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Oblivious to norms, Trump has fundamentally weakened the presidency and the United States

The first two weeks of 2021 feel like they have been fifty-two.

In those opening days, the world bore witness to an attack on the seat of American democracy — an attack without parallel, in times of peace or conflict, since the War of 1812.

A crazed mob of citizens was instigated, cajoled and sanctioned by the president. They stormed the U.S. Capitol, threatening harm to lawmakers and demanding a stop to that sacred rite of America’s democracy: a peaceful transition of power.

Then this week, we bore witness to another first: an American president being impeached for a second time; a moment weighty with significance and symbolism if nothing else. No Mount Rushmore for you, Donald.

In three days, another first. President-elect Biden will be sworn in without crowds, without fanfare and most notably, without his predecessor. And while few expected better of the spoiled brat who currently occupies 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, it will nonetheless do irreparable harm to the harmony and vitality of American democracy.

In just three weeks, we have learned so much about America and her contradictions. We have observed the resilience of her democratic institutions even as we’ve witnessed the inadequacy of their defences. We’ve enjoyed rare glimpses of co-operation in the wake of the insurrection, only to see a return to the partisan back-and-forth of impeachment. And perhaps most striking of all, we saw the state of Georgia elect its first ever Black and Jewish senators — a result certified on the same day that Confederate flags stained the halls of the very Capitol building where those two senators will work. “Two Americas” indeed.

Amidst all the intensity of the high drama and nonsense, it is easy to see things in isolation. But that is, I think, a mistake. It is more important to understand how these things are connected and what got us to this place.

Over four years, Donald Trump, his sycophants and enablers have eroded the norms by which American democracy remains civil, productive and peaceful.

At their most basic, norms are like table manners; the WD-40 of interactions. Norms are unspoken traditions that facilitate the processes of healthy civil society. They tell us how we can expect others to behave toward us and how we are expected to behave toward them.

In North America, we introduce ourselves to new neighbours to reinforce the notion that our neighbourhood is a safe community where we can depend on one another. We hold doors for strangers as a way to peacefully and considerately share public space.

In politics and in government, norms become something more: a means to reinforce productive and democratic behaviour without impeding the authority of leaders. In the United States particularly, they are also a crucial way to insulate the integrity and long-term legitimacy of the presidency from partisanship. Even before he debased the presidential debate stage and undermined the 2020 election, Trump has wilfully attacked these standards.

To be more precise, Trump turned that all upside down.

The Washington Post has identified at least 20 significant norms that Trump has contravened, from hiding his tax returns to abusing his pardon power.

At their most basic, norms are like table manners; the WD-40 of interactions. Norms are unspoken traditions that facilitate the processes of healthy civil society. They tell us how we can expect others to behave toward us and how we are expected to behave toward them.

In North America, we introduce ourselves to new neighbours to reinforce the notion that our neighbourhood is a safe community where we can depend on one another. We hold doors for strangers as a way to peacefully and considerately share public space.

In politics and in government, norms become something more: a means to reinforce productive and democratic behaviour without impeding the authority of leaders. In the United States particularly, they are also a crucial way to insulate the integrity and long-term legitimacy of the presidency from partisanship. Even before he debased the presidential debate stage and undermined the 2020 election, Trump has wilfully attacked these standards.

To be more precise, Trump turned that all upside down.

The Washington Post has identified at least 20 significant norms that Trump has contravened, from hiding his tax returns to abusing his pardon power.

By criticizing the judiciary, contradicting American intelligence services and using the White House and other symbols of the presidency as campaign props, Trump has asserted his own importance over that of the office he holds. It’s no wonder his followers believe his continued status as “Mr. President” is more important than the democratic legitimacy of the office itself.

Understanding Joe Biden’s reverence for democratic traditions, I expect his term will be a master-class in attempting to revive the norms that Trump has debased. But norms are a fragile thing, and whoever follows Biden may not be so inclined to protect the presidency. Sadly, much like the “impervious” defences on Capitol Hill, the whole institution may prove to be far more fragile than it appears.

Accountability is crucial, but public shamings only make things worse

As the pandemic explodes into the new year, the roller-coaster of emotions we all are experiencing continues.

We have been afraid as we confronted an unknown virus, and we continue to be afraid. We have felt guilty as we wondered what more we could do to help friends, colleagues or neighbours get through these difficult times, and we continue to feel guilty. We have clung to hope that a vaccine will be our answer, and we cling to that hope still.

But these past weeks have been dominated by a singular and all-too-familiar emotional dynamic: Shame.

Long before we began our ongoing witch-hunt against any politician or public figure who has stepped foot outside the country during the pandemic, there were previous instances of public shaming over the course of COVID-19.

Recall the Toronto Sun cover (T.O.’s COVIDIOTS) shaming the summertime gathering of youths in Trinity Bellwoods. Or the case of a doctor in Nova Scotia who travelled over the border to Quebec to retrieve his daughter, and faced horrifically racist recriminations when he returned and inadvertently infected a patient.

Never mind the fact that the day in the park caused no discernable spike in cases, or the fact that the doctor was told by authorities to return to work in the first place — the public shaming came just the same.

The longer that all this wears on, the more tempting it becomes to resort to this crude form of social pressure. We are in a strict lockdown but the number of cases continues to rise. Therefore, many have concluded, people must be breaking the rules — and rulebreakers deserve to be named and shamed.

What’s more, we have new tools for that shaming. Where once we shamed people in the public square, in newspapers or on television, we now take to social media, where the cycle of recriminations has been turbocharged.

So we must ask ourselves: in a pandemic, is shame a useful form of public pressure? Some observers say yes — merely the possibility of a public shaming is enough to dissuade undesirable behaviour.

But if we are truly to allow ourselves to be guided by the science, and if the academic research is to be believed, the answer is a sturdy no. In study after study of pandemics or epidemics past — from obesity to fetal alcohol syndrome — researchers have found shaming tactics or techniques result in health outcomes that are WORSE.

As a gay man who survived the HIV/AIDS pandemic of the 1980s and 1990s, I am well-versed in these arguments and rationales. How long did it take us to learn that to stigmatize those with HIV only dissuades potential cases from getting tested and, if positive, from making responsible choices about their status? Shame serves to drive the virus further underground, and that makes it harder to monitor and treat.

But shaming carriers of contagious disease has a long history (going all the way back to Typhoid Mary), and the impulses behind it are not so easy to wrestle down with logic. It’s simple enough now to explain why shaming HIV-positive people is counterproductive, but with COVID-19, the epidemiology of the virus has been in a constant state of flux. The rules and recommendations protecting us against it are vague and necessarily iterative.

The bottom line is that it is easier to shame individuals for perceived lapses or shortcomings than it is to really grapple with this uncertainty, or to rise above it. We resort to shame because it is easier to point the finger than to offer a solution or extend a hand.

Ten months of trying to harass individual people into compliance has clearly failed. By now, we must understand that infection is not a moral failure, and that all individuals will make their own risk calculations under the guidelines and regulations set forward by governments.

Disagreements abound, but there is a better way. Expert epidemiologists say that condemnations should be reserved for broad categories of behaviour — mass indoor gatherings, say, or mid-winter tropical vacations, and not individuals who may transgress. In short, as we look ahead to the end of this wretched pandemic, we need to learn to hate the sin, and not the sinner.