Ready-Made

Before moving to the U.S., I can only recall one instance during which I felt profoundly uncomfortable expressing my opinions to the people around me. It was in the seventh grade: for fear of being ostracized by my new friends, I could not bring myself to tell them that I had actually hated Titanic.

My time here, however, has been filled with awkward silences. Public opinion in America is overwhelmingly powerful. The most prominent example in my experience has been the Arab-Israeli conflict. I was surprised to find that even my most liberal classmates of all religious backgrounds had pro-Israel sympathies and quickly learned that to challenge them would almost inevitably provoke intense disapproval. There was what seemed like an automated response, or to quote Alexis de Tocqueville, a “ready made opinion” that followed by default, even from people who didn’t know a thing about politics.

Tocqueville described this phenomenon in 1835: “As long as the majority is still undecided, discussion is carried on; but as soon as its decision is irrevocably pronounced, a submissive silence is observed, and the friends, as well as the opponents of the measure unite in assenting to its propriety.” In other words, once something is “decided”—that Iran is a “rogue state,” for example—it’s hard not to give in and assume the role of an awkward seventh grader feigning feelings for Leo (or, against Mr. Ahmadinejad) to avoid sitting alone at lunchtime. Convinced that everyone else is of a certain opinion and afraid of the consequences of disagreeing, the subject becomes complicit.

The majority agrees that Ahmadinejad has acted in a morally reprehensible way. But the paradox of free speech is that two weeks ago, it was impossible for anyone to support his speaking without a disclaimer: “He’s an evil guy but...” I think Ahmadinejad’s inflammatory statements are more of a political tool than actual opinion, but I barely had the courage to say so at the time. Had there been anyone who genuinely supported his views, the tyranny of public opinion would not have given them the chance to say so either. I don’t doubt that President Bollinger believed every word he said, but had he not felt so strongly, I maintain that he would have said so nonetheless.

In seventh grade, one girl said she thought Leo DiCaprio was ugly, so we told everyone she was a lesbian. On the Israel-Palestine question, I was silenced by absurd accusations of anti-Semitism. Add Sept. 11 to the equation, and it becomes even more difficult to dare to think freely.

Saddam Hussein was implicated in Sept. 11 because of the aforementioned mechanism. Little by little, the Iraq-Al-Qaeda connection became common knowledge—perhaps not to the educated elite, but to many people whose votes matter. When Ahmadinejad was denied access to Ground Zero, it looked like this perverse manipulation would reoccur, that pluralistic ignorance would set in and that no one (and by no one I mean no sizeable portion of the public) would think otherwise until Michael Moore made another movie.

I think we can agree that Michael Moore is the poster child for lonely lunches. Lots of lunches.

It’s frighteningly easy to buy into “ready made opinions.” Of course, this is not exclusive to America. People tend to enjoy fitting in, no matter what society they belong to. But I have found them to be much more prevalent here. I can only speculate that it is due to the combination of inflated mass media, the presentation of current affairs as entertainment, and a patriotism that is expressed politically rather than culturally. If things are presented in black and white, it’s hard to think in color. It’s difficult to question that which is presented as self-evident.

I realized I was as guilty of being uncritical of public opinion last summer when I visited Iran myself. Now, I had pretensions typical of any Columbia student—I’d read Orientalism, after all—but I also have family in Iran, an Iranian passport, and throngs of Iranian family friends. I didn’t think I was misled when I anticipated my trip in June 2006 with a mixture of dread and anxiety, but it turned out that I could not have been more wrong. Reading the news and listening to people talk about Iran made me expect to see donkeys and armed soldiers on the street; it made me think I would get a taste of an uncivilized lifestyle, and as a female, to feel degraded and discriminated against. Instead, I felt relaxed, happy, not self-conscious in the least, and impressed by the country’s culture and the meticulous upkeep of public spaces. To think that I actually believed what I’d heard is downright embarrassing.

I’m certain that many of you are less impressionable than I am. You may see through everything on television and in the papers and on the streets. Perhaps you are more used living in America, or simply braver. Whatever your situation, it’s crucial to speak up—and question everything.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in philosophy.
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