More on Smarm

Speaking of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde . . . .¹

I'd like to add a bit to Tom Scocca's essay “On Smarm” (on Gawker.com) from the point of view of metaphorical thinking.² Here's how Scocca characterizes the social phenomenon of smarm:
“Smarm is a kind of performance—an assumption of the forms of seriousness, of virtue, of constructiveness, without the substance. Smarm is concerned with appropriateness and with tone. . . . the major themes or attitudes of smarm [include] the scolding, the gestures at inclusiveness, the appeal to virtue and maturity. . . . It expresses one agenda, while actually pursuing a different one. It is a kind of moral and ethical misdirection.”

I feel like I understand smarm pretty well. I grew up in its culture; I see it all around me even now. In some ways, it is the very fabric of society, which is why (as I explained in an earlier post) I have learned to prefer the hammock to the canopy.³ It is essentially conservative; it passes its users off as cultured and thus superior. The liberal economist Paul Krugman has often used his blog on NYTimes.com to discuss the great need of the super-rich to be respected, their insistence on good manners by others toward them, their need to be not questioned. Here's a recent example: “They [plutocrats] can and all too often do surround themselves with courtiers who tell them what they want to hear. . . . They're accustomed to being treated with deference, not just by the people they hire but by politicians who want their campaign contributions.” And yet, because their money insulates them from the reality most of us live in and also gives them so much power, they develop “political and economic views that combine paranoia and megalomania.”⁴ Hence, the danger.

Thinking metaphorically, however, has given me some new insights into the problem of smarm. Let me tell you of one of my own experiences with it, as an example. I was once pressed to lead a group that I had only recently joined. The group had just come through some rending experiences (before my arrival), which had reduced the size of the group and left a fair amount of bad vibes. I will take on leadership positions when it's helpful, but I much prefer to be a thinker in the background. I liked the people in this group for the most part and no one else seemed able or willing to do the job, so I accepted the role. Shortly after I did so, great problems among members of the group arose again. One person decided to leave the group but wanted to speak to the group openly first. I thought this was a good idea, considering that old issues were still obviously simmering and affecting the group negatively. I believe that it is better (more constructive) to be honest than to be polite, when possible. This person showed me a written copy of what he wanted to say, and I told him to go ahead with speaking out his ideas at our next meeting.

Well, his hurt and negative feelings were not appreciated by the group. One woman in the group said to me later, “Obviously, none of that should have been said at all.” I took this to be a critique of my leadership, and I very much disagreed with that word “obviously” but there was no opportunity to discuss this. Not long afterwards, the previous leader of the group (a woman I felt very warm towards) strongly suggested that I should move on to another group—I was no longer wanted there. I had broken the facade of smarm, or had allowed it to be broken, so I no longer had any place in the group. There was no discussion of why I made the decision I did to let that member speak openly; there was absolutely no consideration that maybe there was some virtue to that decision; there was no open discussion among members. I had apparently committed a great sin and was simply encouraged to leave.

It seems that the group needed to preserve a facade of friendliness and happiness at all costs and that that facade was much more important than any real group or individual experience. As Scocca has put it, the smarmer “is disgusted and wounded by it all. To say nothing of disappointed that the [truth-tellers] should have betrayed the promise of a more civil world.” In my experience, women tend to be much more smarmy than men, and I have throughout my life felt a great deal of pressure, as a woman, to falsely support certain groups (starting with family) even when they have caused me much unhappiness and had problems that really needed to be addressed. It has been a clear message throughout my life: the well-being of the group should be more important in your life than your own individual well-being. Perhaps I would have been better prepared for this experience if I had previously understood consciously what Scocca has expressed: “The evasion of disputes is a defining tactic of smarm. Smarm . . . insists that the audience accept the priors it has been given.” In other words, a group implicitly defines its own reality, which all its members have to accept or no longer remain in the group. The problem here, of course, is that smarm thus allows for no growth or creativity. Also, since I was so newly a member of the group, I did not understand the “priors” of the group very well or the nature of the troubles it had been having. 
 
Anyway, what happened with this group, what happens with smarm generally, is that an abstract concept is given great priority over concrete realities. Any real fact that doesn't fit the abstract self-understanding of the group must be ignored or even punished. As Scocca has said, “A disagreeable attitude is one thing, but a disagreeable fact is much worse.” I find Scocca's theory that “Smarm hopes to fill the cultural or political or religious void left by the collapse of authority, undermined by modernity and post-modernity” very interesting and quite possibly true. But anytime abstract goals are given precedence over individual experience and thus cause individual suffering, those abstract goals must be questioned lest they lean toward the inhumane.

I do agree with Scocca that smarm, or the preference of the abstract over the concrete, is a serious problem in our society and in our world. And that's why I write this blog—to ask again and again that we at least balance the abstract with the concrete, if not give preference to the concrete. Giving preference to the concrete might mean overdoing generosity (thus conservative concerns about welfare, etc.), but giving preference to the abstract can create monsters, like Dr. Jekyll, the creator and enabler of Mr. Hyde.

1See my previous post “Fear of the Deep,” from 2/14/2014.

2http://gawker.com/on-smarm-1476594977

3See my earlier post “Hammock & Canopy,” 12/6/2013.

4http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/27/opinion/krugman-paranoia-of-the-plutocrats.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss