Squaring the Frame
A friend dropped by my store last evening and, as often will happen, our discussion evolved (or degenerated) into talk of a specific national policy issue. This friend made an observation that has my gears turning and I thought I'd do a little survey - on this blog and through observation, as well.
The theory? It is unwise to assume a convergence between one's interests and one's politics.
The professor seemed to be sharing hard-earned accumulated wisdom from empirical evidence.
Do people who share an interest in fine wines coalesce around the same political views? Do readers of literary fiction vote the same way? Do drivers of hybrid-fueled vehicles support the same candidates?
We often assume our friends, because they are our friends, share our politics. We assume that members of our Lions Club, because they evidently have a bent for community service, would share our views on, say, drilling for oil in the Alaska National Wildlife Reserve.
It was a needed reminder to me, especially as a retailer in contact with a wide public, that the folks who patronize my store and evince a love for particular books may not share my own views when it comes to an issue like, for example, the Freedom to Read Act.
I came across a rather different take last evening on Eric Alterman's Web log, Altercation (you'll have to scroll down to his correspondents' corner). In discussing the resurgence of a conservatism that was all but pronounced dead in 1964, the correspondent said:
By defining the "exurb" as a discrete cultural unit, and by telling the people whose finances and psychologies put them there that their hopes and fears match the Republican Party's agenda, you're practicing lifestyle-as-politics -- especially when you create a coalition combining exurban with rural folks by pitting them against decadent urban elites.
On the evidence, I'd have to say that shared lifestyles has indeed become a remarkable indicator of voting patterns and this phenomenon has been ruthlessly exploited by the GOP's uber-advisor Karl Rove. That's the nature of electoral politics - capture the majority, and devil take the hindmost.
I'll be watching over the next several months to see if my preliminary observations bear out.
Will the attendees at Saturday's Earth Day celebration at the Falls of the Ohio State Park also salute the same political issues or leaders? Do advocates of a renewed Farmers Market in downtown New Albany converge politically? Do flavored-coffee drinkers support one party while espresso-slammers support the other?
The opportunities to observe are endless. But remember this telling statistic: even in the supposedly homogenous "new" Southern Baptist Convention, more than 40% of these evangelicals voted for Democratic Party nominee Al Gore in 2000. There's a pretty large sample that proves my friend's point.
The theory? It is unwise to assume a convergence between one's interests and one's politics.
The professor seemed to be sharing hard-earned accumulated wisdom from empirical evidence.
Do people who share an interest in fine wines coalesce around the same political views? Do readers of literary fiction vote the same way? Do drivers of hybrid-fueled vehicles support the same candidates?
We often assume our friends, because they are our friends, share our politics. We assume that members of our Lions Club, because they evidently have a bent for community service, would share our views on, say, drilling for oil in the Alaska National Wildlife Reserve.
It was a needed reminder to me, especially as a retailer in contact with a wide public, that the folks who patronize my store and evince a love for particular books may not share my own views when it comes to an issue like, for example, the Freedom to Read Act.
I came across a rather different take last evening on Eric Alterman's Web log, Altercation (you'll have to scroll down to his correspondents' corner). In discussing the resurgence of a conservatism that was all but pronounced dead in 1964, the correspondent said:
By defining the "exurb" as a discrete cultural unit, and by telling the people whose finances and psychologies put them there that their hopes and fears match the Republican Party's agenda, you're practicing lifestyle-as-politics -- especially when you create a coalition combining exurban with rural folks by pitting them against decadent urban elites.
On the evidence, I'd have to say that shared lifestyles has indeed become a remarkable indicator of voting patterns and this phenomenon has been ruthlessly exploited by the GOP's uber-advisor Karl Rove. That's the nature of electoral politics - capture the majority, and devil take the hindmost.
I'll be watching over the next several months to see if my preliminary observations bear out.
Will the attendees at Saturday's Earth Day celebration at the Falls of the Ohio State Park also salute the same political issues or leaders? Do advocates of a renewed Farmers Market in downtown New Albany converge politically? Do flavored-coffee drinkers support one party while espresso-slammers support the other?
The opportunities to observe are endless. But remember this telling statistic: even in the supposedly homogenous "new" Southern Baptist Convention, more than 40% of these evangelicals voted for Democratic Party nominee Al Gore in 2000. There's a pretty large sample that proves my friend's point.
posted by All4Word at 11:18 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home