Post-truth is pre-fascism.

Timothy Snyder has given us another gift. I desperately hope it’s alluded to and entered into the Congressional record in the days to come. There are so many gems of eloquence which shed and extend light if we’ll let them. Consider this:

“They allowed his electoral fiction to flourish. They had different reasons for doing so.” In his context, Snyder is referring to Republicans in Congress. In my context, that’s Governor Bill Lee, Senators Blackburn and Hagerty, and a large number (thousands?) of my fellow Tennesseans who consume, share, or profit from the perpetuation of disinformation. They also have different reasons for doing so. In communities of moral adulthood, are we responsible for the fictions we let others voice aloud in our presence unchallenged? I sure think so. We have difficult work to do with friends, family, and neighbors.

Snyder singles out Senators Cruz and Hagerty, but they aren’t alone. The principle they adhered to and have yet to uncouple from is this: “An elected institution that opposes elections is inviting its own overthrow.” I don’t see how any elected official who isn’t calling for their resignation or removal should be accorded the public trust again. They “voted for the lie that had forced them to flee their chambers.”

“Post-truth is pre-fascism,” Snyder explains. “When we give up on truth, we concede power to those with the wealth and charisma to create spectacle in its place.” If we don’t take on the everyday work of attempted truthfulness together with others, we allow ourselves to succumb to the steady loss of any “distinction between what feels true and what actually is true.” And here’s the biggie: “Post-truth wears away the rule of law and invites a regime of myth.” In time, many of the people among whom we each hope to share a common life of meaning are no longer interested or willing to acknowledge what Hannah Arendt refers to as “the fabric of factuality.” In my context, Governor Bill Lee has expressed a willingness to work with President Biden as if he’s doing the man some kind of favor. It’s a strange and abusive flex from a man who’s told journalists he doesn’t feel compelled to witness any of the executions he’s approved. It’s as if his oath of office and his relationship to the people of Tennessee is a platform for servicing other ambitions. Keeping faith with the fabric of factuality is an exercise some faiths won’t abide.

Just read the thing. But right quick, don’t miss what Snyder refers to as “the big lie.” It’s still alive and signalling among us and remains a clear and present danger to the possibility of America. “To tell the big lie is to be owned by it,” Snyder notes. My hope is that millions of Americas, having told and and shared and incentivized and, in some cases, momentarily profited from the big lie, will begin to acknowledge the harm doing so has done to themselves and others and find healthier ways of existing in the world. Honest relationships are the currency of civilization. And they are often as easily accessed as a phone call. We live in hope.