Publisher’s Note:
Today is the 72nd anniversary of Joe Sobran’s birth.
Happy Birthday, Joe!
Today is the 72nd anniversary of Joe Sobran’s birth.
Happy Birthday, Joe!
Griffin
Internet Syndicate, October 28, 2004 — I just got a message from a
friend who nearly always disagrees with me. His disagreement usually takes the
form of an irritable accusation: to wit, that I can’t really mean what I say.
Accepting disagreement as
sincere is one of the severe tests of maturity.
I know
how he feels. It’s irrational, but we all tend to get angry when others
disagree with us. That’s because we are so right that nobody in his right mind
could honestly deny it, isn’t it?
Accepting
disagreement as sincere is one of the severe tests of maturity. I always think
of George Orwell, one of my literary heroes, who recognized in himself “a rare
capacity for facing unpleasant facts.” One of these facts is that other people
are as sure of their convictions as you are of yours, and they are as sure of
your dishonesty as you are of theirs.
A silly old adage has it that
you should never argue about politics and religion. But as G.K. Chesterton
retorted, politics and religion are the only subjects worth arguing about. If
only we could all do it as cheerfully and as charitably as Chesterton does!
It took
me a long time to face this. It was so tempting to believe that deep down, my
opponents agreed with me but perversely refused to admit it. Finally it sank
in: They meant what they said just as much as I did. I had to face the test of
truth just as much as I wanted them to. If I was right, I must be prepared to
demonstrate it to unbiased people (if I could find any).
A silly
old adage has it that you should never argue about politics and religion. But
as G.K. Chesterton retorted, politics and religion are the only subjects worth
arguing about. If only we could all do it as cheerfully and as charitably as
Chesterton does!
I now believe many things I’d much rather not believe. I’ve also had to
give up beliefs I once cherished, at some cost in comfort, recognition, and
dear friendships. Not to mention money.
I
certainly can’t. But I’ve trained myself, at long last, to suppress my
annoyance at disagreement, and even to take a friendly interest in it. The
other fellow must have some reason for thinking as he does. As William Blake
says, “Everything that is possible to be believed is an image of truth.”
When it
comes to the hot topics of religion and politics, it’s true, most people
believe what they want to believe. Their “beliefs” really flow from wishful thinking,
not reason. And in a way they admit this when they assume that my beliefs must
also flow from mere wishes. They assume that all of us believe what we want to
believe, just as they do.
I was sitting pretty when I
was a mainstream conservative. I miss those days. But there’s no going back.
Finally, it’s a matter of self-respect: I just couldn’t keep saying things I
could no longer say with conviction. I have to endure a certain amount of
isolation and even ostracism.
I can say
that this isn’t true in my case, because, like Orwell, I’ve steeled myself to
face those unpleasant facts. I now believe many things I’d much rather not
believe. I’ve also had to give up beliefs I once cherished, at some cost in
comfort, recognition, and dear friendships. Not to mention money.
For
example, I was sitting pretty when I was a mainstream conservative. I miss
those days. But there’s no going back. Finally, it’s a matter of self-respect:
I just couldn’t keep saying things I could no longer say with conviction. I
have to endure a certain amount of isolation and even ostracism. But as John
Kerry’s dying mother so memorably said, “Remember — integrity, integrity,
integrity!”
On a
slightly less lofty matter, I’m sometimes accused of “snobbery” for arguing
that “Shakespeare” was really the 17th Earl of Oxford — which implies, again,
that my wish was father to the thought. But I’m about as snobbish as a mongrel
pup, and I was happy to believe that Shakespeare was an ordinary young man; it
took an effort to realize that he was really a bisexual lord. This was far from
what I wished to discover.
If you want to know how wise
and honest a man is, observe how much he is willing to credit to his opponents.
The
truth, I think, is the reverse: Believers in the Stratford man want to believe
he was the great poet, in spite of the evidence. They like the dear Horatio
Alger story of the country boy “warbling his native woodnotes wild,” and a
charming story it is. But I can’t believe it. I have to force myself to realize
that many people still do.
Another kind of wishful thinking is the
desire to think the worst of our enemies in every possible way. This is common
in politics, as when Republicans, not content with savaging John Kerry, also
savage his wife for pretty harmless remarks. I don’t mind that they are
ungallant, but that they are so desperately petty about it.
If you want to know how wise and honest
a man is, observe how much he is willing to credit to his opponents.
###
Copyright
© 2018 by the Fitzgerald Griffin Foundation. All rights reserved. “You Can’t
Mean It!” by Joe Sobran was published originally by Griffin Internet Syndicate
on October 28, 2004.
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