Carlos Lozada, What were we thinking: a brief intellectual history of the Trump era. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2020. ISBN: 9781982145620.
Up front I will admit that given the 2016 presidential election, "we" were not thinking much if at all. With that out of the way let's look at this book that claims to be "a brief intellectual history of the Trump era." Here again I wonder. Is it brief because not much intellectual was going on at the time? Or is it because the author kept it short for our sakes? I will let readers decide that one.
Carlos Lozada, by his own admission, has a dream job. He gets paid by The Washington Post to read and review books. I also dream of getting paid to review books though not necessarily by The Washington Post. For me, it would be nice if some small local, maybe regional outfit offered me a reviewing gig. Oh well, a blogger and writer can dream. Anyhow, Lozada pitches the idea of reading a good amount of the books published as Trump came to power, and he got approval. Lozada went on to read 150 books, and as he states, "that is just a fraction of the Trump canon" (2). This book is the result of that effort.
Lozada takes a pretty broad look at the books written in and about the Trump era. These are not only books about the man. In ten chapters, we get a look at books on various topics such as:
- "Heartlandia," which boils down to journalists doing the "white safari" to see what those wholesome folks think at the local diner.
- The "conservative pivot," trying to explain conservatives and they they stuck with Trump or opposed him.
- Author even reads on topics like the wall and Russian influence.
For each chapter, Lozada provides a narrative where he highlights and discusses the books he read on a specific topic. He often compares and contrasts the books he read. At times, it feels like he puts the books in conversation, a strength of the book. He also evaluates them so you get a sense which books may be worth reading and which you can avoid.
One reason I wanted to read this book is my self-imposed moratorium on politics/social issues/activist material and texts. Prior to 2016, I would often read in those areas. 2016 happened, and I decided I needed a serious break. Thus I missed reading some of the books Lozada discusses. I do not regret that. However, this book has served as a bit of a primer on what was being written before and during the Trump era. Some issues discussed I do recall from other media and reviews. As I said, as a librarian I cannot fully tune out. Still, this book helped me fill some gaps in my knowledge, and it reminded me also of things I had seen and heard in the media. For me, this was a useful reading.
Overall, the book feels a bit like a time capsule looking at the books and ideas those books presented related to Trump and his time. Like those books, chapters in this book vary in how interesting or not they may be. Every chapter ends with a bibliography of books discussed in case you want to find any of them to read. The author ends the book with an epilogue suggesting twelve books that he says helped him make sense of those times.
The book can be of interest to readers in history and political science. For librarians wanting an overview of the books of the time, whether for learning or collection development, it may be of interest too. I recommend it for academic libraries, especially those with strong political science programs. Larger public libraries may consider it; for small libraries this may be optional depending on local interest.
In the end, I liked it. Most of it is interesting, but some parts are better than others. So for me not always consistent. Still glad to have read it, and I would still suggest it in reader's advisory.
3 out 5 stars.
Additional reading notes:
An irony:
"One of the ironies of our time is that a man who rarely reads, preferring the rage of cable news and Twitter for hours each day, has propelled an onslaught of book-length writing about his presidency" (2).
So, what kind of books came out of this era?
"Dissections of white working class. Manifestos of political resistance. Works on gender and identity. Histories and memoirs of race and protest. Surveys of populism, authoritarianism, and anger. Investigations of political extremism. Polemics on the future of left and right. Debates and proposals on immigration. Studies on the institution of the presidency and the fate of democracy. And, of course, plenty of books about Trump himself-- his values, his family, his businesses, and his White House" (2).
The man basically created a lot of writing and related jobs for authors, editors, fact checkers, etc. You got admit, he helped a good part of the book business stay employed.
What the author wishes to preserve:
"My own concern is not how we got here, but how we thought here. I'm not interested in identifying that one book from decades ago that supposedly saw it all coming. I focus on the books and debates of this moment-- from the heartland to the border, from the resistance on the left to the civil war on the right, from the battles over truth to the fears about democracy-- not out of some misplaced now-more-than-everism but to preserve a snapshot of how we grappled with the Trump era in real time. I want to remember what I thought about it, too" (5).
The book for me did bring back memories as well of what I thought at the time. For example, the whole fuss over JD Vance's book. I live on the edge of Appalachia. I am surrounded by natives of the region and plenty of scholars who study the region. They do not look on Vance kindly to put it mildly, and they will all be happy to suggest better and more authentic books about Appalachia and written by actual Appalachians. I remember the college and other colleges nearby doing talks, workshops, teach-ins to counter Vance's privileged narrative. And I do remember our library ordering some more books of regional interest. This is just one example.
There were plenty of other topics and issues to consider at the time. It could get overwhelming at times, and that led to my reading and materials moratorium. The moratorium was never perfect, but helped me maintain my mental health and peace of mind. And before any weaponized activist dares to whine "how dare you tune out?" or similar, I'll say that me burned out, angry, and headed for a stress breakdown would not have served anyone. Self care, for me at least, is essential. You can't help others if you don't care for yourself.
Yes, it is racism, but it is also serious selfishness:
"White working-class men, worried that specific government programs help immigrants or gang members or welfare recipients, decide they'd rather forgo benefits themselves than share them with so many undesirables" (20).
In Spanish, dad used to call that "el perro de Jalisco que ni come ni deja comer (Translation: "they are like Jalisco's dog that neither eats nor let's anyone else eat." I have no idea why the dog had to be from Jalisco.). The context of the quote above is the author discussing Jonathan Metzl's book Dying in Whiteness. I can attest to that racist and selfish attitude of so many Americans; I've lived in the U.S. for what at times feels like way too long. The more I see that selfishness the less regard I have for gringos.
On the genre of resistance writing:
"There is optimism, determination, insight and even beauty in the resistance writings. Just as often, there is exclusion, self-righteousness, and opportunism-- responses that can limit the power and appeal of a political project in search of allies to counter a dangerous and reckless opponent. The resistance literature looks inward, its impassioned calls for solidarity aimed at those already inclined to agree" (36).
That is another reason I cut back on reading and consuming media of politics/social issues/activist stuff. After a while I got tired of the preaching to the choir. The works in the resistance genre did not seem interested in reaching beyond their in-group.
The three varieties of conservatives in the Trump era:
"First, there are the sycophants, who through a lack of options, imagination, or shame embraced the new order and relentlessly justified that decision. Next are the Never Trump conservatives, those who declared their opposition to Trump right away and have held fast to a vision of conservatism that they hope endures no matter its dwindling power and adherents. Then there are the pro-Trump conservative intellectuals, those seeking to retrofit an ideological framework onto the whims of a man whose positions show few organizing principles beyond self-interest and self-regard" (54).
Hell will freeze over before this happens:
"Nonetheless, he contends that Trumpism will someday seem a temporary aberration, as long as Republicans can--deep breath here-- purge the conspiracy theorists, recruit ethnically diverse candidates, impose strict ethics rules for Congress, kill off crony capitalism, respect the Constitution, reduce the size of government, and uphold the rule of law. Oh, and stop hating" (166).
As the kids might say: LMAO. Quote context is the author discussing Rick Wilson's book Everything Trump Touches Dies. Apparently Rick Wilson really is a funny guy. Again, LMAO.
How immigration is often defined in the United States. This quote really stayed with me, and it makes perfect sense when you think about it:
"Immigration fights are often reduced to a cost-benefit calculation, as if the worth of human beings were a matter of weighing the contributions they are likely to make against the expenditures they might cause-- with those ending on the plus side becoming the lucky winners who gain entry" (89).
If you wonder how Trump gets away with lying, here are his 5 steps of lying:
"First, 'stake a claim,' meaning own a political issue that others prefer not to touch. Second, 'advance and deny'-- that is, put the lie out there without claiming responsibility for it (This is Trump's someone should look into it phase.) Third, 'create suspense' by promising evidence that never materializes. Fourth, 'discredit the opponent' by attacking the character and motives of anyone challenging the lie, thus rendering the matter controversial even when the truth is anything but. And fifth, claim a win, no matter what" (106).
By the way, a lot of Party of Stupid adherents use this method, and the press and media, instead of doing their fucking jobs of calling out the bullshit, go right along with it.
There is more to the "death-of-democracy" idea than just Trump, and those writing about it need to do better:
"Trump may be the muse of the death-of-democracy bookshelf, but it is not a distinction he carries alone. Degraded norms and disenfranchised voters, Chinese ambition and Russian revanchism, unprincipled political parties and unequal administration of justice-- these are among the many maladies of democracy in our age. The scholars and analysts writing such books are, so far, better at diagnosing ailments than proposing treatments. It is almost as if, daunted by the scale of the problem, they have downsized their designs, as though our democracy is now so weakened that even mild medicine might prove too taxing" (218).
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