat, but voted for [Wendell] Willkie and then for Dewey. She »wasn't against Roosevelt,« but her statement that »no man is indispensable« thinly veils her underlying hostility. She

 

»knew what Hoover stood for, and I had no use for him. But that didn't mean I had to worship Roosevelt. He was a good man, but when I heard people weeping and wailing over his death, I was just disgusted. As though he were indispensable.«

 

The amazing irregularity is an emphatically pro-Russian statement and an outspokenly antifascist attitude in international politics:

 

»Now, I am a great admirer of Russia. Perhaps I shouldn't say it out loud, but I am. I think they are really trying to do something for all the people. Of course there was a lot of suffering and bloodshed but think of what they had to struggle against. My husband really gets disturbed about this. He says I ought to go to Russia if I like communism so much. He says that to admire communism is to want a change and he thinks it is very wrong for me to even sound as though I wanted any change when we have enough and are comfortable and are getting along all right. I tell him that is very selfish and also that some people under the Czar might have felt that way but when the situation got so bad there was a revolution they got wiped out too.« (American Communists?) »Well, I couldn't say because I don't really know anything about them.

I don't hold the United States blameless. I think we have lots of faults. We talk now as though we had always hated war and tried to stop this one. That isn't true. There were ways to stop this war if they had wanted to. I remember when Mussolini moved on Ethiopia. I always think of that as the real beginning of this war. And we were not interested in stopping that. My husband doesn't like me to criticize the United States.«

 

The frequent interspersion of this statement with reference to disagreements with her husband, from whom she is »very much different politically« and with whom she has »terrible arguments« leads us to assume that her »progressive« political views in areas apparently not highly affect-laden by her are rationalizations of her strong resentment of the man of whom she says »I don't think we can live for ourselves alone.« One is tempted to hypothesize that she wants him to get mad at her when she speaks in favor of Russia. In her case, the broad-mindedness and rationality of surface opinion seems to be conditioned by strong underlying, repressed irrationalities:

 

Interviewer did not have much success with very personal data. She turned aside questions that came close to her deeper feelings. There was no depth to the discussion of her husband.

 

When it comes, however, to political topics which, for some reason unexplored in the interview, really mean something to this subject, she forgets all about her own rationality and gives vent to her vindictiveness though with a bad conscience, as evidenced by her previously quoted statement (Chapter XVI)^[7] that she is »not very proud« of her anti-Semitic bias.

M 320, of the University Extension Testing Class, is a low- scoring man, hesitant, apologetic, shy, and unaggressive. He wants to become a landscape architect. His political views are consciously liberal and definitely nonprejudiced. He struggles to maintain his liberalism continuously, but this is not easy for him with regard to certain political matters, his impulses in many instances disavowing what he states. He begins with the typical low scorer's statement:

 

»I am afraid I don't have as many ideas about politics and government as I should, but I think – a lot of people are more liberal now than they have been recently. Possibly some like the change that is taking place in England – I don't know.«

 

He first takes a mildly anti-strike attitude:

 

»I don't know, I cannot see that, as just a straight demand, without taking into consideration the company and its ties and all that. I have not read much about that but ... in a large company ... maybe they might be able to take it, all right, but in little shops ... and if it did go through, and even if it did not have disastrous (effects) on business closing ... price rises would make it come out even anyway. I guess I am really not in favor of strikes but I can see it just about. ...«

 

Then he talks himself into a more definite stand against strikes, introduced by the still democratic »getting together« formula.

 

»They ought to get together and give, maybe, a 20 per cent or 30 per cent raise, then maybe kinda split it ... and these strikes ... just start at the wrong end ... because if the strike is settled ... they still have to come to some sort of agreement ... and it's gonna be forced and men'll be driven ... I guess human nature just is not that way but. ...«

 

The last statement, rather confused, actually belongs to the high-scorer pattern concerning the inherent badness of human nature (cf. Chapter VII).^[8]

After he has made this turn, he goes on with the usual high scorer's condemnation of PAC, government control, etc., and ends up with an ambivalent statement about minimum wage-hour legislation:

 

»Well, things like that I guess if – I guess they are necessary – I guess maybe I am an idealist – I don't think there should have been a minimum wage law because I think the employer should pay his employee a living wage and if he cannot pay that, well, the person does not have to work there but if the employer cannot pay that, he is not going to stay in business. ...«

 

It is the general trend rather than any specific statement which bears witness to the wish to be politically progressive and the very definite changes of mind as soon as concrete issues are raised. This man's »political instincts« – if this term is allowed – are against his official progressiveness. One might well infer from this observation that one can differentiate better between political potentials by looking at deeper psychological impulses than by looking at avowed ideology.

Something similar can be observed with the medium-scoring man M 118, of the Extension Psychology Class group, a registered Democrat. He was middle on A-S but low on F and low-middle on E. It is the interviewer's impression that he is potentially »low« but that certain personality factors prevent him from going all the way. The exceptional aspect about him may well be explained through the conflict between different opinional layers. In terms of »big« and comparatively abstract political issues, he comes out with a »progressive« statement.

 

»There is a trend toward socialism, I don't know how modified. The conflict between labor and business will probably be mediated by the government. The government will probably hold the balance of power in labor-business conflicts. The emphasis now is on free enterprise but that often results in monopoly, the big concerns squeezing the little guys to death. There is too much of a gap between the rich and the poor. People climb up by pushing others down, with no regulation. For this reason, government should have more influence, economically, whether or not it goes as far as socialism.«

 

The interviewer happened to ride with the subject from Berkeley to San Francisco and continued the discussion in a more informal, unofficial way, touching the subject matter of unionism. In this context a classic example of the gap between official ideology and political thinking in terms of one's own immediate interests occurred:

 

He thinks the C.I.O. is better than the A.F. of L. and he thinks that unions ought to extend their functions even more in political and educational and higher management brackets, but he himself won't join the Federal Workers Union which he would be eligible to join because he feels they are not enough concerned with the problems of the higher level incomes, that they are too much interested in keeping the wages of the poorer groups above a certain minimum. He wishes they would be concerned with promotions and upgrading and developing good criteria by which people could be promoted.

 

The Canadian M 934, again a »medium« of the Public Speaking Class, is studying to become a minister. He calls himself »very far over on the left wing« but qualifies this immediately by the statement:

 

»... I'm of a practical nature and I would not vote for the socialists ... especially if I thought they would get in.«

 

To him, the practical is irreconcilable with socialism. The latter is all right as an idea, as a stimulant, as it were, but heaven forbid that it should materialize.

 

»I would vote ... only to maintain socialist opposition ... to keep the existing government from going too far to the right ... but don't think they have the experience to ... put their socialist program into effect ... and I think their program has to be modified.«

 

He praises the British Labour Government but actually only because it has not carried through a socialist program, an abstinence interpreted by the interviewee as a sign of »political experience.«

 

»Well ... I think they were ready for the job ... aren't trying to change social order in one fell swoop ... I think that is an evidence of their maturity.«

 

This subject wants to be endowed with the prestige of a leftwing intellectual while at the same time, as an empirical being, he is manifestly afraid of a concrete materialization of ideas to which he subscribes in the abstract.

It is hardly accidental that in these cases the overt ideology is always progressive, the real opinion of an opposite character. This would seem to have something to do with established democracy in this country, which makes the expression of democratic ideas the thing to be done, while the opposite is, in a certain way, unorthodox. There is reason to believe that the fascist potential today shows itself largely in the maintenance of traditional ideas which may be called either liberal or conservative, whereas the underlying »political instinct,« fed largely by unconscious forces of the personality, is completely different. This will be elaborated in the following section.

4. Pseudoconservatism

 

Our analysis of the questionnaire findings on PEC (Chapter V)^[9] has led to a differentiation between those who are high on PEC but low on E, and those who are high on both. This distinction was interpreted in terms of genuine and pseudoconservatives, the former supporting not only capitalism in its liberal, individualistic form but also those tenets of traditional Americanism which are definitely antirepressive and sincerely democratic, as indicated by an unqualified rejection of antiminority prejudices. Our interview material allows us to give more relief to this construct and also to qualify it in certain respects. Before we go into some details of the pseudoconservative's ideology, we should stress that our assumption of a pseudoconservative pattern of ideology is in agreement with the total trend of our psychological findings. The idea is that the potentially fascist character, in the specific sense given to this concept through our studies, is not only on the overt level but throughout the make-up of his personality a pseudoconservative rather than a genuine conservative. The psychological structure that corresponds to pseudoconservatism is conventionality and authoritarian submissiveness on the ego level, with violence, anarchic impulses, and chaotic destructiveness in the unconscious sphere. These contradictory trends are borne out particularly in those sections of our study where the range between the two poles of the unconscious and the conscious is widest, above all, where the T[hematic] A[pperception] T[est] is considered in relation to the clinical parts of the interviews. Traits such as authoritarian aggressiveness and vindictiveness may be regarded as intermediary between these antagonistic trends of the prejudiced personality. When turning to ideology which belongs in the context of psychological determinants here under discussion, to the realm of rationalization, it should be remembered that rationalizations of »forbidden« impulses, such as the drive for destruction, never completely succeed. While rationalization emasculates those urges which are subject to taboos, it does not make them disappear completely but allows them to express themselves in a »tolerable,« modified, indirect way, conforming to the social requirements which the ego is ready to accept. Hence even the overt ideology of pseudoconservative persons is by no means unambiguously conservative, as they would have us believe, not a mere reaction-formation against underlying rebelliousness; rather, it indirectly admits the very same destructive tendencies which are held at bay by the individual's rigid identification with an externalized superego. This break-through of the nonconservative element is enhanced by certain supra-individual changes in today's ideology in which traditional values, such as the inalienable rights of each human being, are subject to a rarely articulate but nevertheless very severe attack by ascendent forces of crude repression, of virtual condemnation of anything that is deemed weak. There is reason to believe that those developmental tendencies of our society which point into the direction of some more or less fascist, state capitalist organization bring to the fore formerly hidden tendencies of violence and discrimination in ideology. All fascist movements officially employ traditional ideas and values but actually give them an entirely different, antihumanistic meaning. The reason that the pseudoconservative seems to be such a characteristically modern phenomenon is not that any new psychological element has been added to this particular syndrome, which was probably established during the last four centuries, but that objective social conditions make it easier for the character structure in question to express itself in its avowed opinions. It is one of the unpleasant results of our studies, which has to be faced squarely, that this process of social acceptance of pseudoconservatism has gone a long way – that it has secured an indubitable mass basis. In the opinions of a number of representative high scorers, ideas both of political conservatism and traditional liberalism are frequently neutralized and used as a mere cloak for repressive and ultimately destructive wishes. The pseudoconservative is a man who, in the name of upholding traditional American values and institutions and defending them against more or less fictitious dangers, consciously or unconsciously aims at their abolition.

The pattern of pseudoconservatism is unfolded in the interviewer's description of M 109, another high-scoring man, a semifascist parole officer:

 

On his questionnaire, this man writes down »Republican« as the political party of his preference, and then scratches it out. He agrees with the anti-New Deal Democrats and the Willkie-type Republicans and disagrees with the New Deal Democrats and the traditional Republicans. This is cleared up in his interview when he says that the party does not mean anything, the candidate is the thing.¹⁰

Asked what is his conception of the Willkie-type Republican, he says he thinks of the Willkie supporters as the same as the Dewey supporters. Big business favored both Willkie and Dewey.

The score 67 on PEC is high-middle. An examination of the individual items seems to show that he is not a true conservative in the sense of the rugged individual. True, he agrees with most of the PEC items, going to plus 3 on the Child-should-learn-the-value-of-the-dollar and the Morgan and Ford items, but marking most of the others plus 1 or plus 2, but, be it noted, he does not agree that depressions are like headaches, that businessmen are more important than artists and professors; and he believes the government should guarantee everybody an income, that there should be increased taxes on corporations and wealthy individuals, and that socialized medicine would be a good thing. He goes to plus 3 on the last item. Thus, it appears that he favors some kind of social function on the part of the government, but believes that the control should be in the proper hands. This is cleared up by the interview. Before becoming a policeman 6¹/₂ years ago, this man was in the hospital insurance business. He says he had first to battle with the A.M.A., who did not favor any kind of medical insurance; and later he thought it wise to give up the business because state medicine was in the offing.

 

In summing up his position concerning medical insurance, he says:

 

»I like the collectiveness of it, but believe private business could do it better than the government. The doctors have butchered the thing and the politicians would do worse. People need this sort of thing and I like it in theory if it is run right.«

 

Thus it becomes clear, according to the interviewer, that he has some kind of collectivistic value system but believes that the control should be in the hands of the group with whom he can identify himself. This is clearly the Ford and Morgan sort of group rather than labor unions which he opposes.

The decisive thing about this man is that he has, in spite of his general reactionism and his all-pervasive ideas of power – which are evidenced by most of the other sections of the interview – socialistic leanings. This, however, does not refer to socialism in the sense of nationalizing the means of production but to his outspoken though inarticulate wish that the system of free enterprise and competition should be replaced by a state-capitalist integration where the economically strongest group, that is to say, heavy industry, takes control and organizes the whole life process of society without further interference by democratic dissension or by groups whom he regards as being in control only on account of the process of formal democracy, but not on the basis of the »legitimate« real economic power behind them.

This »socialist,« or rather, pseudosocialist, element of pseudoconservatism, actually defined only by antiliberalism, serves as the democratic cloak for antidemocratic wishes. Formal democracy seems to this kind of thinking to be too far away from »the people,« and the people will have their rights only if the »inefficient« democratic processes are substituted by some rather ill-defined strong-arm system.

M 651A, another high-scoring man, a San Quentin prisoner, convicted of first-degree murder, is a good example of pseudodemocratism as a particular aspect of pseudoconservatism.

 

(What do you think of political trends today?) »We have got a persecutor in California for governor ... don't put that in. They call it a democracy ... democracy is the best type of government but (inefficient). ...«

 

Subject criticizes President Roosevelt strongly, especially his NRA. He mentions his father's being pushed out of a job partly because of NRA, but he appears to be a little confused in this reference:

 

»Democracy is good when it is used right. I believe that too few people control the money in the country. I don't believe in communism ... but there is so many little people who never have anything. ...«

Subject mentioned his grandmother's only receiving $30 a month pension which, he says, she cannot live on ... law ought to be changed in that respect ... subject emphasizes the need of extending old-age insurance to people too old to benefit by recent legislation ...¹¹

 

An exceedingly serious dynamics is involved here. It cannot be disputed that formal democracy, under the present economic system, does not suffice to guarantee permanently, to the bulk of the population, satisfaction of the most elementary wants and needs, whereas at the same time the democratic form of government is presented as if – to use a favorite phrase of our subjects – it were as close to an ideal society as it could be. The resentment caused by this contradiction is turned by those who fall to recognize its economic roots against the form of democracy itself. Because it does not fulfill what it promises, they regard it as a »swindle« and are ready to exchange it for a system which sacrifices all claims to human dignity and justice, but of which they expect vaguely some kind of a guarantee of their lives by better planning and organization. Even the most extreme concept of the tradition of American democracy is summoned by the pseudoconservative way of political thinking: the concept of revolution. However, it has become emasculated. There is only a vague idea of violent change, without any concrete reference to the people's aims involved – moreover, of a change which has in common with revolution only the aspect of a sudden and violent break but otherwise looks rather like an administrative measure. This is the spiteful, rebellious yet intrinsically passive idea which became famous after the former Prince of Wales visited the distressed areas of North England: the idea that »something should be done about it.« It occurs literally in the interview of the high-scoring woman, F 105, a 37-year-old crippled, frustrated housewife with strong paranoid traits. She had voted for Roosevelt every time because »I just decided I'd be a Democrat.« Asked why, she continues as follows:

 

»I don't know. I'm just primarily against capitalism, and the Republicans are capitalistic. The Democrats have tried to give the working class a break. Father has voted for [Norman M.] Thomas for years. He thinks eventually the world will come to that. But he's never made an issue of it.« (Are your ideals a reflection of his attitude?) »Oh, it could be. I'm not conscious of it. I voted as soon as I was able to. (What do you think will happen after the war?) Probably the Republicans will be in again. I think the American public is a very changing type. Probably I'll change too. The world's in such a chaotic mess, something should be done. We're going to have to learn to live with one another, the whole world.«

 

The phoniness of this subject's supposed progressiveness comes out in the section on minorities where she proves to be a rabid anti-Semite.

In order to guess the significance of the dull wish of this woman for a radical change it has to be confronted with the stand another pseudoconservative takes, the violently anti-Semitic San Quentin inmate, M 661 A, a robber. He plays, according to the interviewer, the bored décadent satiated with »too much experience« and derives from this attitude a fake aristocratic ideology which serves as a pretext for violent oppression of those whom he deems weak. He pays »very little attention to politics, except that I think we are headed for communism, and I am thumbs down on it.« Asked why, he comes forward with the following confession:

 

»For one thing, I have never forgiven the Russians for the revolution. ... I consider them murders and not assassinations and I haven't forgiven Russia any more than I have forgiven France for her revolution, or Mexico ... in other words, I still believe in the Old Order and I believe we were happiest under Hoover and should have kept him. I think I would have had more money under him too and I don't believe in inheritance taxes. If I earn $100,000 by the sweat of my brow, I ought to be able to leave it to whomever I please. I guess I really don't believe that all men are created free and equal.«

 

While he still accepts the traditional critique of government interference in the name of rugged individualism, he would favor such government control if it were exercised by the strong. Here the criminal is in complete agreement with the aforementioned (p. [362]) parole officer, M 109:

 

(What about government controls over business?) »I half-approve. I certainly think that somebody should be over. ... I believe in government control because it makes it less of – I really don't believe in democracy; if we know somebody's at the helm, we can't have revolutions and things. But I have never read much on politics and I don't think I have a right to say much.«

 

That the idea of the »right people« is actually behind M 661A's political philosophy is shown by his explanation of why he objects to all revolutions:

 

»They overthrow the established order ... and they are always made by people who never had anything. ... I've never seen a communist who came from the right strata of society. ... I did read George Bernard Shaw's (book on socialism).«

 

One may differentiate between two kinds of pseudoconservatives: those who profess to believe in democracy and are actually antidemocratic, and those who call themselves conservative while surreptitiously indulging in subversive wishes. This differentiation, however, is somewhat rationalistic. It does not amount to much, either in terms of psychological motivations or of actual political decision. It seems to pertain merely to thin rationalizations: the core of the phenomenon is both times identical. The just-quoted 661A belongs to the pseudoconservative group in the narrower sense and so does M 105, a pre-law student high on all scales, who stresses his conservative background while admitting overt fascist leanings:

 

»Naturally, I get my Republican sentiments from my parents. But recently I have read more for myself, and I agree with them. ... We are a conservative family. We hate anything to do with socialism. My father regretted that he voted for F.D.R. in 1932. Father wrote to Senator Reynolds of South Carolina about the Nationalist Party. It's not America First, it's not really isolationist, but we believe that our country is being sold down the river.«

 

The overt link between father-fixation as discussed in the clinical chapters (Part II)^[12] and authoritarian persuasions in politics should be stressed. He uses a phrase familiar with fascists when they were faced with the defeat of Germany and the German system and yet somehow wished to cling to their negative Utopia.

 

»America is fighting the war but we will lose the peace if we win the war. I can't see what I can possibly get out of it.«

 

Conversely, a striking example of pseudodemocratism in the narrower sense is offered at the beginning of the political section of the interview of the high-scoring man M 108, a strongly fascistic student of insect toxicology, discussed in the chapter on typology as representative of the extreme »manipulative« syndrome. He is against Roosevelt, against the New Deal, and against practically any social humanitarian idea. At the next moment, however, he says he did feel that he was »somewhat of a socialist.«

This is literally the pattern by which the German Nazis denounced the Weimar Republic in the name of authority unchecked by democratic control, exalted the sacredness of private property, and simultaneously inserted the word socialist into the vernacular of their own party. It is obvious that this kind of »socialism,« which actually amounts merely to the curtailment of individual liberties in the name of some ill-defined collectivity, blends very well with the desire for authoritarian control as expressed by those who style themselves as conservatives. Here the overt incompatibility between private interests (what he »gets out of it«) and objective political logic (the certainty of an Allied victory) is by hook and crook put into the service of profascist postwar defeatism. No matter how it goes, democracy must lose. Psychologically, the destructive »impending doom« pattern is involved.

This defeatism is characteristic of another trait of pseudoconservative political philosophy: sympathy with the fascist enemy, Hitler's Germany. This is easily rationalized as humane magnanimity and even as the democratic wish to give everybody a fair deal. It is the fifth-column mentality on which Hitlerian propaganda in democratic countries drew heavily before the war and which has by no means been uprooted.

M 106, a College student high on all scales, fairly rational in many respects, seems at first sight to be critical of Germany. By tracing grandiloquently the sources of German fascism to supposedly profound historical roots, largely invented themselves by fascist propaganda, however, he slips into an apologetic attitude:

 

»German people have always been aggressive, have loved parades, have always had a big army. They received an unfair peace after the last war. The treaty of Versailles was obviously unfair to them, and because they were hard up, they were willing to listen to a young man like Hitler when he came along. If there had been a better peace, there'd be no trouble now. Hitler came along with promises, and people were willing to go for him. They had huge unemployment, inflation, and so on.«

 

The legend of the »unjust« treaty of Versailles must feed on tremendous psychological resources – unconscious guilt feelings against the established symbol of prowess – in non-German countries: otherwise it could not have survived the Hitlerian war. That this subject's explanations of Hitler really mean sympathy is evidenced by a subsequent statement on Hitler's policy of exterminating the Jews, already quoted in Chapter XVI^[13].

 

»Well, Hitler, carried things just a little too far. There was some justification – some are bad, but not all. But Hitler went on the idea that a rotten apple in the barrel will spoil all the rest of them.«

 

Still, even this subject clings to the democratic cloak and refrains from overt fascism. Asked about the Jews in this country he answers:

 

»Same problem but it's handled much better, because we're a democratic country.«

 

While pseudoconservatism is, of course, predominantly a trait of high scorers, it is by no means lacking among low scorers. This pertains particularly to the apologetic attitude toward the Nazis. Thus, F 113, a woman low on prejudice though high on F, a young student of mathematics, calls herself »rather conservative.« Her »official« ideology is set against bigotry. But referring to her Irish descent, she resents the English and this leads her to pro-German statements which, in harmony with her F score, more than merely hint at underlying fascist leanings:

 

»I am prejudiced against England. England gave a dirty deal to the Irish people. England says the Nazis are black and Russia is white, but I think England is black. She goes around conquering people and is not just at all; and I am opposed to Russia. It is true that they took up the cause of the people, but on the whole they are not right, and their type of government is inferior to ours.« (What about the Nazis?) »The Germans lost everything; they just got hopeless. I don't believe in dividing Germany just in order to make Russia and England richer. It isn't true that Germany started the war – for war two people are necessary. It is not fair to put all the burden on one nation. The Germans will only feel more persecuted and fight more. One should leave the Germans to themselves. There is much too much emphasis on how cruel the Nazis are. The Germans did not have a just peace. We can't put our own Nazi regime in to run the Germans. The Russians will cause the next war. The devastation in Germany has been just too great. I am pessimistic because people believe that everybody is bad who is down, and those are good who are strong, and the strong ones cut in pieces the one who is down, and they are just practical and not just.«

 

The decisive shift occurs when the subject, after demanding »fairness« with regard to the problem of war guilt, protests against »too much emphasis« on Nazi atrocities.

 

EXCURSUS ON THE MEANING OF PSEUDOCONSERVATISM. The introduction of the term pseudoconservative which may often be replaced by pseudoliberal and even pseudoprogressive, necessitates a brief theoretical discussion of what is »pseudo« about the subjects in question and whether and to what extent the notion of genuine political ideologies can be upheld. All these terms have to be handled with the utmost caution and should never be hypostatized. The distinction between pseudo and genuine political ideologies has been introduced mainly in order to avoid the pitfall of oversimplification, of identifying the prejudiced person, and the prospective fascist in general, with »reactionism.« It has been established beyond any doubt that fascism in terms of efficient organization and technological achievement has many »progressive« features. Moreover, it has been recognized long before our study that the general idea of »preserving the American way of living,« as soon as it assumes the features of vigilantism, hides violently aggressive and destructive tendencies which pertain both to overt political manifestations and to character traits. However, it has to be emphasized that the idea of the genuineness of an attitude or of behavior set against its »overplaying,« is somehow as problematic as that of, say, normality. Whether a person is a genuine or a pseudoconservative in overt political terms can be decided only in critical situations when he has to decide on his actions. As far as the distinction pertains to psychological determinants, it has to be relativized. Since all our psychological urges are permeated by identifications of all levels and types, it is impossible ever completely to sever the »genuine« from what is »imitation.« It would be obviously nonsensical to call ungenuine those traits of a person which are based on the identification with his father. The idea of an absolute individual per se, completely identical with itself and with nothing else, is an empty abstraction. There is no psychological borderline between the genuine and the »assumed.« Nor can the relation between the two ever be regarded as a static one. Today's pseudoconservative may become the genuine conservative of tomorrow.

In the light of these considerations, it will be of some methodological importance to formulate the distinction between »genuine« and »pseudo« with care. The simplest procedure, of course, would be to define both concepts operationally in terms of cluster relationships of the questionnaire and also of the interviews. One would have to call roughly pseudoconservative those who show blatant contradictions between their acceptance of all kinds of conventional and traditional values – by no means only in the political sphere – and their simultaneous acceptance of the more destructive clusters of the F scale, such as cynicism, punitiveness, and violent anti-Semitism. Yet, this procedure is somewhat arbitrary and mechanical. At its best, it would define the terms but never help to understand their implicit etiology. It would be more satisfactory to base the distinction on a psychological hypothesis that makes sense. An hypothesis that might serve is one that takes as its point of departure the differentiation between successful or unsuccessful identification. This would imply that the »genuine« conservative characters would be those who essentially or at least temporarily succeeded in their identification with authoritarian patterns without considerable carry-overs of their emotional conflicts – without strong ambivalence and destructive countertendencies. Conversely, the »pseudo« traits are characteristic of those whose authoritarian identification succeeded only on a superficial level. They are forced to overdo it continuously in order to convince themselves and the others that they belong, to quote the revolution-hater of San Quentin, to the right strata of society. The stubborn energy which they employ in order to accept conformist values constantly threatens to shatter these values themselves, to make them turn into their opposite, just as their »fanatical« eagerness to defend God and Country makes them join lunatic fringe rackets and sympathize with the enemies of their country.

Even this distinction, however, can claim only limited validity and is subject to psychological dynamics. We know from Freud that the identification with the father is always of a precarious nature and even in the »genuine« cases, where it seems to be well established, it may break down under the impact of a situation which substitutes the paternal superego by collectivized authority of the fascist brand.

Yet, with all these qualifications, the distinction still can claim some justification under present conditions. It may be permissible to contrast the pseudoconservatives so far discussed with a »genuine« conservative taken from the Los Angeles sample which, as pointed out in Chapter I, included – in contrast to the Berkeley sample – a number of actual or self-styled members of the upper class.

F 5008 is low on E, middle on F, and high on PEC. She is a woman of old American stock, a direct descendant of Jefferson. She is apparently free of any vindictive sense of her social status and lays no emphasis on her good family or on her being a real member of the »right strata of society.« She is definitely nonprejudiced. Her T.A.T. shows traits of a somewhat neurotic overoptimism which may or may not be a product of reaction-formation. One might venture that the »genuine« conservatives who still survive and whose number is probably shrinking, may develop an increasingly bad conscience because they become aware of the rapid development of important conservative layers of American society into the direction of labor baiting and race hatred. The more this tendency increases, the more the »genuine« conservative seems to feel compelled to profess democratic ideals, even if they are somewhat incompatible with his own upbringing and psychological patterns. If this observation could be generalized, it would imply that the »genuine« conservatives are more and more driven into the liberal camp by today's social dynamics. This may help to explain why it is so hard to find any striking examples for genuine conservatism among high scorers.

If our assumption is correct, that pseudoconservatism is based – as far as its psychological aspect is concerned – on incomplete identification, it becomes understandable why it is linked to a trait which also plays a considerable role within the pattern of conventionality: identification with higher social groups. The identification that failed is probably in most cases that with the father. Those people in whom this failure does not result in any real antagonism to authority, who accept the authoritarian pattern without, however, internalizing it, are likely to be those who identify themselves sociologically with higher social groups. This would be in harmony with the fact that the fascist movement in Germany drew heavily on frustrated middle-class people of all kinds: of those who had lost their economic basis without being ready to admit their being déclassé; of those who did not see any chances for themselves but the shortcut of joining a powerful movement which promised them jobs and ultimately a successful war. This socioeconomic aspect of pseudoconservatism is often hard to distinguish from the psychological one. To the prospective fascist his social identification is as precarious as that with the father. At the social root of this phenomenon is probably the fact that to rise by the means of »normal« economic competition becomes increasingly difficult, so that people who want to »make it« – which leads back to the psychological situation – are forced to seek other ways in order to be admitted into the ruling group. They must look for a kind of »cooptation,« somewhat after the fashion of those who want to be admitted to a smart club. Snobbery, so violently denounced by the fascist, probably for reasons of projection, has been democratized and is part and parcel of their own mental make-up: who wants to make a »career« must really rely on »pull and climbing« rather than on individual merit in business or the professions. Identification with higher groups is the presupposition for climbing, or at least appears so to the outsider, whereas the »genuine« conservative group is utterly allergic to it. However, the man who often, in accordance with the old Horatio Alger ideology, maintains his own »upward social mobility« draws from it at least some narcissistic gratifications and felicitously anticipates internally a status which he ultimately hopes to attain in reality.

Here two examples of high scorers may be quoted, both again taken from the Los Angeles group.

5006, an extreme high scorer on all scales, one of the few of our interviewees who actually admitted that they want to kill the Jews (see his interview in Chapter XVI, p. [307, above]), is the grandson of a dentist, whereas his father failed to become one, and he hopes fervently to regain the grandfather's social status. As to the problem of failure in identification, it is significant in this case that the image of the father is replaced by that of the grandfather – just as the idea of »having seen better times,« of a good family background clouded over by recent economic developments, played a large role with the prefascist, postinflation generation in Germany.

5013, who is also extremely high on all scales, describes her father as a doctor, whereas he is actually a chiropractor – a habit which seems to be largely shared by the chiropractors themselves. If the German example teaches anything and if our concept of semierudition proves to be correct, one may expect that nonacademic »scientists« and »doctors« are strongly attracted by the fascist platform.¹⁴

5. The Usurpation Complex

 

The goal toward which the pseudoconservative mentality strives – diffusedly and semiconsciously – is to establish a dictatorship of the economically strongest group. This is to be achieved by means of a mass movement, one which promises security and privileges to the so-called »little man« (that is to say, worried members of the middle and lower middle class who still cling to their status and their supposed independence), if they join with the right people at the right time. This wish appears throughout pseudoconservative ideology in mirrored reflection. Government by representation is accused of perverting democracy. Roosevelt and the New Deal particularly are said to have usurped power and to have entrenched themselves dictatorially. Thus pseudoconservatives accuse the progressives of the very thing which they would like to do, and they utilize their indictment as a pretext for »throwing the rascals out.« They call for a defense of democracy against its »abuses« and would, through attacking the »abuses,« ultimately abolish democracy altogether. Pseudoconservative ideology harmonizes completely with psychological projectivity.

One may well ask why people so concerned with power, if they really see the Roosevelt policy as a strong-armed dictatorship, do not endorse it and feel happy about it. The reasons, it would seem, are several. First, the social types representative of pseudoconservatism are not or do not regard themselves as beneficiaries of the New Deal. It appears to them as a government for the unemployed and for labor; and even if they themselves received some benefits from WPA or the closed shop, they are resentful about it because this demonstrates to them what they are least willing to admit: that their belonging to the middle classes has lost its economic foundation. Second, to them, the Roosevelt administration never was really strong enough. They sense very well the degree to which the New Deal was handicapped by the Supreme Court and by Congress; they know or have an inkling of the concessions Roosevelt had to make – he had to give conspicuous jobs to several men opposed to his political line, e.g., Jesse Jones; they cry »dictator« because they realize that the New Deal was no dictatorship at all and that it did not fit within the authoritarian pattern of their over-all ideology. Thirdly, their idea of the strong man, no matter in what glowing personalized terms it may be expressed, is colored by an image of real strength: the backing of the most powerful industrial groups. To them, progressives in the government are real usurpers, not so much because they have acquired by shrewd and illegal manipulation rights incompatible with American democracy, but rather because they assume a power position which should be reserved for the »right people.« Pseudoconservatives have an underlying sense of »legitimacy«: legitimate rulers are those who are actually in command of the machinery of production – not those who owe their ephemeral power to formal political processes. This last motif, which also plays a heavy role in the prehistory of German fascism, is to be taken the more seriously because it does not altogether contradict social reality. As long as democracy is really a formal system of political government which made, under Roosevelt, certain inroads into economic fields but never touched upon the economic fundamentals, it is true that the life of the people depends on the economic organization of the country and, in the last analysis, on those who control American industry, more than on the chosen representatives of the people. Pseudoconservatives sense an element of untruth in the idea of »their« democratic government, and realize that they do not really determine their fate as social beings by going to the polls. Resentment of this state of affairs, however, is not directed against the dangerous contradiction between economic inequality and formal political equality but against the democratic form as such. Instead of trying to give to this form its adequate content, they want to do away with the form of democracy itself and to bring about the direct control of those whom they deem the most powerful anyway.

This background of the dictatorship idea, that democracy is no reality under prevailing conditions, may be evidenced by two quotations from medium-scoring men. M 1223h follows up his statement that the Democrats are going communistic and that the unions should be curbed, by the statement, »The people aren't running the country.«

M 1225a speaks cautiously about democracy: »It's supposed to be a government of the people by representation.«

Asked whether we had it in this country he answers bluntly: No, but qualifies this immediately with the statement – a pretty standardized one – »We have as close to it as there is.«

Similarly, M 1223h qualifies his critique by the contention that »America is still fairly democratic but going away from democracy too fast.«

The contradictory utterances of these two men, apart from wishful thinking, indicate that they are perturbed by the antagonism between formal political democracy and actual social control. They just reach the point where they see this antagonism. They did not dare, however, to explain it but rather retract their own opinions in order not to become »unrealistic.« Conformism works as a brake on their political thinking.

A few examples of the usurpation fantasy proper follow.

M 208, who obtained a middle score on E and F and a high score on PEC, insists, according to his interviewer,

 

that President Roosevelt lost the popular vote by several thousand votes, according to counts he and his rather made following the news reports over the radio, implying that the official count had been incorrect.

 

While this man is for »initiative and competition, against government bungling and inefficiencies,« he has boundless confidence in social control exercised by the proper organization:

 

»The best organizations for a citizen to belong to in order to influence the conditions in his community are local Chambers of Commerce. By improving your city, you make it attractive and create wealth.« He said the San Francisco Chamber of Commerce was something he belonged to and his organization would send out postcards very soon to every single individual in the city in a huge membership drive.

 

M 656, a high-scoring prison inmate (grand theft and forgery), was interviewed shortly after President Roosevelt's death and when asked what he regarded as the greatest danger facing this country, said

 

»the government we just had, the one that brought on the war, the Nazi-dictatorship.«

 

The high-scoring man M 108, the aforementioned insect toxicologist, is convinced that Roosevelt only carried out [Herbert] Hoover's ideas, a statement not infrequent among prejudiced subjects who regard the New Deal as usurpation in so far as it has »stolen« its ideas from its opponents. Asked further about Roosevelt, he goes on:

 

»he usurped power that was necessary to do something – he took a lot more power than a lot. ... He has been in too long, and there were deals on the fire that we don't know about with Churchill or Stalin.«

 

In the end the usurper idea coincides with that of the conspirator who makes »secret deals« detrimental to his country.

The frequency and intensity of the usurper idea, together with the fantastic nature of many of the pertinent assertions in our material justifies our calling it a »complex,« that is to say, looking for a widespread and stable psychological configuration on which this idea feeds. As far as we know, no attention has been given to this complex in psychological literature, though the frequency of usurpation conflicts throughout occidental drama warrants the assumption that there must be some deep-rooted basis in instinctual dynamics for it. Suffice it to recollect that Shakespeare's most famous tragedies: Hamlet, King Lear, Macbeth, Julius Caesar, and Richard III deal in one way or the other with usurpation, and that the usurper theme runs as a red thread through the whole dramatic work of Schiller, from Franz Moor in the »Robbers« to Demetrius. On a sociopsychological level, that is to say comparatively abstractly and superficially, an explanation is easy at hand. The existence of power and privilege, demanding sacrifices of all those who do not share in its advantages, provokes resentment and hurts deeply the longing for equality and justice evolved throughout the history of our culture. In the depth of his heart, everyone regards any privilege as illegitimate. Yet one is forced continuously, in order to get along in the world as it is, to adjust oneself to the system of power relationships that actually defines this world. This process has been going on over the ages, and its results have become part and parcel of today's personalities. This means that people have learned to repress their resentment of privilege and to accept as legitimate just that which is suspected of being illegitimate. But since human sufferings from the survival of privilege have never ceased, adjustment to it has never become complete. Hence the prevailing attitude towards privileges is essentially ambivalent. While it is being accepted consciously, the underlying resentment is displaced unconsciously. This is done in such a way that a kind of emotional compromise between our forced acceptance of the existence of power, and resistance against it, is reached. Resentment is shifted from the »legitimate« representatives of power to those who want to take it away from them, who identify themselves, in their aims, with power but violate, at the same time, the code of existent power relations. The ideal object of this shift is the political usurper in whom one can denounce »greed for power« while at the same time taking a positive stand with regard to established power. Still, sympathy with the usurper survives at the bottom. It is the conflict between this sympathy and our displaced aggressiveness which qualifies him for dramatic conflict.

There is reason to believe, however, that this line of thought does not fully explain the usurper complex. Much more deep-lying, archaic mechanisms seem to be involved. As a rule, the usurper complex is linked with the problem of the family. The usurper is he who claims to be the member of a family to which he does not belong, or at least to pretend to rights due to another family. It may be noted that even in the Oedipus legend, the usurper complex is involved in so far as Oedipus believes himself to be the real child of his foster-parents, and this error accounts for his tragic entanglement. We venture, with all due reservation, the hypothesis that this has something to do with an observation that can be made not infrequently: that people are afraid of not really being the children of their parents. This fear may be based on the dim awareness that the order of the family, which stands for civilization in the form in which we know it, is not identical with »nature« – that our biological origin does not coincide with the institutional framework of marriage and monogamy, that »the stork brings us from the pond.« We sense that the shelter of civilization is not safe, that the house of the family is built on shaky ground. We project our uneasiness upon the usurper, the image of him who is not his parents' child, who becomes psychologically a kind of ritualized, institutional »victim« whose annihilation is unconsciously supposed to bring us rest and security. It may very well be that our tendency to »look for the usurper« has its origin in psychological resources as deep as those here suggested.

6. F.D.R.

 

The usurpation complex is focused on Roosevelt, whose name evokes the sharpest differences between high and low scorers that are to be found in the interview material on politico-economic topics.

It hardly needs to be said that all the statements touching upon the late president are personalized. The political issues involved appear mainly as qualities of the man himself. He is criticized and praised because he is this or that, not because he stands for this or that. The most drastic accusation is that of war-monger. This accusation often assumes the form of those conspiracy fantasies which are so highly characteristic of the usurper complex.

The high-scoring man M 664c, serving a San Quentin term of one year for forgery and check writing, professes to have been originally pro-Roosevelt.

 

»Hell, at that (election) I was strong for Roosevelt, we had an awful depression, one thing he'd done for that state he put that dam there. ... We didn't need the war though.« (Why did we get into it?) »Started sending that iron over to Japan and then helping England. ...«

 

The idea of the »red Roosevelt« belongs to the same class of objections and paranoid exaggerations of political antipathies. Though much more common among subjects who score high on E and PEC, it can sometimes be found in the statements of low scorers. Note the remarks of F 140, a young nursery school helper, rated according to her questionnaire score as low on E but high on A-S and PEC. She first refers to her father.

 

(Is your father anti-Roosevelt?) »Oh, sure he is. He just don't have any use for Roosevelt. It's all communism that is what he says.« (And what do you think about it?) »Oh, I don't know. I guess he's right. He ought to know. That's all he thinks about – politics, politics.«

 

Sometimes the suspicion that Roosevelt was a Russophile war-monger is cloaked by legalistic argumentations, such as the statement that he left the country illegally during the war.

F 101, a woman who stands high on all scales, a somewhat frustrated young college student, relates that her father is »extremely anti-Roosevelt,« and, when asked why, answers:

 

»No president is supposed to leave the country without the consent of Congress, and he goes whenever he feels like it. He is being a little too dictatorial.«

 

With regard to domestic politics, F 359, the accountant in a government department who was quoted before (Chapter XVI, p. [280]), states quite clearly and in fairly objective terms the contradiction which seems at the hub of anti-Roosevelt sentiment:

 

Subject did not like Roosevelt because of WPA. It creates a class of lazy people who would rather get $20 a week than work. She feels that Roosevelt did not accomplish what he set out to do – raise the standard of the poorer classes.

 

The conceptions of communist, internationalist, and war-monger are close to another one previously mentioned – that of the snob. Just as the fascist agitator persistently mixes up radicals and bankers, claiming that the latter financed the revolution and that the former seek financial gains, the contradictory ideas of an ultraleftist and an exclusive person alienated from the people are brought together by anti-Roosevelt sentiment. One may venture the hypothesis that the ultimate content of both objections is the same: the resentment of the frustrated middle-class person against those who represent the idea of happiness, be it by wanting other people – even the »lazy ones« – to be happy, be it that they are enjoying life themselves. This irrationality can be grasped better on the level of personality than on that of ideology.

M 1223h, of the Maritime School, with medium scores on E and PEC, but high on F, does not like Roosevelt – »a socialite; got too much power.« Similarly, the high-scoring married women F 117, 37 years old, employed in a Public Health Department,

 

feels that Roosevelt does not know how to handle money; he was born with a great deal. Now he throws it around – »millions here and millions there.«

 

This is the exact opposite of the praise of Dewey, whose more humble origin is supposed to guarantee thriftiness. The »democratic cloak« of the pseudoconservative consists, in cases like these, in the assertion that measures taken for the benefit of the people cannot be approved because the one who carried them out is not one of the people and therefore, in a way, has no right to act in their behalf – he is a usurper. Really folksy men, one might suppose, would rather let them starve.

The idea that the late President was too old and too ill, and that the New Deal was decrepit plays a particular role among anti-Roosevelt arguments. The dark forebodings about Roosevelt's death have come true. Yet, one may suspect here a psychological element: the fear of his death often rationalizes the wish for it. Moreover, the idea of his supposed old age pertains to the illegitimacy complex: he should give way to others, to the »young generation,« to fresh blood. This is in keeping with the fact that German Nazism often denounced the over-age of the representatives of the Weimar Republic, and that Italian fascism heavily emphasized the idea of youth per se. Ultimately, some light is shed on the whole complex of the President's age and illness by our clinical findings, pertaining to the tendency of our high scorers to praise physical health and vigor as the outstanding quality of their parents, particularly of the mother (pp. 340ff.).^[15] This is due to the general »externalization« of values, the anti-intraceptiveness of the prejudiced personalities who seem to be continuously afraid of illnesses. If there is an interconnection between at least some syndromes of high scorers and psychotic dispositions, one may also think of the disproportionate role played by the concern with one's own body in many schizophrenics – a phenomenon linked to the mechanisms of »depersonalization«¹⁶ which represents the extreme of the »ego-alienness« of the id characteristic of the high scoring subject. It should be remembered once again how large a role was played by ideas such as physical health, purity of the blood, and syphilophobia throughout fascist ideology.

M 104, a high scoring young man of the Public Speaking Class, who changed from studying engineering to law is an example:

 

Subject would have voted for Dewey. The whole New Deal has become very stagnant, old, and decrepit. He feels Roosevelt has done some fine things, some of his experiments were about as good a cure as you could get for the depression, but it is now time for a change in party, a new President, younger blood.

 

As in most cases, the argument has, of course, a »rational« aspect too – the Roosevelt government held office for a longer period than any other one in American history. However, the complaints about »too long« are uttered only in the name of »changing the guard,« not in the name of concrete progressive ideas which could be brought about by younger people.

Resentment against old people has a psychological aspect by which it seems to be linked to anti-Semitism. There is reason to believe that some subjects displace their hostility against the father upon aged persons and the notion of old age as such. Old people are, as it were, earmarked for death. In accordance with this pattern, the image of the Jew often bears features of the old man, thus allowing for the discharge of repressed hostility against the father. Judaism is regarded, not incidentally, as the religion of the father and Christianity that of the son. The most emphatic stereotype of the Jew, that of the inhabitant of the Eastern ghetto, bears attributes of the old, such as the beard or worn and obsolete clothes.

Hostility for the aged has, to be sure, a sociological as well as a psychological aspect: old people who cannot work any more are regarded as useless and are, therefore, rejected. But this idea, like those just discussed, has little immediate bearing upon the person of Roosevelt; rather, they are transferred to him after aggression has turned against him. The universally ambivalent role of the President as a father figure thus makes itself felt.

As to those who are in favor of Roosevelt, there are two clear-cut main motifs which are almost the reverse of those found in the Roosevelt haters. The man »who thinks too much of himself and assumes dictatorial powers« is now praised as a great personality; the leftist and initiator of the New Deal is loved as a friend of the underdog.

The »great personality« motif appears in the statement of the low-scoring man, M 711, an interviewer in government employment, with many of the typical »low« characteristics of mildness, gentleness, and indecision.

 

(Roosevelt) »seemed to be the only man the country had produced that seemed to have the qualifications for the assignment (of war). ... I'd say his ability to get along with other people ... had been pretty responsible in the unification of our country.«

 

The young woman, F 126, scores low on A-S and E, middle on F, and high on PEC. She is studying journalism but actually is interested in »creative writing.« She states

 

that her brother-in-law can find so many things to criticize and, of course, there are plenty. »But I think the President is for the underdog, and I've always been for the underdog.«

 

The high-scoring man, M 102, a student of seismology who went to college because he did not want to be »lined up as just an electrician,« praises Roosevelt's »talent«:

 

»Well, if another candidate had approached Roosevelt, I'd have voted for him. But, no other candidate approached his talent.«

 

M 106, another high-scoring man, again characterized by upward social mobility, is pro-Roosevelt for reasons that are just the opposite of those given by one group of his critics for disliking him, although he too suffers from the »old age« complex.

 

»Roosevelt has done a wonderful job but we should have a young man. Roosevelt stabilized the nation's currency, helped on unemployment, has handled foreign relations marvelously. He is a common man, goes fishing, takes time for relaxation – that's what I like. Mrs. Roosevelt has been active in political and social affairs.«

 

The explanation of the deviation of this highly prejudiced man, who is beset by power ideas and objects to the Jews because they supposedly strive for power, is that he himself

 

»had infantile paralysis, and you appreciate what Roosevelt has done.«

 

The inference may be allowed that if the same man is praised by some people as a »common man« and by others blamed as a »socialite,« these judgments express subjective value scales rather than objective facts.

The established status of a President of the United States, the irrefutable success of Roosevelt, and, one may add, his tremendous impact as a symbolic father figure on the unconscious, seem in more cases than this particular one to check the usurper complex of the pseudoconservative and allow only for vague attacks about which there is something half-hearted, as if they were being made with a bad conscience.

7. Bureaucrats and Politicians

 

There is no mercy, however, for those to whom Roosevelt is supposed to have delegated power. They are usurpers, parasites, know nothing about the people, and should, one may well assume, be replaced by the »right men.« The wealth of statements against bureaucrats and politicians in our interview material is tremendous. Although it comes mostly from high scorers, it is by no means confined to them, and may again be regarded as one of those patterns of political ideology which spread over the well-defined border lines of right vs. left.

It is beyond the scope of the present study to analyze the amount of truth inherent in American distrust of professional politics. Nor should it be denied that a tremendously swollen bureaucratic apparatus, such as that which was necessitated by war conditions and which was, to a certain extent, safe from public criticism, develops unpleasant features, and that the machinery has an inbound tendency to entrench itself and to perpetuate itself for its own sake. However, as one analyzes carefully the standard criticism of the bureaucrats and politicians, he finds very little evidence of such observations, very few specific indictments of bureaucratic institutions which prove them to be incompetent. It is impossible to escape the impression that »the bureaucrat,« with the help of some sections of the press, and some radio commentators, has become a magic word, that he functions as a scapegoat to be blamed indiscriminately for all kinds of unsatisfactory conditions, somewhat reminiscent of the anti-Semitic imagery of the Jew with which that of the bureaucrat is often enough merged. At any rate, the frequency and intensity of antibureaucratic and antipolitician invectives is quite out of proportion with any possible experience. Resentment about the »alienation« of the political sphere as a whole, as discussed at the beginning of this chapter, is turned against those who represent the political sphere. The bureaucrat is the personalization of ununderstandable politics, of a depersonalized world.

Striking examples of this general attitude of high scorers are provided by the above-quoted political statements of Mack (p. 34)^[17] and of the markedly anti-Semitic manager of a leather factory, M 359 (p. [348] of this chapter).

Sometimes the invectives against politics terminate in tautologies: politics is blamed for being too political.

M 1230a is a young welder who wanted to study engineering. He scores high on E but low on F and PEC.

 

(What thinking of political trends today?) »Well, they're very disrupted. We discussed them a lot, and a lot of things we don't like. The administration seems to be so tied up in politics. ... Statesmanship is gone completely. ... Can't believe anything you read in the newspapers. We read the newspapers mainly to laugh. ...«

 

The last passage is characteristic of the alienation from politics which expresses itself in a complete, and by no means altogether unjustified, distrust of the reliability of any news which has gone through the filter of a system of communications controlled by vested interests. This distrust, however, is shifted to the scapegoat, the bureaucrat and the politician, usually attacked by the same press which is this subject's laughing stock.

F 120, a high-scoring woman, differentiates between Roosevelt and the bureaucracy.¹⁸

 

(Roosevelt and the New Deal?) »I admired him, in fact I voted for him, although I did not approve of a lot of things about the New Deal. All the bureaus. I would not have minded the spending if it had gone to help people. But I resented all the wasted motion – professional people digging ditches – and especially the expensive agencies stuffed with do-nothings, bureaucrats.«

 

M 1214b, a medium scorer of the Maritime School, is antipolitical in a traditionalistic way, the ultimate direction of which is still undetermined.

 

»No respect for politicians: bunch of windbags. They try to sound people out and follow along.« (This is just the opposite of the usual argument according to which the politicians are too independent. This particular twist may indicate the underlying awareness of the weakness of the representatives of formal democracy [-TWA].) »They are not sincere public servants. Roosevelt, Lincoln, Jefferson, and Bryan are exceptions. Wilson was also sincere.« Subject has no respect for Harding or Coolidge.

 

Finally, an example from a low scorer. M 112, asked about politics, simply states:

 

»I don't like it. We can get along without it. Don't think that people should be just politicians. Should have an ordinary life, just hold office at times. Not be trained for politics and nothing else, should know what people want and do it. Not control things for themselves or others.«

 

The tone of this accusation is markedly different from the phraseology of the high scorers. This man seems really to be worried lest bureaucracy should become reified, an end in itself, rather than democratically expressing the wishes of the people.

The motivation of the low scorers' criticism of bureaucrats and politicians seems largely to vary from that of the high scorers; phenomenologically, however, it reminds so much of the latter that one is led to fear that in a critical situation quite a few antipolitical low scorers may be caught by a fascist movement.

8. There Will Be No Utopia

 

The political thinking of high scorers is consummated by the way they approach the ultimate political problem: their attitude toward the concept of an »ideal society.« Their opinional pattern not only concerns the means but also the ultimate social ends.

According to the frame of mind which is being analyzed here, there is no utopia and, one may add, there should be no utopia. One has to be »realistic.« This notion of realism, however, does not refer to the necessity of judging and accounting on the basis of objective, factual insight, but rather to the postulate that one recognizes from the very beginning the overwhelming superiority of the existent over the individual and his intentions, that one advocates an adjustment implying resignation with regard to any kind of basic improvements, that one gives up anything that may be called a daydream, and reshapes oneself into an appendage of the social machinery. This is reflected by political opinion in so far as any kind of utopian idea in politics is excluded altogether.

It must be pointed out that an anti-utopia complex seems to occur in the interviews of low scorers even more frequently than in those of high scorers, perhaps because the former are more ready to admit their own worries and are less under the impact of »official optimism.« This differentiation between the stand taken by high and low scorers against utopia seems to be corroborated by the study »Psychological Determinants of Optimism regarding the Consequences of the War« by Sanford, Conrad, and Franck.¹⁹ Official optimism, the »keep smiling« attitude, goes with underlying traits of contempt for human nature, as expressed by the cynicism cluster of the F scale, which differentiates clearly between high and low scorers. Conversely, low scorers are much more ready to admit negative facts in general, and particularly with regard to themselves, on a surface level, being less spellbound by the conventional cliché that »everything is fine,« but they show, on a deeper level of their opinions, much greater confidence in the innate potentialities of the human race. One may epitomize the difference dynamically by stating that the high scorers deny utopia because they ultimately do not want it to materialize, whereas anti-utopian statements of the low scorers are derived from a rejection of the official ideology of »God's own country.« The latter are skeptical about utopia, because they take its realization seriously and therefore take a critical view of the existent, even up to the point where they acknowledge the threat exercised by the impact of prevailing conditions against just those human potentialities in which they trust in the depth of their hearts.

M 345 is a high-scoring man of the University Extension Testing Class group. He scores high on E and PEC but low on F. When asked about what he thinks of an ideal society, his answer reads:

 

»I don't think there is such a thing without changing everything, including the people in it. Always some people unusually wealthy, always some unusually miserable economically.«

 

This answer is significant in many respects. The denial of the possibility of an ideal society is based on the assumption that otherwise everything ought to be changed – an idea apparently unbearable to the subject. Rather than change everything, that is to say, to disobey ultimate respect for the existent, the world should be left as bad as it is. The argument that first the people should be changed before the world can be changed belongs to the old anti-utopian armory. It leads to a vicious circle, since, under prevailing external conditions, no such internal change can ever be expected, and, actually, those who speak in this way do not even admit its possibility, but rather assume the eternal and intrinsic badness of human nature, following the pattern of cynicism discussed in the chapter on the F scale. Simultaneously wealth and poverty which are obviously the products of social conditions are hypostatized by the subject as if they were inborn, natural qualities. This both exonerates society and helps to establish the idea of unchangeability on which the denunciation of utopia feeds. We venture the hypothesis that the brief statement of this subject bares a pattern of thinking which is exceedingly widespread, but which few people would epitomize as overtly as he does.

To the aforementioned M 105, who comes as close to overt fascism as any of our subjects, the idea of natural qualities excluding an ideal society is related immediately to the most pressing issue: the abolition of war.

 

»Naturally, I like America best. The question is, is it worth while to give up what we have in order to have world trade? The Japs make cheap products and can undersell us. What I'm afraid of is a perpetual lend-lease. If we do trade with other nations we should have the cash. World trade would not prevent war. The fighting instinct is there.«

 

The significant fact about his statement is that the assumption of a »fighting instinct,« which apparently is never supposed to disappear, is related in an overrealistic manner to economic advantages, cash, sticking to what one has, and so on. Incidentally, this is the same man who speaks against the present war because he »can't see what he can possibly get out of it.«

Self-contradictory is a statement by the executive secretary, F 340B, a medium-scoring woman, whose personality as a whole, as well as her ready-made political opinions, come closer to the type of the high scorer than her questionnaire leads us to believe. In terms of surface opinion she wants to be »idealistic,« in terms of her specific reactions she is under the spell of »realism,« the cult of the existent.

 

»I'm not happy about our foreign policy here – it's not definite enough, and not idealistic enough.« (What are your specific criticisms?) »It is not much of anything: seems we haven't got any foreign policy.« (What kind of foreign policy would you like to see?) »I would like to see the four freedoms, the Atlantic Charter actually applied in other countries. Then we also have to be realistic about it, but we have to strive to be idealistic – to realize the ideals eventually.«

 

There is something pathetic about this statement. For the contention that one has to be »realistic« in order ultimately to realize the ideals is certainly true. Taken in abstracto, however, and without specific concepts as to how this could be achieved, the truth becomes perverted into a lie, denoting only that »it cannot be done« while the individual still maintains the good conscience that she would be only too happy if it were possible.

Psychologically, the anti-utopian pattern of political thinking is related to sadomasochistic traits. They manifest themselves strikingly in the statement of the high-scoring San Quentin inmate, M 662A, who comes fairly close to the »tough-guy« syndrome discussed in Chapter XIX^[20]. When asked »what is an ideal society like,« he answers: »Plenty of work for everybody; have all the strikes stopped.«

To the naiveté of this man, who certainly belongs to the poorest strata himself, the image of the present order has been petrified to such an extent that he cannot even conceive of a social system where, because of rational organization, each individual has less to work – to him the ideal is that everybody can work, which does not only include satisfaction of basic needs but also efforts which might easily be dispensed with today. The idea that some strict order should prevail is so overpowering to him that utopia becomes a society where no strikes are to be tolerated any more, rather than a society where strikes would be unnecessary.

It should be mentioned that the general denial of utopianism is sometimes reversed by the subjects whose statements we are scrutinizing here, when they speak about the United States.

Thus, M 619, a low scorer of the San Quentin group, led by the prison situation to complete political resignation, still feels:

 

»... I think part of the reason America has become the greatest country in the world is that because the dreams a man makes might come true.«

 

Of course, this is to be understood primarily as an expression of the dream that can be measured by the dollars and cents an individual can make, but it should not be forgotten that among the ideological foundations of American liberalism there is also a utopian element which, under certain conditions, may break through and overcome the gospel of supposed realism.

Apparently, the anti-utopian somehow feels uneasy about his own »realism,« and seeks an outlet by attributing to the reality with which he is most strongly intensified, his own country, some of the utopian qualities he otherwise disavows.

Only the low- to medium-scoring San Quentin murderer, M 628B, a man who has nothing to lose in life, says bluntly:

 

»This country educates people, but in the so-called American way. ... I don't believe this is the best country. Maybe in a materialistic way. ... I would not value my life by material things.«

 

The undertone of this statement is, similar to M 619, one of fatalistic resignation. Even low scorers who are not anti-utopian cannot think of utopia but in a quasi-fatalistic way: as if it were something preconceived, fixed once and for all; something which one has to »look up« rather than think and realize oneself. M 711:

 

(What is ideal society like?) »That's an awfully difficult question. Isn't it based on the four freedoms?«

9. No Pity for the Poor

 

One should expect that a frame of mind which regards everything as basically bad should at least favor, in the area of politics and social measures, as much help for those who suffer as possible. But the philosophy of the anti-utopian pessimists is not tinged by Schopenhauerian mercy. The general pattern we are investigating here is characterized by an all-pervasive feature. These subjects want no pity for the poor, neither here nor abroad. This trait seems to be strictly confined to high scorers and to be one of the most differentiating features in political philosophy. At this point, the interrelatedness of some ideas measured by the PEC scale and certain attitudes caught by the F scale should be stressed. Abolition of the dole, rejection of state interference with the »natural« play of supply and demand on the labor market, the spirit of the adage »who does not work, shall not eat« belong to the traditional wisdom of economic rugged individualism and are stressed by all those who regard the liberal system as being endangered by socialism. At the same time, the ideas involved have a tinge of punitiveness and authoritarian aggressiveness which makes them ideal receptacles of some typical psychological urges of the prejudiced character. Here goes, for example, the conviction that people would not work unless subject to pressure – a way of reasoning closely related to vilification of human nature and cynicism. The mechanism of projectivity is also involved: the potentially fascist character blames the poor who need assistance for the very same passivity and greediness which he has learned not to admit to his own consciousness.

Examples: The extremely high-scoring San Quentin inmate, M 664C, whose F score is outstanding, shows clearly the psychological aspect of this particular ideology. He regards as the »major problem« facing this country the fact that it might do something for the starving people abroad. His statement shows also the intimate interrelation between the »no pity for the poor« and the fatalism complexes.

 

»Christ, we licked those other countries and now we're gonna feed 'em. ... I think we ought to let 'em starve, especially them Japs. ... Lucky I don't have any relations killed in this war, I'd go out and kill me some Japs. ... We're gonna have another depression and gonna have another war too in a few years.«

 

By contrast, M 658, another high-scoring convict with certain psychopathic traits, turn his affects against the unemployed rather than against the Japanese:

 

»I believe everybody should have an opportunity. Should not be any unemployment. Only reason they are unemployed, they are lazy like me.«

 

This may be regarded as one of the most authentic examples of sadomasochistic thinking in our interviews. He wants others to be treated harshly because he despises himself: his punitiveness is obviously a projection of his own guilt feelings.

Women are freer of the »no pity for the poor« complex. They rather overcompensate for it in terms of social welfare and charity which is, as indicated previously, a »high« value anyway. The following statement may be regarded as characteristic of the woman who humiliates him whom she pretends to help, and actually does not help at all but just makes herself feel important.

F 359, a high scorer who combines conventionality with somewhat paranoid ideas about the Negroes:

 

Subject thinks that the poorer people should be taken care of by state or community projects. People in the community should get together, like people, for instance, who are good at organizing boys' clubs; or they might organize dances and hold them at one person's house one week, and at somebody else's the next week. Everybody should contribute something; take up a small collection. In the case of a poor section it might get the funds from the city. One might also call on public funds for buildings, if needed.

 

The attitude of indifference to the lot of the poor together with admiration for rich and successful people sheds light on the potential attitude of the high scorers toward the prospective victims of fascism in a critical situation. Those who humiliate mentally those who are down-trodden anyway, are more than likely to react the same way when an outgroup is being »liquidated.« This attitude has, of course, strong sociological determinants: upward social mobility, identification with the higher class to whom they wish to belong themselves, recognition of universal competition as a measuring rod for what a person is worth, and the wish to keep down the potential threat of the disinherited masses. These sociological motives, however, are inseparably bound up with the psychological mechanisms indicated above. The specific infantile implications may be indicated as follows: identification with the poor is quite enticing for children, since the world of the poor appears to them in many ways less restricted than their own, whilst they somehow sense the similarity between the social status of a child in an adult society and the status of the poor in a rich man's world. This identification is repressed at an early phase for the sake of »upward mobility,« and also – even if the children are poor themselves – for the sake of the reality principle in general which tolerates compassion only as an ideology or as »charity« but not in its more spontaneous manifestations. They project the »punishment« they have received for their own compassion upon the downtrodden by regarding poverty as something the poor »brought upon themselves.« The same formula, incidentally, plays a decisive role in anti-Semitism.