The left is not right

What does the culture war look like once you've switched sides?

Photo by Mateusz Wacławek on Unsplash

A few years ago, I considered myself a card carrying member of the left. I felt pretty certain that, in being a lefty, I was on the right side of virtue. It seemed very clear to me that the positions that are called left - like being pro gun control or pro choice - were on the side of good. On the important issues there was one way to think and one way only. Being opposed to the right way (which was the left one) meant you were ignorant or misguided at best, greedy, selfish, and hateful at worst. I was at the height of my “leftness” when Donald Trump won in 2017 and I mourned and gnashed my teeth like every other self-respecting leftist did, wondering how there were so many awful people who could have elected a villain like that.

My convictions in the superiority of my beliefs started to shift when I first ran for mayor in 2018. When I knocked on doors I met people opposed to gun control who neither fit into my stereotypes nor sounded like raving militiamen. I met people opposed to immigration who were kind, intelligent and often were immigrants themselves. I met people who didn’t like bike lanes (one of the most cardinal sins ever for my bicycle loving heart!) but who were smart, funny and didn’t actually want anyone to be run over by a car.

Still, I felt these people were exceptions to the rule, and while I softened some of my antipathy towards those on on the other side, I still felt pretty secure that I was right about being on the team of the good guys. But other cracks in the foundation of my certainty started - like my feelings about the Democrat vs Republican battle to the south. Near the end of Trump’s presidency I started to question a prime tenet of the left - constant denunciation of Donald Trump - not because I liked or sympathized with him, but it seemed to me that there was a kind of cultural addiction to slamming him 24/7 that was devolving into tribalism and childishness rather than intelligent critique. I was also confused when he wasn’t given at least a bit of credit for pulling back from some of the US military interventions - I figured the fact that defense spending that was lower than some of Obama’s and reduction in foreign troops seemed good even if it was Trump doing it. Didn’t we on the left say we wanted less military?

Then came March 2020 and all the restrictions, mandates, and suppression of dissent. Right from day one I was at odds with most of my peers, friends and family in my opinion of the COVID response. Once lockdowns were sold as being the only response to ensure the common good, it only took a week or two for the left to be strongly associated with being pro lockdown (and later, pro mandates). And once that happened, if you were opposed to them it meant you were extreme right, lacking in compassion, uncaring about the vulnerable, and without a belief or understanding of science. Even though much of the right wing was also initially in support of many of these measures, as time went by it became clear that that the pro mandate position was claimed by the left. Progressive businesses and non profits proclaimed and enforced their COVID measures with pride (the stricter the better!), and were the first to implement mandates and the last to remove them (some require proof of vaccination even today). When I spoke up in opposition to these mandates I was called right wing and unofficially expelled from the left. And once I went to the convoy and was told that meant I was not only right but part of the “alt right” then I really knew I was out of the club.

Being unwelcome and sometimes actively excluded (due to vax mandates) from my left wing tribe, and being lumped in with all the “extreme” right wingers, meant I had to look at my fellow outsiders with different eyes. All of a sudden I listened to public figures like Rex Murphy and Tucker Carlson and didn’t feel personally threatened by their views. I also spoke with ordinary individuals who didn’t subscribe to left wing views, and since I was supposedly on their side now so I figured I might as well hear what they had to say.

I learned that being anti immigration policies doesn’t mean you’re anti immigrant. I don’t think people are hateful who are worried about immigration, and I’m still personally supportive of open borders. I learned that being opposed to gun control legislation doesn’t mean you want more school shootings and my own experience of authoritarianism has led me to question whether gun control is the right approach. I learned that being pro life doesn’t mean you are a misogynist and I still think anti abortion laws don’t work and are the wrong way to go.

I watched news pieces by outlets that I disdained before, like National Post and Rebel News. At a community event outside of Toronto I found myself clapping with the crowd as political speakers called for an end to public funding of the CBC. Me, against the CBC? I’d been a lifelong fan (certainly of CBC radio at least) and to hear myself opposing our public broadcaster made me feel like I was living in Wonderand with Alice. (I’m still not sure where I fall in my support for the news side of the CBC now, though they interviewed me in my recent mayoral campaign so they can’t be all bad).

When I first left the left I fell into the exact same mind trap I was in before. Instead of thinking right wingers were the bad guys, I thought left wingers were. Instead of feeling superior to the right, I felt superior to the left. Instead of being angered by and shutting out right wing analyses and opinions that conflicted with my own, I rejected left wing ones (some of them at least). I applied the same pejorative adjectives (mostly in my own mind, but sometimes aloud too) I’d used in the past, only now they were aimed at my former comrades who all disagreed with me on COVID.

But I couldn’t settle comfortably into my rejection of the left. When I thought I was left wing, it was easy to feel at home there, because most people I interacted with on a daily basis considered themselves to be progressive to some degree - Canadians on the whole (or Soviet Canuckistans as Pat Buchanan called us in 2002), especially those in cities, tend to be liberal. But when I switched camps there was a limit to how far I could go in my disdain for the left, for a few reasons. One, I held onto some of the beliefs that are considered to be left - for example that too many cars aren’t good for cities, or that we should probably cut back on the large scale resource exploration. Two, I had been a lefty and knew I meant well at the time. Three, so many people I love had or still have strong belief in mandates, which meant I might be angry at their views, but I couldn’t dismiss them - if I cut myself off from everyone who disagreed with me on COVID I’d have lost half my family and most of my friends. So I had to re-examine what it meant when people disagreed with me on issues that I cared about.

I’m just now starting to come out of the fog of what some are now calling the culture wars. I can say I’ve been on both sides of it and my conclusion is that none of us are right. All of us have deeply personal reasons for holding our personal beliefs. Some of us feel strongly, some of us don’t, and many people don’t care at all. Lumping everyone into categories like right wing or left wing ignores the fact that we are all human beings, entitled to our experiences and to our opinions.

When we take sides in the culture wars - which social media and our news agencies love because it’s so profitable for them - we all end up as victims. Just as no one truly wins a war, no one can nor should win the culture war. By stepping back and remembering that those on the opposite side of any given belief have legitimate reasons for feeling the way we do, we can stop ridiculing them and turning them into our enemies. We are perfectly entitled to have our own views on any issue. But when I find myself getting riled up again over something I see or read related to left right politics, I find it really helps to remember my views are just opinions that aren’t necessarily correct. I’m allowed to have them, and pretty comfortable with them at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I’m right (or Right), and it certainly doesn’t mean that the people who disagree with me are my enemies.

We hurl insults in the culture wars rather than bombs. But the insults we hurl aren’t helping whatever side we think we’re on. First of all, they hurt sometimes (I feel bad when people insult me). Secondly, our insults and/or attitudes of superiority make it hard for those who disagree to reconsider their position from our point of view. Finally, when we insult someone else it usually harms us too. It separates us from our fellow humans. And, I know that while my anger might give me a temporary surge of self-righteous adrenaline, it ultimately ends up making me feel much worse.

I know I’m not likely to change my mind about some of my beliefs - like the importance of civil liberties even during a pandemic (which I guess is a right wing belief?) anytime soon. But I think we can still end the culture wars without needing to either surrender or win. I will do my best to be a draft dodger and participate in them as little possible. And I’ll do it by trying to engage in debate only when I’m feeling curious and receptive and the other person is too. By resisting my tendency to paint people with broad swathes just because they have an opinion I disagree with. By noticing when I’m angry at someone for seeing things differently and giving myself time to cool off when my temperature is rising. By considering that it’s possible that other people might be right or have knowledge that I don’t possess. By remembering that we are all divine and beautiful beings no matter what we think. And, by being grateful for all diversity - even in thought and opinion - that makes our lives on this planet such an interesting journey.