Why we fall for Pied Pipers who hum our political tune
Over the last few years, the internet has democratized almost every inch of our lives. Nowhere is this more evident than what Gen Z calls crowdfunding. Asking for alms for a higher cause is no longer the preserve of religious leaders, politicians, or the avocado-champagne class. Each petition is more ridiculous than the last.
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Earlier, mendicants simply said: “Allah ke naam pe dede baba”, but now, they come up with elaborate, and often convoluted, ruses to justify asking for your money: “Support my fight against fascism by donating for my mental health and buy my anti-CAA soap which will cleanse your conscience of Islamophobia.”
But the bubble was burst recently when a lot of folks from an ideological spectrum took great umbrage that a popular RTI activist and Clubhouse enthusiast was allegedly using their donations – meant to “fight fascism” – for his own sustenance.
Honestly, it’s unfair to begrudge the gentleman his due, given he managed to do what all of us are struggling to do week in and week out.
It’s the curse of the working class, but our very existence is based on convincing another person about our worth so we can get something in return. The only different thing is who we con to get the moolah – our dad, our boss, our colleagues, our crowd funders, our subscribers, or our voters.
All of us have what Morpheus called the Residual Self Image, which we project to the world. And to lead a successful life, the world must accept that projection.
The spiritual guru must convince his followers that he has the key to inner peace.
The politician must hoodwink voters into thinking that he is the least evil of all the available choices.
The businessman must convince consumers that his products are their best bet.
The start-up founder should convince the VC that he will have a decent exit.
The artist must convince folks why his white square is better than other artists’ white square.
And the activist, most of all, must convince folks that giving him money would bring about significant change in a cruel world.
Now, here’s the kicker.
Anyone with basic cognition skills and opposable thumbs ought to know that it costs Rs 10 to file an RTI. Anyone who has ever had the misfortune to visit the gentleman’s timeline would know that he’s wrong about most things. Yet, he managed to convince so many people that writing a Twitter thread or two or filing a random complaint was “fighting fascism”. The same folks who mock RW uncles for sharing WhatsApp forwards donated wholeheartedly.
But why did people fall for it? There is a simple explanation. As we grow up, we form a worldview that solidifies, and as we grow older, we try to find evidence to support it. It is obviously coloured by our availability heuristic. It affects everything, including the movies we watch, the books we read, and the things we enjoy. We strive to find meaning in everything to align with our worldview, even if it’s an escapist fantasy or an Avengers movie.
In fact, it would take a very rational person to acknowledge, for example, that Arundhati Roy’s political worldview is absolutely bonkers, but that she is one of the most talented wordsmiths in English from the Indian subcontinent. Our confirmation bias for ideological leanings seeps into all our decisions, a type of cognitive resonance where we try to see the world for what we believe it should be.
Ergo, someone on our side of the political divide isn’t just a ‘good person’ but is also very ‘talented’. For example, if I hate Modi, I am likelier to find a particular comedian hilarious, even if he only knows one joke that he repeats ad nauseam. There are several other examples of this. The columnist who writes the same piece week in and week out about India’s lost soul. A filmmaker who couldn’t even copy The Usual Suspects. The anchor who shouts till your eardrum bursts or the one who does mime on prime time TV. Look around, and you will find them everywhere.
But, why do our cognition skills go for a toss when these Pied Pipers hum our tune?
In his book Power: A New Social Analysis, Bertrand Russel had argued that power was the currency that made the world go around, disagreeing with Messrs Marx (who believed it was money) and Freud (who thought it was sex). He hypothesized that the world is divided into three types of people – leaders, followers and heretics.
Russell writes: “When men willingly follow a leader, they do so with a view to the acquisition of power by the group, which he commands, and they feel that his triumphs are theirs. Most men do not feel in themselves the competence required for leading their group to victory, and therefore seek out a captain who appears to possess the courage and sagacity necessary for the achievement of supremacy.”
Here the divide is quite clear. The politicians are the leaders, and their supporters and voters are the followers who hope to imbibe the qualities of their leader. But according to Russell, there’s a third kind of man (and his followers), who neither command nor obey. They are not indifferent to power but are unable to obtain it through regular methods.
They are the heretics, who often find disciples combining a love submission with an impulse to revolt. The modern-day heretics are those who can’t win elections and don’t see people ideologically-aligned to them winning elections either. They must find other avenues to remain relevant.
They write op-eds. They file RTIs. They laud former tennis players, rockers, porn stars, and pop stars for agreeing with them. They screech that democracy is being trampled because their guy can no longer win. They attend conferences, beseeching academics to see the fascism growing over their land. They write tediously-long open letters, usually signed by the same 150 elites including Noam Chomsky.
Every breath they take is to “fight fascism”. Ironically, even some mainstream political parties – bereft of a belief that they can beat the current dispensation in a fight at the ballot – are behaving like these heretics, acting like they have to convince voters in Manhattan not Muzaffarpur.
So, why do we fall for them?
The first reason is simple – hope. If we can’t hope for a better world – and do whatever we think might make it better – we might as well throw in the towel.
So go forward and donate to the podcaster, blogger, RTI activist, soap maker, independent media outlet, or journalist seeking a SOAS education. But remember one thing.
No matter how much one pretends to align to your ideology, they will always be more aligned to Mammon’s.
In that sense, Marx was right. Money is the only currency that makes the world go around, and the desire to make money will always trump every ideology the world will ever see. To paraphrase a very popular Indian commentator: “Capitalism is, and always will be the real winner.”
PS – If you feel the need, you can always donate to the worthiest fund of them all – the Nonsensical Nemo Lubrication Fund for Simpler Living and Higher Thinking.
Brilliant
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