"What's wrong with our politicians
these days," one hears often, "is that they have no convictions."
This familiar complaint gets at a real problem. So many
politicians are unprincipled, in the sense that what drives them is exclusively
their own short-term interest. They will say anything to get
elected, no matter how outrageous, or how little they believe it themselves. We
can and should detest this.
We should not, however, let our justified
indignation mislead us into thinking that we simply want politicians who are
"principled." Why not? It's easy to think of people who
are sincere and "principled" in a sense, but who hold utterly wacky
views, and refuse to subject these views to examination and evidence. Such
types might in fact be more dangerous than their unprincipled
counterparts.
"After all, it is putting a very high
price on one's conjectures to have a man roasted alive because of them." This
line from Montaigne should not be forgotten. Nor should these ironic
words from C.G. Jung: "Even the holy Christian church, which is the
incarnation of divine love, burnt more than a hundred thousand of her own
children alive." There is little or nothing admirable about the
mere fact of having convictions. The problem with Anders Breivik is not
that he has no convictions. It is not that he is unprincipled or
insincere. Nor is it that he is insane, in the clinical sense (if there
is such a thing). That's an extreme example, but it illustrates the point
well.
Nietzsche speaks to the issue: “This is our
conviction: we confess it before all the world, we live and die for it. Respect
for all who have convictions! I have heard that sort of thing even out of
the mouths of anti-Semites. On the contrary, gentlemen! An
anti-Semite certainly is not any more decent because he lies as a matter of
principle." One might take Nietzsche's point to be that content is
more important than sincerity. Someone who does something good, whether
on principle or out of expediency, is preferable to someone who does something
wicked but on principle. Sincerity, if it is a virtue at all, is not the
highest virtue. Insincerity, though almost certainly a vice, is yet not
the worst vice.
Nietzsche’s emphasis, however, is a little
different. He seems to think that one can be fully sincere, fully
convinced or “convicted” (as some like to say), and yet fundamentally
dishonest. For Nietzsche, honesty is not really a function of subjective
sincerity. It has to do, rather, with one’s willingness to resist not
only deceiving, but also being deceived. Positively, it requires
one to continually ask hard questions and to subject one’s answer to those
questions (and indeed, one’s formulation of the questions themselves) to the
most probing tests. No matter how sincere the anti-Semite is in holding
his anti-Semitism, he is guilty of a fundamental kind of dishonesty, because he
is lazy with himself. He is willing to deceive and to be deceived. He
holds anti-Semitism out of conviction, but not out of intellectual
honesty.
What's the alternative? Something
like this: views based on an examination of things which proceeds according to
what Nietzsche calls the “intellectual conscience.” (See the second
aphorism of the Gay Science.)
Nietzsche combines an attack on the “psychology of conviction” with a
strong affirmation of the intellectual conscience and its attendant virtue,
honesty or probity (Redlichkeit) That alone prevents him, I
think, from approving of politicians who are simply unprincipled. It also
enables him to distinguish between the ersatz honesty of subjective sincerity
and the genuine article.
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