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Friday, December 4, 2015

The Definition of Terrorism: Fear in the Air



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Fear in the Air, Americans Look Over Their Shoulders

by N. R. Kleinfield | Dec. 3, 2015

The killings are happening too often. Bunched too close together. At places you would never imagine.

As the long roll call of mass shootings added a prosaic holiday party in San Bernardino, Calif., to its list, a wide expanse of America’s populace finds itself engulfed in a collective fear, a fear tinged with confusion and exasperation and a broad brew of emotions. The fear of the ordinary. Going to work. Eating a meal in a restaurant. Sending children to school. Watching a movie.

Wendy Malloy, 49, who lives in Tampa, Fla., said she now worried about being caught in an attack on a daily basis, just doing what anyone does. “When my son gets out of the car in the morning and walks into his high school,” she said. “When I drop him at his part-time job at a supermarket. When we go to the movies, concerts and festivals. When I walk into my office. It is a constant, grinding anxiety. And it gets louder every single day.”

After all, a festive gathering of county health workers in San Bernardino would not seem likely to make the top million of a list of shooting targets. It was not an iconic symbol of American freedom or American muscle. It was not a target draped in ideological conflict.

If you were not safe there, where were you safe? A common office party. That was everywhere. That was everybody.

A complicated tangle of emotions has taken hold. For some, the shock of repeated slaughters is leaving them inured and resigned. With others, there is recurrent bewilderment. And anger. Why doesn’t the government and law enforcement do more? Why must I feel so helpless? What world must my children live in? Why won’t it stop already?

Jean O’Sullivan, 54, who lives in the Los Angeles area and thinks about shootings multiple times a day, wrote, “Just as I naturally consider how I would survive if there was an earthquake, now I have added mental contingencies for a shooting — and THAT is a sad state of affairs!”

In the aftermath of the San Bernardino shootings, coming close on the heels of the Colorado killings, The New York Times invited people to respond online about their fear of a mass shooting.

More than 5,000 wrote in. In addition, many others were interviewed on Thursday around the country: teachers and students and office workers, even some Army veterans who confided that they felt safer in war zones than on the streets of the United States.

People spoke of being spooked by gestures once ignored as utterly unremarkable. As one young woman from Massachusetts put it: “The guy in the corner always looking at his watch or the woman reaching into her bag too quickly.”

Of course the man is probably wondering where his date is already. Of course the odds are the woman simply heard her cellphone vibrate.

But is it? Could it be? Must I run?

This woman said she planned to have children in the future, probably not for a decade, and yet she had already made the decision to home-school them.

By no means is this deep anxiety causing life to grind to any sort of standstill. Many Americans remain steadfast that they will not crumple in the face of terrorists or other strains of mass murderers, foreign or homebred. Some want to buy their own gun. Many insist they worry more about a car accident or slip in the bathtub befalling them, statistically more probable events than gun atrocities. People work, go out, live. But still, a creeping fear of being caught in a mass rampage has unmistakably settled itself firmly in the American consciousness.

Times readers responded by the thousands to a simple question: How often, if ever, do you think about the possibility of a shooting in your daily life?

Any number of people said that gunmen cross their mind when someone gets up or walks in late to a crowded movie theater. Is he the one? A 64-year-old man in Charlottesville, Va., said he now watched movies exclusively at home. For him, he said, the idea that “it can’t happen here” is gone.

Others feared that whenever a work colleague was fired, he would return armed and shooting.

Arthur Grupp, 64, who is the head custodian of an elementary school in New Hampshire, said, “Every time I lock the doors at school, I think about it.” His school was having a Homeland Security training session just as the violence in San Bernardino unfolded.

A person in Denver said that not long ago the fear used to enter his mind every few weeks. Now it is at least once a day: “Because at any moment it could be my little brother at school, my siblings running errands, my parents at work, me on my way to class who could be the next name having ‘thoughts and prayers’ sent their way.”

A 23-year-old woman in Cleveland said she was frightened of doing anything and that she “hated this world.”

“Everybody is filled with what we sometimes refer to as anticipatory anxiety — worrying about something that is not currently happening in our lives but could happen,” said Alan Hilfer, the former chief psychologist at Maimonides Medical Center in Brooklyn who is now in private practice. “And they are worrying that the randomness of it, which on one hand makes the odds of something happening to them very small, that randomness also makes it possible to happen to them.”

People are able to recite with precision how often they think about a mass shooting touching them. Every day. Twice a week. Up to four times a day. Every other day. Every two weeks. Every time they’re in a crowded space. Whenever her teenagers are out. Every time she walks into her office and back to the parking garage. Every day. Every day. Every day.

For a 16-year-old in Berkeley, it is “almost constantly.”

Tracy Gill, 32, works at the Joe Van Gogh coffee shop in Durham, N.C. She finds herself being much fussier about her public activities. No movies on opening night. When she goes to a theater, she always sits in the back.

“If there’s a possibility of there being any kind of danger, I’ll just pick and choose what I’m going to go to,” she said. “Is it even worth it? I hate that that’s even a thought in my head.”

A 32-year-old woman in Green Bay, Wis., said that she and her husband discussed a plan whenever they were heading to a place that could be a target. Now, she feels that is everywhere.

Judith Mitchell, 62, who lives in Austin, Tex., and works for the state, has four grandchildren and is exasperated that her country cannot solve this. She does not see why she must live how she does.

“If I’m in a shopping mall,” she said, “I’m always aware of what’s around me and where I can hide, the closest exit, where to go, especially if I have a grandchild with me.”

Kevin Bloxom, 50, who lives in Louisiana, wrote: “I think where I would hide my kids from shooters every time I am in public. No matter where. Not just movies or public events. I was in the grocery store last weekend with my four year old. I found myself scouting places I could hide my little boy. It’s sad.”

The fear sneaks up on some people, catches them off guard. Amanda Cusick, 23, a law student in San Francisco, said that with school demands she barely has time to worry about anything. “I don’t wake up and think, what if I’m shot today?” she wrote. But then she will be driving or in a meditative moment, and she thinks, what if her younger sister is shot and she never sees her again? Does she know whom to contact for her parents’ will?

On Wednesday, after news of San Bernardino had filtered in, a spontaneous discussion began among several co-workers at a Department of Veterans Affairs medical center in Manhattan. The subject was which room to lock themselves in should a gunman arrive.

Emily Johnston, 26, a college student in Cincinnati, said that a year ago there was a threat against her university involving guns and explosives. Ever since, she worries about an attack multiple times a day.

She steers clear of crowded areas. And the fear infects her sleep. “I have had nightmares in which I am sitting in class when a gunman enters,” she wrote. “I realize I have nowhere to go and feel trapped, panicked, helpless. In another nightmare, students are running from a shooter in one building but there are more than one and another is waiting.”

How does one navigate this swirl of emotions?

“I think awareness of your own fears is the only way to go and to do the things that are soothing and comforting and distracting to do, and to do things that bring meaning to your life and bring comfort to other people,” said Dr. Sherry Katz-Bearnot, assistant clinical professor at Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons. “It’s what your grandmother said: Keep busy.”

Some people find that they have reached a numbed state of resignation.

Eric Hsu, 37, who lives in Los Angeles and shoots videos for a living, said that because of the volume of massacres, the San Bernardino shooting “didn’t even register amongst my friends and family during dinnertime conversation or on social media.” It was too common.

“I saw a picture of a woman being taken out on a gurney,” he wrote. “I go to buildings just like the one in San Bernardino all the time. I do my work with innocent and unsuspecting people. Life is fine until it happens to you. That’s how I feel about it now. I’m fine. Until it happens to me.”


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Thursday, November 26, 2015

In Times of Hysteria



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In times of hysteria

Six things ordinary people can do to restore sanity.

One of the most difficult experiences of democracy is to watch your country going crazy, and feel responsible. In a dictatorship you could just zone out: The Powers That Be will do what they do, and your opinion doesn’t matter anyway. Your neighbors, your friends, your co-workers — their opinions don’t matter either, so there’s no point in arguing with them, or even letting them know you disagree. You might as well just binge-watch something light on TV, and wait for the wave to pass.

In a democracy it’s different: We are the wave. 
In a democracy it’s different: We are the wave. Politicians really do respond to certain kinds of public opinion, sometimes to our shame. So, for example, my Democratic governor (Maggie Hassan of New Hampshire, who I have voted for, given money to, and was planning to support for the Senate) called for a halt on admitting Syrian refugees. (She later reduced it to a “pause“, “until intelligence and defense officials can assure that the process for vetting all refugees is as strong as possible to ensure public safety.” But the damage was done: Any governor who wants to come out against refugees can claim bipartisan support.) My representative (Annie Kuster of NH-2, who I have also voted for and given money to) voted Yes on the American Security Against Foreign Enemies Act, which at a minimum would delay any new refugee resettlements by 2 or 3 months, and might snafu the process altogether. [1] (Check your representative’s vote here.)


If my side has been characterized by politicians timidly letting the panic sweep them away, on the other side it’s been bedlam. Ben Carson is openly dehumanizing refugees with metaphors about “rabid dogs”. Donald Trump is talking about closing mosques, because “we’re going to have no choice”. He has advocated forcing American Muslims to register with the government, so that they can be tracked in a database. Marco Rubio expanded Trump’s proposal to call for shutting down “anyplace where radicals are being inspired”. Ted Cruz and Jeb Bush want a religious test for refugees: We should accept Christians, but not Muslims. John Kasich wants to create a government agency to promote “Judeo-Christian values” around the world. [2]

Chris Christie says we shouldn’t even let in little kids. Like, say, this Syrian girl, who mistook the photographer’s camera for a gun and tried to surrender.


And Remember this Syrian boy? His photo evoked international compassion a couple months ago, but that never lasts, does it?


When Governor Jay Nixon didn’t try to block Syrian refugees, state Rep. Mike Moon called for a special session of the legislature to stop “the potential Islamization of Missouri“. But the bull goose loony (to borrow Ken Kesey’s phrase) was a Democrat: Roanoke Mayor David Bowers, who justified his refusal to cooperate with resettling refugees by citing FDR’s Japanese internment camps during World War II. That national disgrace is now a precedent. (Who knows? Maybe slavery or the Native American genocide will become precedents too.)

I had never heard of Rep. Moon or Mayor Bowers before, but none of the Republican presidential candidates seemed this insane when they started campaigning. So I suspect they’re just saying what they think will appeal to their voters. They may be pandering to the public fear, attempting to benefit from it, and playing their role in spreading it, but they didn’t start it.

We did that. Ordinary people like us. Our friends, our relatives, our co-workers, the people we know through social media. And so I suspect it’s up to us to stop it.

I have to confess I didn’t see this coming. After the Paris attacks, I expected a push to hit ISIS harder, maybe even to re-invade Iraq and add Syria to the occupation zone. (Jeb Bush recently joined Ben Carson, John Kasich, and Lindsey Graham in calling for ground troops, though he was vague about how many.) I didn’t foresee an Ebola-level panic [3] focused on the refugees who are running from the same people we want to fight, much less the yellow-starring of American citizens who practice an unpopular religion.

But OK, here we are. Our country is going crazy and we are right in the middle of it. What do we do now?

1. Don’t make it worse. In particular, don’t be the guy hysterically running around and yelling at other people not to panic. Sanity begins within. You have to find it in yourself before you can transmit it to other people.

So: calm down. If you need help, seek out other calm voices. The needed attitude is a firm determination to slow this panic down, not a mad urge to turn the mob around and run it in the opposite direction.

Once you start to feel that determination, you’re ready to engage: Participate in conversations (both face-to-face and in social media). Write letters to the editor. Write to your representatives in government.

Don’t yell. Don’t humiliate. Just spread calm, facts, and rationality. When engagement starts to make you crazy, back away. Calm down again. Repeat.

2. Disrupt the spread of rumors. Panics feed on fantasies and rumors. Fantasies tell people that horrible things could happen. Rumors assert that they already are happening.

Social media is the ideal rumor-spreading medium, so it takes a lot of us to slow a rumor down. But you don’t have to be a rhetorical genius to play your part. Simple comments like “I don’t think this is real” or “That’s been debunked” are often sufficient, especially if you have the right link to somebody who has checked it out. The debunking site Snopes.com has tags devoted to Paris attack claims andSyrian refugees.

Here are a couple of the false rumors I’ve run into lately:

Current Syrian refugees resettled in America are not “missing”. I heard this one during a Trump interview with Sean Hannity. Trump refers to “people” who are missing — with the implication that they have gone off the grid and joined some kind of underground. Hannity corrected to “one person … in New Orleans”. (Think about that: It’s gotten so bad that Sean Hannity has to tone stuff down.) ButCatholic Charities has debunked that story: They resettled the guy in Louisiana, and then he moved. He’s not missing. (The source of this rumor was probably the desperate David Vitter campaign for governor, which tried to ride the refugee panic to a comeback victory. It didn’t work.)

No, lying to further the cause of Islam is not a thing. Under the doctrine of taqiya, a Muslim may lie about his faith to escape serious persecution or death. Anti-Muslim propagandists have tried to turn this into a sweeping principle that justifies any lie to an unbeliever — and consequently justifies non-Muslims in disbelieving anything Muslims say. But it doesn’t work that way. Now, I’m sure ISIS has undercover operatives (just like we do) and that Muslim leaders lie (just like leaders of other faiths). But there’s no special reason to think Muslims are less truthful than the rest of us.

I won’t try to predict what further rumors will arise. But when you run into one, checkSnopes, google around a little, and see if somebody has already done the hard work of checking it out.

As you participate, remember: In social media, you’re not just talking to the person you’re responding to (who might be hopeless), you’re also talking to his or her friends. Some of those friends might have been ready to like or share the rumor until they saw your debunking comment. You’ll never know who they are, but their hesitation is your accomplishment.

3. Make fantasies confront reality. Fearful fantasies work best when they’re vague and open-ended. For example: Terrorists are going to sneak in as refugees and kill us!

Think about that: A terrorist is going to submit to a one-or-two-year screening process, establish a life in this country, and then drop off the grid, strap on a suicide vest, and blow himself up in some crowded place.

Does that scenario make any sense? Wouldn’t it be simpler to come as a tourist? An aspiring terrorist could get in much faster with less scrutiny, spend a few weeks visiting Disney World or hiking the Grand Canyon, and then start killing us, while his fake-refugee brothers-in-arms are still tangled in red tape.

Sometimes the most devastating response to a nightmare fantasy is the simple question: “How does that work, exactly?” If you can get a person to admit “I don’t know”, you’ve restored a little sanity to the world.

4. Call out distractions. The Slacktivist blog makes this point so well that I barely need to elaborate.

As a general rule with very few exceptions, whenever you encounter someone arguing that “We [America] shouldn’t be doing X to help those people over there until we fix Y over here for our own people,” then you have also just encountered someone who doesn’t really give a flying fig about actually doing anything to fix Y over here.

So if somebody says we shouldn’t be taking in Syrian refugees while there are still homeless children or veterans or whatever in this country, the right response is to ask what they’re currently doing to help the people they say are more deserving. Odds are: nothing. Their interest in homeless American vets begins and ends with the vets’ value as a distraction from helping refugees.

Once you grasp this tactic, you’ll see it everywhere. So: “All those resources you want to devote to fighting climate change would be better spent helping the poor.” “OK, then, what’s your plan for using those resources to help the poor? Can I count on your vote when that comes up?” Silence.

When people argue that there’s a limited amount of good in the world, so we shouldn’t waste it on anybody but the most deserving, ultimately they’re going to end up arguing that they should keep the limited amount of good they have, and not use it help anybody but themselves.

5. Make sensible points. If you can capture somebody’s attention long enough to make a point of your own, try to teach them something true, rather than just mirror the kind of bile they’re spreading. This is far from a complete list, but in case you’re stuck I have a few sensible points to suggest:

The process for vetting refugees is already serious. Time explains it here, and Voxhas an actual refugee’s account of how she got here.

America needs mosques. Research on terrorism (not to mention common sense) tells us that the people to worry about aren’t the ones who are pillars of their communities. The young men most likely to become terrorists are not those who feel at home in their local houses of worship, but the loners, or the ones have only a handful of equally alienated friends. (That’s not just true for Muslims like theTsarnaev brothers, but also white Christian terrorists like Dylann Roof.) When you can’t connect face-to-face, that’s when you start looking around online for other radical outcasts you can identify with.

So it would be bad if American mosques just magically went away, as if they had never existed. But it would be infinitely worse for the government to start closing them. What could be more alienating to precisely the young men that ISIS wants to recruit?

Religious institutions aide assimilation. Imagine what would have happened if we had closed Italian Catholic churches to fight the Mafia, or Irish Catholic churches for fear of the IRA, or Southern Baptist churches that had too many KKK members.

The Founders envisioned American religious freedom extending to Muslims. AsBen Franklin wrote:

Even if the Mufti of Constantinople were to send a missionary to preach Mohammedanism to us, he would find a pulpit at his service.

We seldom look back with pride on decisions made in a panic. This is where the Japanese internment precedent should be quoted: That’s the kind of stuff we do when we get caught up in a wave of fear and anger. So should our refusal to take in Jewish refugees from Nazi Germany. The Red Scare is another precedent. More recently: Everybody who jumped from 9-11 to “Invade Iraq!” or “We need to torture people!” — are you proud of that now?

6. Look for unlikely allies, and quote them. Listening to Trump, Cruz, and the rest, it’s easy to imagine that everybody in the conservative base is part of the problem. But that’s not true. Here are a few places you may not realize you have allies.

Christians. I know: The self-serving 


Christians [4] so dominate the public conversation that sometimes it’s hard to remember the existence of actual American Christians, i.e., people trying to shape their lives around the example and teachings of Jesus. But if you screen out the clamor of “Christians” focused on the competition between their tribe and the rival tribe of Muslims, you will hear people who are trying to figure out what the Good Samaritan would do.

And I’m not just talking about liberal Christians from the mainstream sects. Lots of evangelical Christian churcheshave been involved in resettling refugees in their local areas. They know exactly how bad it is for refugees, and can put faces on the issue. They’re not happy with the people who are trying to demonize Jamaal and Abeela and their three kids.

The Mormon community retains its collective memory of being outcasts. [5] SoUtah stands out as a red state whose governor has not rejected settling Syrian refugees.

Ryan Dueck sums up:

as Christians, there are certain things that we just don’t get to do.

We don’t get to hunt around for excuses for why we don’t need to include “those people” in the category of “neighbour.”

We don’t get to look for justifications for why it’s better to build a wall than open a door.

We don’t get to label people in convenient and self-serving ways in order to convince ourselves that we don’t have to care for them.

We don’t get to speak and act as if fear is a more pragmatic and useful response than love.

We don’t get to complain that other people aren’t doing the things that we don’t want to do.

We don’t get to reduce the gospel of peace and life and hope to a business-as-usual kind of political pragmatism with a bit of individual salvation on top.

We don’t get to ask, as our default question, “How can I protect myself and my way of life?” but “How does the love of Christ constrain and liberate me in this particular situation?”

And all of this is, of course, for the simple reason that as Christians, we are convinced that ultimately evil is not overcome by greater force or mightier weapons or higher walls or more entrenched divisions between “good people” and “bad people,” but by costly, self-sacrificial love. The kind of love that God displayed for his friends and his enemies on a Roman cross.

If you read the comments on that post, or look at this rejoinder from National Review, you’ll see that Dueck’s point of view is not universal among people who think of themselves as Christians. But it’s out there.

Libertarians. Some parts of the libertarian right understand that oppression is unlikely to stop with Muslims. So Wednesday the Cato Institute posted its analysis: “Syrian Refugees Don’t Pose a Serious Security Threat“. Conservatives who won’t believe you or Mother Jones might take Cato more seriously.

Scattered Republican politicans. I don’t want to exaggerate this, but here’s at least one Republican trying to slow the hysteria down: Oklahoma Congressman Steve Russell. He said this on the floor of the House:

America protects her liberty and defends her shores not by punishing those who would be free. She does it by guarding liberty with her life. Americans need to sacrifice and wake up. We must not become them. They win if we give up who we are and even more-so without a fight.

Russell eventually knuckled under to the pressure and voted for the SAFE Act, butsays that he got something in return from the Republican leadership: the promise of a seat at the table in the subsequent negotiations with the Senate and the White House. We’ll see if that makes a difference.

 These next few days, I think it’s particularly important for sensible people to make their voices heard, and to stand up for the courageous American values that make us proud, rather than the fear and paranoia that quake at the sight of orphan children.

Every time you stick your neck out — even just a little — you make it easier for your neighbor to do the same. Little by little, one person at a time, we can turn this around.


[1] What disturbs me most about the supporters of the SAFE Act is that they’re not calling for any specific changes in the way refugees are screened, they just wantmore of it. I suspect most of the congresspeople who voted for the act have no idea how refugees are vetted now, much less an idea for improving that process.
As we have seen in the discussion of border security, more is one of those desires that can never be satisfied. If this becomes law and in 2-3 months the administration comes out with its new refugee-screening process, we will once again face the cries of “More!”, along with the same nightmare fantasies about killer refugees.

[2] Actually, the main thing wrong with Kasich’s proposal is that he sticks an inappropriate religious label on the values he wants to promote: “the values of human rights, the values of democracy, freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and freedom of association.” Russian dissident (and former chess champion) Garry Kasparov has a better term for these: modern values.

In the West, these values were championed by Enlightenment philosophers, many of whom were denounced as heretics and atheists by the Christian and Jewish authorities of their era. So no, these are not Judeo-Christian values.

[3] The two panics have a number of similarities, as John McQuaid points out. In each case “a terrifying and poorly-understood risk has stirred up apocalyptic fantasies and brought out the worst in the political system.”

If you want a paradigm for fear-mongering, you can’t beat this Donald Trump quote, which combines the appearance of factuality with no actual content whatsoever:

Some really bad things are happening, and they’re happening fast. I think they’re happening a lot faster than anybody understands.

One similarity between the two panics is noteworthy: Both times Republicans attributed President Obama’s sane and measured response to his lack of loyalty to the United States. During Ebola, Jodi Ernst said Obama hadn’t demonstrated that he cares about the American people, and recently, Ted Cruz said Obama “does not wish to defend this country.”

Strangely, though, over-reacting during a panic seems to carry no political cost, because everyone forgets your excesses while they are forgetting their own. In a sane world, Chris Christie’s over-the-top response to Ebola would disqualify him from further leadership positions — especially since it turned out that the CDC was right and he was wrong. But no one remembers, so he is not discouraged from flipping his wig now as well.

[4] You know who I mean: The ones who find the Bible crystal clear when it justifies their condemnation of somebody they didn’t like anyway, but nearly impenetrable when it tells them to do something inconvenient. So the barely coherent rant ofRomans 1 represents God’s complete rejection of any kind of homosexual relationship, but “Sell your possessions and give to the poor” is so profoundly mysterious that it defies interpretation.

[5] My hometown of Quincy, Illinois took in a bunch of them after they were expelled from Missouri in 1838. That event has its own little nook in the local history museum, because generous decisions are the ones descendants are proud of.

BTW, you read that right: The Mormons were expelled from Missouri. Just as pre-Civil-War states could establish slavery, they could also drive out unpopular religious groups. Didn’t hear about that in U.S. History class, did you?


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Monday, November 16, 2015

Dr. Ben Carson: The Most Dangerous Man in Politics



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Dr. Ben Carson: The Most Dangerous Man in Politics

By Steve Nelson 


Dr. Ben Carson is the most dangerous man in politics. I'm not alluding to the facets of Carson's campaign that seem most alarming.

And there are many such facets.

Carson is a climate change denier. He is an anti-evolution religious zealot. He has absolutely no political experience. He has compared Obamacare and abortion to slavery. He believes the great pyramids were grain silos. He thinks a Muslim should not be allowed to be president. He believes that prison makes people gay.

His campaign is based almost entirely on his apparently embellished rags-to-riches tale. He has the distinctive sociopathic characteristic of lying without a hint of self-consciousness. [emphasis added] On last Sunday morning's Face The Nation news program Carson appeared on a split screen - one side showing a prior interview during which he stated that he was offered a full scholarship to attend West Point. On the live screen he claimed that he never said he was offered a full scholarship to attend West Point. He didn't even blink.

He is surely the only presidential candidate in history to boast of having attacked his mother with a hammer. When the story was questioned, he angrily denounced the "liberal media" for doubting that he attempted matricide.

As I scan back over this very partial summary of Carson's presidential "qualifications" I shudder to think that 25-30% of Republican primary voters believe he is the best candidate. But those things may not be what make him most dangerous.

The greatest danger is that Carson is a black man conservatives can love. An MSNBC analyst suggested that Carson, if nominated, might win as much as 25% of the black vote. Barack Obama received 95% of the black vote in 2008 and 93% in 2012. Al Gore and John Kerry received 90% and 88% respectively in 2000 and 2004. These statistics reveal the real challenge Carson might represent to the Democratic nominee.

Carson's popularity among white and black conservatives is a dire threat to racial and social justice. Like Clarence Thomas and other black conservatives, Carson advances the myth that we live in a post-racist society. Aside from embellishments, his genuine rise from poverty to prestige is precisely the kind of narrative that keeps the foot of oppression on the necks of black men and women. His "up by the bootstraps" story is the very rare exception that allows conservatives to deny the rule. If he made it, anyone can. Carson is like a shipwreck's lone survivor who is used to argue that the shoals of injustice don't exist.

This presents a complex dilemma for the political opposition. Donald Trump trots out "political correctness" whenever diversity or racism is mentioned, but at least we can identify the source: a rich, white, clueless boor who insults everyone. When Carson calls anti-racist work "political correctness," how might one challenge him? Who knows the black experience better than a black man raised in poverty? When smug white intellectuals argue that affirmative action is reverse racism, we can challenge them to consider how their own white privilege might have stunted their capacity for empathy. When Carson says black folks are playing the "victim card," what can be said?

To some extent, Carson's presence in the GOP campaign inoculates the entire party against accusations of ignoring racial and social injustice. It is the political equivalent of "some of my best friends are black" played out on a grand scale.

I suspect that much flows from his title and resume: Dr. Ben Carson, celebrated neurosurgeon. Unlike Barack Obama, who was roundly dismissed as a "community organizer" and has been subjected to vile explicit and implicit racist taunts, Carson is beyond reproach because physicians are de facto smart. This stature has skewed his sense of the world around him. Even in the down and dirty world of politics, commentators are careful to introduce him as "Dr. Carson." He is granted a degree of automatic deference.

If Carson were neither black nor a physician, his candidacy would be a joke. Even among the pandering, far right, buffoonish collection of GOP candidates, his inexperience and irrationality would be glaring disqualifications.

In 1963, shortly after Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote his famous Letter from Birmingham Jail, the more radical Malcolm X warned about black men whose stature within the white community afforded a level of privilege, a phenomenon going all the way back to slavery. Such a man, he said, "doesn't identify himself with your plight whatsoever," and slows progress toward racial justice.

52 years later, "such a man" may stand at the threshold of the White House.

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