The parlous state of American political culture in 2019 is distressing. How it got to that point is the subject of two exquisitely timed books, both of which address the crisis of the current moment by presenting American history as a history of reason and deception. Fantasyland by Kurt Andersen tells the story as polemic; These Truths by Jill Lepore tells it as intellectual history. Fantasyland explains how America “went haywire” over five centuries. These Truths is more scholarly and disciplined, asking a question first posed by Alexander Hamilton: Can a society govern itself by reason and choice, rather than by force and duplicity? Both texts explore the ebbs and flows of reason in American political culture with the spectre of Donald Trump stalking each chapter. Both books also prompt Canadians to think about the susceptibility of this country to the troubles afflicting the United States.
A journalist by trade, Andersen argues that the roots of unreason are baked into the socio-political model. The freedom to believe and say anything embedded in the marketplace of ideas offers space for any and every idea. As deference to establishment religions, politics and social norms melted away, Truth was left to compete not for the mantle of validity but for market share. Over the generations, this process has occurred in news media, politics, academics, science, entertainment and advertising. By 2016, the result was the unmooring of reality from any notion of truth.
The tales he tells are vivid, judgmental and delivered with the self-righteousness of Howard Beale. From the first failed attempts at settlement in Virginia by gold speculators and tobacco farmers, to the rise of Trump, the common theme of history is fantasy. Over four centuries, delusional thinking and purveyors of misinformation would rise and fall across American society. In politics, religion and the arts and sciences, the victory of charlatanism would mark the generations.
Fantasyland concludes with the caution that America's progress depends on holding off the forces of delusion. This is not itself a deep insight, but Andersen's core historical argument is seductive—that Enlightenment Truth and Protestant dissent coexist uneasily, with unreason prevailing more often than not. It would be persuasive if not for the overwhelming success of the American project. Despite the history Andersen tells, American society is extraordinarily successful. This basic reality is underplayed in Fantasyland, undercutting the persuasiveness of Andersen's account. There is also the problem of equal blame. His shotgun approach hits everyone across the political spectrum, from left-wing anti-vaxxers and academic postmodernists to Christian groups and the alt-right. While the jeremiad is fun to read, the absence of a firm stance on who or what is most responsible is disappointing.
The academic historian Jill Lepore has no reservations about placing blame. She attributes the current crisis to the forces that emerged from the New Right in the 1960s. But to appreciate the political challenge of the Trump era, we have to understand the unique intellectual project that underpins the American system. These Truths contends that the idea of America is premised on four foundations: political equality, natural rights, sovereignty of the people and free inquiry. Lepore presents a remarkable history of these ideals in constant opposition to power and force, circling back to Hamilton's original question. From Columbus, to the Civil War, to Jim Crow, to the internet, Lepore shows that the arc of history does not necessarily bend toward reason. Periods of upheaval and progress challenge core precepts of the American experiment. With the long view in mind, the original American promise has largely been vindicated, with more freedom available to more people than ever before.
In our times, the borders of truth have blurred, and Lepore is more pointed than Andersen in placing blame on the political right wing. This is not to say that she lets the Left off the hook; she is no fan of identity-based grievance politics. But the success of the political right from Nixon to Trump, and the culture wars in between, suggests who is to blame. Lepore is especially contemptuous of professional political campaign specialists and public opinion pollsters, both of which emerged in America in the 1930s and revolutionized politics. Whether or not we accept Lepore's critiques, public trust in these institutions is at a historic low in 2019. Combined with the new phenomenon of online misinformation campaigns run at light speed and the unforgiving 24-hour news cycle, the cumulative effect is a divided public and debased public discourse.
Though the books focus exclusively on the US experience, Canadians should take note. Since the two countries are North American neighbours, what happens next door concerns all Canadians. This country is not immune from fake news, fantasy, extreme partisanship and epistemic dissolution. Since the emergence of Donald Trump, darker forces of xenophobia, extremism and white nationalism have insinuated themselves into the Canadian public consciousness. And it is no comfort to fall back on assumptions that Canada is somehow immune. Canadian citizens and scholars must confront uncomfortable questions: Is Canada truly exceptional? Is this country uniquely resistant to the pathologies currently infecting the American polity? These matters should be addressed with renewed urgency—especially as they relate to concerns about the durability of multiculturalism, the integrity of elections, the trust in elected leaders, and the susceptibility of individuals to fake news and political parties to extremist elements. Indeed, the concern at the heart of These Truths—can a society govern itself by reason and not duplicity—is equally applicable to the Canadian context.
Scholars will find These Truths a more stimulating work for the philosophical and historical challenge it poses and for its model of writing social history. Lepore does not yield to the “great man” impulse. Rather, the book provides a history of enormous scope that gives prominence to overlooked women and people of colour alongside figures in the American pantheon. Fantasyland is not especially useful as an academic resource, though its short and engaging chapters are perfect for undergraduate syllabi.
Both books conclude with the enduring question of “What is to be done?” Lepore turns to the new generation of Americans to right the ship of state and “to learn an ancient and nearly forgotten art: how to navigate by the stars” (789). By this she means using objective standards to measure claims to truth, with the same fidelity as the sailors whose lives depended on it. Kurt Andersen is less metaphorical. He says fight the good fight in public and in private and practice good informational hygiene. The current state of affairs is not inevitable, but neither is a restoration of reason. Both authors demand that we teach the children well; the fate of America depends on it.
