On an entirely typical day in Boston, an entirely typical thing happened
to me - typically, while driving on a Boston street.
I was driving in the left-turn lane of a major intersection when the
left turn arrow turned from green to yellow. I slowed and stopped as the
arrow turned red, but not before checking my rear view mirror for the
ubiquitous Boston tailgater. He was there, and, as I stopped carefully
and gradually, making sure he didn't rear-end me, I could see him, in
my mirror, waving his arms and raving in rage.
Now, in making my gradual stop, I had slid halfway across the pedestrian
walkway. And there, I was promptly cursed out by a macrame-and-granola
socialist from Cambridge on his bicycle for intruding on his rightful
space.
This encounter, I repeat, is entirely typical of Boston - and of Massachusetts
as a whole, a state and a city where I've lived for nearly 10 years. In
this, possibly the most conspicuously liberal state and city in the country,
here, in caring-and-sharing Massachusetts, socially concerned Boston,
day-to-day rudeness reaches over-the-top proportions, especially on the
roads. It is, take my word for it, much worse than New York City (I've
lived there, too). And I think I know why.
It's because liberals come from here. It's because of history. It's because
we've got a corrupt single-party fiefdom in power, and everyone knows
it. And the roads serve to remind everyone, every day, of the reality
of that single-party power: The fix is in.
Look at the roads, first, as kind of an objective correlative of the
exercise of power. They're terrible - badly marked, badly built, bumpy,
torn to pieces, with lane changes that don't make sense, dangerous merges
and intersections, and outdated traffic management devices (like traffic
circles). Plus, they're narrow, old, and inadequate. And there's no place
to park.
The Big Dig itself, endlessly over deadline and over budget, memorializes
the political pull of Thomas P. (Tip) O'Neill. But Tip wasn't alone. Every
new road project has its loopy exit ramps, monuments to the backroom grift
of some pol who had cut himself into an interest nearby. And road projects
themselves memorialize the century-old Massachusetts notion that government
is supposed to "create jobs" - usually for politically interested
unions.
When the locals drive on those roads, they display complete contempt
for them, and for the law, and for each other. They know every senseless
turn and twist of those symbolic roads, and they deal with them with what
one friend of mine calls "senseless, mindless aggression." Visitors
from civilized states like North Carolina or Minnesota simply can't believe
it.
Now for history. About a century and a half ago, the Irish started to
immigrate to America, conspicuously, to Boston and New York. (That they
stayed there, as opposed to moving to more prosperous territory like the
Swedes and the Germans, makes another story altogether.) From the beginning,
the Brahmins on Beacon Hill held the Irish in contempt. The "No Irish
Need Apply" sign has passed into legend, along with the exploits
of crooks like Mayor Michael Curley, as the Irish pursued their inevitable,
demographic takeover over the Massachusetts political arena.
In that takeover, the Irish practiced the politics they already knew
best: as a rude, backstabbing tribal brawl. But a funny thing happens
to people who take over power. They take on the attitudes of the people
they defeat. ("Meet the new boss - the same as the old boss,"
as Peter Townshend wrote.) So the Irish tribe has taken over political
power, and taken on, at the same time, the old Brahmin disdain. There
aren't very many real Brahmins left, particularly not in politics. Instead,
we have arriviste Brahmins, like the Clintons and the Kennedys. In Boston,
the real Brahmins run the mutual funds -- about the only things in town
that still work.
The contempt continues, and I see it as the basis of contemporary liberalism.
After all, what is a liberal? Someone who thinks himself better than other
people, and entitled to tell others what to do while taking care of them
- a classic Brahmin attitude. It started with the British in Colonial
times. (And, lest you think I'm being unduly harsh on the Irish, the British
confronted the same sort of hair-trigger obstinacy among colonials that
government officials find in the populace today.) It devolved to the Cabots
and the Lodges and rest of the Beacon Hill bunch. Paradoxically, those
in paternalistic power positions get their votes from precisely those
people they snub while they hand out money to them. On the other side,
the recipients of government largesse continue to take it, but they despise
the people who hand it out.
This double-sided disrespect shows most clearly in public institutions
- like the awful Boston roads and the savage behavior of the people using
them.
On the national stage, various institutions occupy the positions of Boston's
maddening streets: Social Security, health care, the armed forces, the
IRS, Congress, the courts, the Presidency. Our citizens increasingly confront
those national institutions with the egotistical rudeness of a Boston
driver. Why shouldn't they? Because it's wrong? You can't tell people
who feel powerless that it's wrong to act angry. You can't tell people
who believe that the fix is in that "They all do it" isn't a
valid or mature political philosophy.
As George Higgins wrote in "Style vs. Substance," a book that
examined the career of Boston Mayor Kevin White, "You can't deal
with people like that."
But you sure can create them. That's the Massachusetts model: rule for
the unruly.
Lawrence Henry is a senior writer for Enter Stage Right.