Bravery, Redefined

It’s hard to be brave, so it only makes sense that Dahlia The Fierce would feel the need to redefine it down.

But it was Scalia, tag-teaming with Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who insisted that much as we might wish otherwise, “The fact is that running a democracy takes a certain amount of civic courage.” He went on to point out, rather presciently, that “the First Amendment does not protect you from criticism or even nasty phone calls when you exercise your political rights to legislate, or to take part in the legislative process.” He went on, more or less shouting that “you know, you can’t run a democracy this way, with everybody being afraid of having his political positions known!” And—no surprises—Ginsburg had his back throughout.

At the time, it was all very hypothetical, but in the years since we’ve heard these arguments, GOP groups have hidden their donor lists under this same theory of protecting themselves from public criticism, while doing immense damage to the institutions of democracy, and more recently to the institution of voting itself. The “civic courage” for which Scalia advocated that day is today apparent in the people who realize that political silence is not a marker of “politeness” but instead can be a hallmark of complicity. [Paragraph broken up for readability.]

It’s not that Dahlia manages to find virtue in Scalia when RBG approves, because Ginsburg is a saint, you know, tolerating even Scalia. And it’s not that her natural inclination to point at the evil side as the evil side should come as a surprise, because they are the evil side and so they deserve it.

And she’s not wrong, that there’s no bravery in marching with a few hundred of your buds with tiki torches or strapping on semi-automatic weapons to terrorize voters.

But where’s the bravery?

But take a moment, in the maelstrom of today, to gently thank someone you’ve watched become just a “little bit brave” over these past four years. You may not recognize it in yourselves, but you will surely see it in those around you. And as the person who has penned a dozen “_____ Is Not Going to Save Us,” articles—about the Bob Muellers, and Adam Schiffs and even the Justice Ginsburgs—know that today I see the chip guys all around. You are the chip guys you had hoped to see in the world. I hope you see it too.

Bingo. When the other side is the oppressor, yours is the oppressed, and so speaking out together with your millions of similarly passionate pals is somehow bravery, because the tens of thousands of bobble-headed supporters who similarly want to believe that they’re the victims, they’re the oppressed, are brave.

Scalia was right, that if you want to take a stand, take a stand. But there’s nothing brave about taking a stand that everyone you know, everyone you care about, approves of. As we say about free speech, nobody needs the protection of the First Amendment for speech everybody like. It’s the speech people depise that needs protection. And it’s the positions that won’t get you the swarm of support by your besties that requires some bravery. You know, the positions that might get you canceled, which Dahlia may not believe exists since she’s on Team Cancel.

Take, for example, Lithwick’s adoration of Judge Alex Kozinski, with whom she hung and praised, until someone else had the guts to out his conduct. Only then did Lithwick pile on with the rest of them, another Lemmings somewhere in the middle of the line.

Kozinski forced us all into this mess with him. And still, I am aware as I write this that I should have found my footing, that the women who came up after me, and who spoke up, are manifestly braver than I was. I am further aware that my failure to speak up over the course of my career is part of the reason why it was possible for the women who came after me to be treated as disrespectfully as they were.

Yes, the women who came forward when Koz was at peak popularity (because of his adoring fans like Dahlia) were brave. There’s nothing brave about being a follower. There’s nothing brave about joining the chorus. Brave people take risks. Lithwick, writing for Slate, doesn’t even risk a paper cut, since they haven’t had paper there since 1969.

Screaming to the woke on social media that “Trump is literally Hitler” only risks not getting a million “likes.” There’s nothing brave about it, and Dahlia can’t fabricate a new definition of bravery based on people who agree with her and have the overwhelming support of her tribe. Pretending to be the victim doesn’t make you the victim. You can’t be a lone voice in the wilderness when you’re surrounded by a few million people who applaud your every tear of pain with their thoughts and prayers.

Bravery still matters, and it won’t be despoiled by the insipid victims to make them feel better about themselves. There are brave people out there. Dahlia Lithwick isn’t worthy of carrying their bags.