Why We Shouldn’t Call Complicity Civility

Why We Shouldn’t Call Complicity Civility Roth Coats| Fact Checker

As you may or may not be aware, there was recently an election. Up to the election, and even following it, many social media posts have circulated that encourage us to be friendly and civil to those who support a political ideology different from our own. The most popular instance is the ballad of Bob and Sally, who remain friends post-election, despite voting for different candidates.

For some people, overlooking the voting behavior of others is easy to do. Let’s imagine you’re a white, straight, cisgender, able-bodied, middle-class man chatting with a pal who is of the same demographics. No matter who you (and your buddy) voted for, you likely won’t lose access to healthcare or voting rights. You won’t have to worry about being harassed for using the bathroom, and you won’t face structural violence simply for existing as you are. But, if you substitute any of these privileged identity factors for a marginalized one, political discourse becomes more high stakes. It becomes more than a casual discussion when your basic rights are the topic at hand.

You are likely aware of the threat that the appointment of Amy Coney Barrett poses to rights like safe abortion access and gay marriage. Outside of the Supreme Court, political opposition to police abolition (or even reform) continues to place Black Americans at risk of experiencing deadly violence. Additionally, the failure to take action against the coronavirus pandemic has led to hundreds of thousands of avoidable deaths, especially in the community of Americans with disabilities.

But, the power of politicians does not simply lie in their ability to enact, reverse, and block legislative change. Political figures define and enforce social normalities, not just for die-hard supporters, but for the entire population they serve. As much as you may try to separate yourself from the candidate for whom you voted, what they support is what becomes socially acceptable.

In 2016, counties that hosted a Trump campaign rally saw twice the amount of hate crimes as similar counties that didn’t. After his election, counties that Trump won by a large margin faced “an anomalous spike in hate crimes,” which constituted the second-largest uptick in the last 25 years, ranking only behind violence post-9/11. This doesn’t mean that every Trump supporter consciously endorses or commits hate crimes. It does mean that every Trump supporter voted for a world in which committing this violence is acceptable, if not encouraged.

When you vote for politicians that create and reinforce asymmetrical power balances, you must also take accountability for the behavior that this inspires. When you vote for politicians who actively threaten the safety and rights of others, you can’t expect those affected to offer you an empathy that you chose to not extend. Asking for civility after choosing to endanger the rights of others means asking people to be complicit in their own oppression. It means asking them not to fight injustice so that you won’t feel guilty or inconvenienced.

As a transman, people often seem kind and accepting, so I assume the best of them. But sometimes the same people who claim to support me in personal interactions choose to support politicians with transphobic views or choose to join organizations that encourage conversion therapy. Pointing out this hypocrisy with kindness and civility is not enough to change people’s minds. I’ve tried (see Chi Alpha 2018). It provides no pressure for them to change, and it’s exhausting, just like it’s exhausting listening to others endlessly debate whether my identity is valid.

My existence and my lived experience are not up for debate. If you want to reach out and show kindness to those who endanger you, I support you. But no one can tell you that you’re wrong for being too exhausted to do so. So fuck civility. I don’t have to support people who consider me “less than.” Neither do you.