Assholes Read online

  16. Many assholes may have what psychologists call “narcissistic personality disorder,” which is generally very resistant to therapeutic treatment. As psychologist Sander Koole explained (in conversation), when the therapist asks, “How do you feel?” the narcissist answers, “I feel I am not getting the respect I deserve.” While this is characteristic of narcissistic personality disorder, we are not assuming that every such person counts as an asshole. Being an asshole is probably only one version of the disorder. Even so, the near plague of narcissism in our culture might explain why there are more assholes than there used to be. We touch upon this theme at several points later.

  17. As Kant illustrates, even in encountering “a humble plain man, in whom I perceive righteousness in a higher degree than I am conscious of in myself, my mind bows whether I choose or not, however high I carry my head that he may not forget my superior position.” Kant is responding to this remark by French popular philosopher Bernard Le Bovier de Fontenelle: “I bow to a great man, but my mind does not bow.” “Of the Drives of Pure Practical Reason,” in Critique of Practical Reason, 3rd ed., ed. and trans. Lewis White Beck (New York: Macmillan, 1993), part 1, book 1, chap. 3, 80. For related discussion, see also Lectures on Ethics, trans. Louis Infield with foreword by Lewis White Beck (1963; repr., London: Methuen, 1979), 126–29.

  18. Or at least in this one reading of Kant’s idea that self-love becomes self-conceit when it “makes itself legislative and the unconditional practical principle” (Critique of Practical Reason, p. 77). It also fits with the passage from Lectures on Ethics (p. 128) quoted in the epigraph, in which Kant speaks of the conceited person taking a “lenient view of the moral law” and thus having a “false standard.” We develop the point further in “Letter to an Asshole.”

  19. See Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Émile; or, On Education, trans. Allan Bloom (New York: Basic Books, 1979).

  20. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, “Discourse on the Origins and Foundations of Inequality Among Men,” in A Discourse on Inequality, trans. Maurice Cranston (New York: Penguin, 1984).

  21. In Émile, Rousseau speaks of “inflamed amour propre” (p. 247) as well as the difficulty of overcoming this mentality (see the passage on p. 245, which is quoted in the epigraph). We return to Rousseau’s view that destructive status consciousness has a social cause and a political solution in chapter 7.

  22. See T. M. Scanlon, What We Owe to Each Other (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1998), and especially Stephen Darwall, The Second-Person Standpoint: Morality, Respect, and Accountability (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006).

  23. But can’t one be an asshole for kicking a dog? It seems so, though I’m not sure one would count as an asshole (as opposed to being simply cruel) if one only kicked dogs and treated people perfectly well. But maybe; we can leave the matter open.

  24. Thomas Nagel, The Possibility of Altruism (1970; repr., Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979). Nagel uses this phrase to explain how the ethical egoist, who only sees reason to do what is ultimately in his own interests, fails to see himself as but one among equally real others, and so falls into a kind of solipsism. The asshole is not the pure egoist, but otherwise we merely have a different emphasis: the objector seeks to intrude upon the asshole’s solipsistic view of the moral world.

  25. Thus one post to the Urban Dictionary says the asshole is “Someone who seriously needs their ass kicked” (Thomas Huang, www.​urban​dicti​onary.​com/​define.​php?​term=​asshole&page=17). The asshole is interestingly said to himself need rough treatment. Perhaps he is better off, on balance, with a few bruises, having come to see the error of his ways. Our suggestion here is not that this is false, but that rough treatment is largely pointless, because it has little to no chance of bringing the asshole around.

  26. Wallace, “Certainly the End of Something or Other,” in Consider the Lobster, 59.

  27. Nietzsche’s Übermensch famously stands beyond conventional morality and prizes the assertion of self above all. As far as I can tell, he can be read in different ways: either as rejecting morality altogether, as endorsing the true universalistic morality of personal authenticity, or as endorsing special privileges for the few who are courageous enough to assert themselves in ways that are in principle available to all. He’s closest to the asshole in the latter reading.

  [2] NAMING NAMES

  Having defined what it is to be an asshole, we now consider who qualifies. Our general definition will not, by itself, name names. It leaves to us the delicate job of investigating assholes in their particularity. A theory seeks not to defame but rather to taxonomize—that is, to build a moral typology in the style of Aristotle and the biological sciences he eventually inspired. Given the teeming asshole ecosystem laid before us in history and public life, our task is to identify the best specimens and classify them according to their kinds.

  “JUDGE NOT”?

  To classify is to judge. Public figures voluntarily submit their candidacy for assholehood to the court of public opinion. Yet we might worry: Is it our place to judge? Does respect for a moral equal, even an asshole equal, require that we “judge not”? In judging that someone is an asshole, do we in effect appoint ourselves to a high court—itself an asshole move?1

  Not necessarily. If our theory is right, there exists a certain type of moral personality, and it is an objective matter of fact who is or who is not a person of that moral kind. To classify someone as an asshole is not necessarily to swear at him but rather to represent him as the asshole he is, if only for the sake of understanding who the assholes are as distinct from everyone else. We needn’t even ultimately disapprove. We might take General MacArthur to be an asshole, for example, and yet find the world better, on balance, because of him. Perhaps Japan would not have developed as successfully as it did after World War II had MacArthur not guided the early reconstruction with a sure if heavy hand. Perhaps MacArthur’s asshole nature and the deferential Japanese culture were an especially fortunate match. Perhaps, all told, MacArthur was a force for good.

  As we classify, we do so provisionally. We happily admit that any examples are properly controversial. To take someone to be an asshole is to make a moral claim about when a person’s sense of entitlement exceeds what morality really justifies. Because we often won’t agree about when that is so, especially not in public life, there is no separating a particular asshole judgment from a larger moral and political argument about entitlements people have or don’t have. I can’t make such arguments in a serious way here, so I instead freely offer my own moral opinions, as nothing more than that, mainly for illustrative purposes. Where you disagree with my (left-leaning) political opinions, you might search for a better exemplar of the same general kind.

  Public figures are often misrepresented, so naming names poses a risk of unfairness to real people. The public record is itself invariably selective, and we can hardly offer an exhaustive analysis even of what is publicly known. Our aim therefore is not to offer final judgments, but only to tentatively suggest various possible candidates in light of corroborative details. Even seemingly telling details may mislead, however, so to anyone who is misclassified, we apologize ahead of time. As with any taxonomic enterprise, we stand ready to update and revise, in hopes of eventually getting things right. Is it nevertheless an asshole move to publicly name names, perhaps by publishing a book about assholes? I hope not. For one thing, it is fair to say that, by publicly misbehaving, the people we name have voluntarily assumed the risk of being called unpleasant names. And in any case, most have already been called an asshole, or an even worse name, and so stand to suffer no further injury merely for being considered a possible asshole in light of evidence already available. Still, if we are unfair, despite our sincere effort to taxonomize with due care, our preemptive apology stands.

  So as not to cast the very first stone, we had better start by asking about ourselves: Am I an asshole? Here is one possible test: if you would be wil
ling to call yourself an asshole, this indicates that you are not in fact one. This particular test is flawed; as we have already observed, assholes often shamelessly own the name. Better (but still imperfect) is a test of shame: whether one is at all worried by the thought that one counts as an asshole. To the extent that this thought—“An asshole? Me? Really?”—prompts a sense of shame, perhaps with a felt need to take stock and reflect, one probably, to that extent, is not an asshole. (It is fine if you feel a sudden temporary thrill in the idea of transgression or special powers—as one might, for instance, in the thought of bearing Plato’s ring of Gyges, which makes its wearer invisible and so able to avoid accountability.2 If you’d feel shame in the idea of actually going through with the transgressions, though, you’re probably in the clear.) On the other hand, if the thought of counting as an asshole gives you no pause, if you retort “whatever,” or if you feel a stable sense of delight, this is evidence, albeit inconclusive, that you are an asshole. If you feel ambivalent, perhaps wondering whether there is some way to pull off being an asshole, you may be a borderline or half-assed asshole—not quite a proper, full-fledged asshole but nevertheless an important kind of asshole.3

  We unfortunately lack an equally straightforward test for judging others.4 There is also less need for one. The fact is that assholes are not especially difficult to spot. The asshole himself will recognize an asshole (and indeed sometimes compete with him for favorable position). But does it take an asshole to know an asshole? No, manifestly not. Of necessity, most people are not assholes, since a critical mass of cooperators is required if there are to be special advantages for the asshole to take. And yet most people have little difficulty singling assholes out.

  A careful eye is, however, required in order to discern the subtle differences in asshole styles; and here we have no way forward other than the inspection of potential examples in detail. Our theory requires that the asshole be mistakenly entrenched in entitlement, but it is otherwise neutral about what sort of error he is making; he can be wrong about what he is entitled to in any number of ways for any number of reasons. It is thus an open question what the different styles of assholes are. This allows us to respect Aristotle’s wise maxim that we should not expect precision from a theory beyond what its subject matter will bear. If poetry is not math, neither is virtue and vice. Still less so is the fluid variety of asshole vices. We thus proceed inductively, as Aristotle might. We examine an array of exemplars in hope that different asshole kinds will emerge.

  BOORISH ASSHOLE

  To begin, consider the asshole boor. A person can be boorish, insensitive, or rude without being an asshole; he might have good intentions and no sense of entitlement and yet be unable to read social cues. A boorish asshole, by contrast, is willfully insensitive to normal boundaries of courtesy or respect. He is usually out in the open about this, and even proud of that fact.

  So, for example, Noel Gallagher of Oasis, arguably the most self-consciously asshole rock band in history, trashes other artists seemingly just for the pleasure of mouthing off.5 Radio host Rush Limbaugh is also conspicuously rude, but to enormous personal profit in money and political influence. Filmmaker Michael Moore is slightly more coy, dressing up sloppy treatment of his subjects in a cloak of social morality. In each of these cases, rudeness is born not of mere insensitivity but of a sense of entitlement to set courtesy and respect aside. Gallagher presumes that pop success itself gives him license to do and say whatever he wants.6 Both Limbaugh and Moore would presumably cite their greater causes, whether it is stopping the liberal menace (Limbaugh) or standing up for the workingman against corporate fat cats (Moore).7

  A more subtle case is the influential early-twentieth-century American journalist, essayist, and critic H. L. Mencken. Here he is on presidents of the United States:

  Woodrow Wilson: A “pedagogue gone mashugga.”

  Calvin Coolidge: The “intelligence of a lawn dog,” his career “as appalling and as fascinating as a two-headed boy.”

  Herbert Hoover: “The perfect self-seeker.… His principles are so vague that even his intimates seem unable to put them into words,… He knows who his masters are, and he will serve them.”

  Warren G. Harding: “The master of a language in which the relations between word and meaning have long since escaped him.… [Harding’s style] reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the wall … of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it.”8

  It is perhaps not a coincidence that Mencken celebrated the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche with the following praise: “No epithet was too outrageous, no charge was too far-fetched, no manipulation or interpretation of evidence was too daring, to enter into his ferocious indictment.”9 Mencken would know; he nicely described himself.

  SMUG ASSHOLE

  While a boorish asshole feels right in setting courtesy or respect aside, he won’t necessarily be smug about it. Indeed, he may have nagging fears about his inadequacy and choose offense as the best defense. The smug asshole, by contrast, is comfortable in his sense that others are inferior, and indeed presumes that others should well expect him to behave as their better.

  Mencken’s boorishness, for example, seems to reveal a settled confidence in his manifest intellectual superiority. Oxford biologist Richard Dawkins is similarly self-assured in his broadside against theism and religious belief, The God Delusion.10 He writes cocksurely that the views of millions of reasonable and intelligent people (even if ultimately mistaken) have no merit whatsoever and feels entitled to give sloppy treatment to arguments for the existence of God that have seriously engaged philosophers for thousands of years.11 Larry Summers, who served in both the Clinton and Obama administrations and as president of Harvard University, betrays supreme self-confidence, even among his Harvard colleagues12 and especially in policy disputes. Economist Andrew Metrick recalls a telling conversation with Summers:

  Larry was complaining about the position Treasury was taking on some issue, and how he couldn’t dislodge them from their position, that they just wouldn’t budge. I said, “Well, Larry, maybe, they’re right.” He just looked at me and said, “That’s not an issue. I can win any argument. I can win arguing either side. But then I sit back and think, ‘Which side did I win more soundly and fairly?’ That’s usually the right answer.”13

  For smugness, however, there is of course no place like France. It has graced us with the great asshole novelist Gustave Flaubert. (With carefully crafted pretentiousness, Flaubert writes: “Woman is a vulgar animal from whom man has created an excessively beautiful ideal”; “Read much, but not many books”; “Exuberance is better than taste”; “There is no truth. There is only perception.”)14 The tradition of le smug asshole has been vigilantly preserved up to our day. Arrogant, contemptuous of lesser races, humorless, completely unwilling to admit a mistake. Et voilà!, Bernard-Henri Lévy (or “BHL”).

  He is the modern-day, self-appointed Tocqueville, a “God is dead but my hair is perfect”15 celebrity philosopher, who has recently written passionately in condemnation of the humiliating killing of Muammar Gaddafi:

  You can say that the man was a monster. You can replay again and again the scenes that for eight months have haunted the friends of free Libya—the images of mass executions, torture, the hangings of April 7, the prisoners who were sort of buried alive until released from their prisons by the revolution—these and so many other victims of the dictatorship. You can point out that Gaddafi had a hundred chances to negotiate, to stop it all, to save himself, and that, if he elected not to do so, if he preferred to bleed his people to the very end, he chose his fate knowingly.…

  I don’t buy it. I may be an incurable romantic, or what amounts to the same thing, an unreconstructed opponent of the absolute evil that I believe the death penalty to be. There is, in the spectacle of Gaddafi’s lynching, something revolting.16

  Except of
course that BHL had only months before called unequivocally for the West to militarily overthrow Gaddafi and then crowed publicly that he had had a hand in making that happen. (He was the dapper diplomat in a top secret mission that involved commandeering a vegetable truck across the Libyan border for a clandestine rendezvous with Libyan rebel forces. A subsequent late-night satellite phone call to President Sarkozy spurred France into action).17 While BHL had called for military action in previous conflicts, this one seems to have turned out unfortunately: How could he have expected that the guy would, you know, get killed? While he is clearly not so self-satisfied as to refuse to change his mind, he still seems quite satisfied with his dynamic, critical, metacritical, dialogical, persistent, relentless, self-proclamedly courageous posture of moral dissatisfaction. One can certainly appreciate his expressed humanitarian sentiment. One might even admire his voicing of moral outrage when no one else would, if he had forthrightly acknowledged a possible shift in his stance. Without that, we are left with moralistic smugness: a suggestion that the rest of us have been less than circumspect and now—unlike him—find ourselves complicit in an “absolute evil.”

  THE ASSHOLE BOSS

  We have so far examined people who seem to act from a deep feature of their personalities, quite aside from their particular social station or role. Perhaps more common, however, are cases in which assholery is socially induced, or at least exposed, because the person is placed in a position of power.

  The statement “My boss is such an asshole” has become something of a cliché. All too often it has an element of truth. For many people, a position of power becomes a standing license for privileges that do not necessarily come with the job—things such as barking orders when a polite request will do, routinely being late for staff meetings because of supposedly more pressing business, knowing that being the boss means never having to say “I’m sorry,” regularly reminding all who is in power, and so on. When questions arise, the asshole boss has a ready answer, his all-purpose entitlement afforded by his instituted role: “Tough. I am the boss.” But the asshole boss needn’t be boorish or overtly abusive. There are of course famous examples of bosses who are, such as supermodel Naomi Campbell, who assaulted her housekeeper with a cell phone, or General George Patton, who slapped a wounded soldier while touring a war hospital (apparently to get him to shape up). More familiar nowadays, from film and TV, is the boss whose misguided sense of superiority taints routine dealings in the workplace, as with the condescension of Bill Lumbergh in the comedy Office Space, or with David Brent’s excruciating insensitivity to his employees’ feelings in the British TV comedy The Office, or with the obnoxiousness and gross self-absorption of Michael Scott in the American version.