Up from What?
19 January 2007
–- by Mike Murray
It is popular these days — perhaps it always has been — for people in the public eye to claim for themselves credentials that they do not possess. They know that it is a badge of honor to have “overcome.” They know that people are perceived as special if they have endured hardship, if they have risen above disadvantage.
And so many seek acclaim by implying (or by stating outright) that they have “struggled.” There is no doubt that some have. But it is just as certain that a great many have not.
Among the pretenders are those who proffer naked lies. Whoppers. They assume that the sheer audacity of their fabrications will render them credible. It is a sad truth that many folks are vulnerable to a “big lie” in a way that they are not to a little fib.
Think about the occasional imposters who have marched (often wearing uniforms bedecked with ribbons) alongside the honorable in your town’s parades on patriotic holidays — only to be exposed later as phonies. Many of the fakers never served at all, much less with distinction.
They offered themselves up as heroes, but they were nothing but frauds. They disgraced themselves and they insulted those who did serve honorably.
Politicians are often guilty of a lesser form of puffed-up patriotism. Much like resume-padders seeking to impress potential employers, they simply stretch the truth. Such creatures typically have their flaks refer to them in campaign literature as “decorated veteran[s].”
That term can mean almost anything. Every soldier and sailor earns a National Defense ribbon the day he or she begins service. Some later receive commendations for duty assignments (regardless of what was done during them). Others pick up hardware for group accomplishments (unit citations) that indicate little about any one individual’s performance.
Still others earn acknowledgement for good conduct and latrine cleanliness. Okay, I made that last one up. But you get the drift: virtually all veterans who achieved anything above a dishonorable discharge can claim “decorated” status. And the wording of citations that accompany medals are notoriously flowery and over-the-top complimentary. (They’re meant to boost morale; they’re meant to inspire.)
Those who improperly imply exceptional service are hard to spot. But here’s a clue: the greatest need to claim military accomplishment usually attends the lowest degree of valor. Real heroes don’t brag.
Still, those who actually served — and who received an honorable or general discharge — commit no direct fraud by exaggerating to small degrees. They are, after all, veterans. And they did earn decorations.
Other politicians insinuate a difficulty of upbringing that confers upon themselves a measure of respect from the electorate that they do not deserve. One such media darling has suggested that we consider it “audacious” that anyone would “hope.”
The implication is that he, himself, dared to hope. He’d like us to believe that it was by virtue of his own audacity that he “overcame.” And he wants us to further believe that we can overcome, too — if only we follow his inspiring lead.
Trouble is, the bulk of his life has been lived in considerable privilege. He was raised by parents who were highly educated and who provided him with opportunities that most of us only dreamed of. He dwelled in wonderfully appointed homes; he attended excellent schools (prep, college, and graduate).
The only thing “audacious” about this guy is his expectation that the American public should perceive his life as one of exceptional personal accomplishment — accomplishment achieved against tough odds.
Then there are the politicians who, at the very least, refrain from claiming personal disadvantage. But that doesn’t keep them from offering themselves up as the last best hope of the common man. They understand the plight of the desperate in ways that other pols can’t, you see. They present themselves as uniquely qualified to address the problems of those who are struggling to get by.
They hope that no one will notice that there is nothing in their backgrounds or lifestyles that hints at a capacity to understand — much less a willingness to solve — the problems of the disadvantaged. Not only were they born privileged, a few of them even managed to “marry up.”
They own mansions (several, in some cases). They travel by limousine and private jet. When they exercise, they pedal around on bicycles whose price tags exceed the annual rental and mortgage fees of their poorest constituents’ humble homes.
They donate less to charity (as a percentage of their obscenely large discretionary incomes), than do poor folk! But trust them: no one knows your problems like they do. No one cares about you as much as they do. No one, but no one, is as qualified as they to help you overcome.
For another look at hypocrisy, consider the rock star who endears himself to the media by expressing deep concern for the world’s downtrodden. He trots the globe, lecturing government leader after government leader about the immorality involved in letting the suffering continue.
He prods presidents and prime ministers to open up the public purses of their well-off nations to help the less fortunate. He primps, he poses with celebrities. He accepts accolades.
Too bad he fails to practice what he preaches. Oh, he “talks the talk,” all right. But he fails to “walk the walk.”
The fact is that the wealth that governments have available to redistribute — for purposes domestic and foreign — is accumulated by way of levies imposed on its citizenry. Taxes. In order to help the needy nations for whom our musical hero professes advocacy, then, it is necessary that there be sufficient public funds from which to draw.
But get this: our lyrical lad fled his (supposedly) beloved, native sod when a sweetheart arrangement that exempted much of his own income from taxation was abolished. It is apparent that he’s okay with some people’s tax dollars being spent on the needy, just not his own. His skedaddle to a greener financial pasture hasn’t kept the media from singing his praises, however.
Speaking of the media, there are those among them who want in on the action. For them, proving their worthiness to readers, viewers, and listeners involves persuading them that they share a common bond, a common struggle. They want you to know that they, too, have overcome.
In their efforts to ingratiate themselves to their audiences, they conceal lives of advantage. In the case of one such on-air personality, the employment of a common-sounding surname does much to project a “regular guy” image. (It just wouldn’t do for viewers to think of him by his other moniker — the one that reveals his upper-class pedigree.)
And then there is the award-winning journalist. The one who has learned how to extract for herself sweet cream from the curdled dairy of others’ woes. The one whose opinions lean in a culturally “correct” direction. The one who has a deep, direct political tie. (What? You thought the world of journalism was an objective meritocracy?)
She conveys disadvantage by way of her lack of a youthful silver spoon. No, she didn’t grow up in a slum. But (get your Kleenex ready), her father wasn’t professionally employed! Horrors!
Her dad was not an alcoholic. He didn’t beat his wife. He didn’t abuse drugs or his kids. But sniff, sniff, he didn’t go to college! He never climbed to the highest rung on Maslow’s “hierarchy of needs” ladder: self-actualization. He didn’t get to do mentally stimulating things in his workplace.
Sure, he had a caring family. He had enough food to eat and a decent roof over his head. He was doubtless a good man who did well by his loved ones. He provided his children with opportunities that were never available to him. But he didn’t get to do all that he might have, all that he was capable of.
We are supposed to interpret this as being especially tragic, and somehow to the indirect credit of our intrepid reporter. She wants her audience to believe that she has overcome, in her way. (By extension, by proxy, perhaps.) So if you’ve struggled and survived, then you and she are alike. Because she too has triumphed over tribulation — if being born into a loving, though not affluent, family qualifies.
And, if having raised one child as a divorced, single parent — college degree firmly in hand — legitimizes the singing of “nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen,” it’s news to the legions who have had much tougher rows to hoe.
There never is a shortage of public figures angling for attention. It only gets worse during election cycles (cycles that just keep getting longer).
But it seems that we presently are in an especially appalling period of exploitation. There is no end of opportunists who suddenly have morphed into the second coming of Abe Lincoln. And all have ”log cabin” tales to tell.
They assure us that they “feel our pain” (when they’re not feeling something else).
They promise that they’re working overtime to ease the plight of the underclass (even as they employ the finest accountants and tax attorneys to protect their own wealth).
They regale us with stories of having been “to hell and back,” (just like World War II hero Audie Murphy).
They make solemn “contracts” with America (when they’re not making sleazy deals with contractors).
They hope, audaciously (when they aren’t “experimenting” with drugs: lab coats, clip boards, double-blind studies …very scientific.)
They proclaim a desire to lift all of America, just as they pretend to have lifted themselves up. They hope you won’t wonder: up from what?
Copyright © 2007 Michael F. Murray All rights reserved.
