Accountability and Its Discontents
America, We Have a Problem
On January 6th, 2021, as he headed into the Capitol building to debate the certification of the 2020 Electoral College vote, Senator Josh Hawley of Missouri, a rising star in the Republican party with evident presidential aspirations, pumped his fist in support of the barricaded pro-Trump crowd that had gathered in mistaken belief that the election had been “stolen.” A short time later, the crowd, incited to action by the President and visibly encouraged by Hawley, would breach the barricades, invade the Capitol, kill a police officer, attempt to smash their way into the House chamber where Congress had gathered, loot Congressional offices, damage Federal property, and parade the Confederate flag through the halls. Circumstantial evidence suggests that some in the crowd were intent on killing VP Mike Pence and members of Congress.
Despite the events of the day, despite the fact that the photo of Hawley was already circulating online and in news reports, he insisted on using the joint session of Congress to amplify many of the President’s lies about the election that had fed the crowd’s rage. In the hours and days that have followed, on the Senate floor, on Twitter, and in a letter to his Republican colleagues, Hawley has expressed no acknowledgement of, or remorse for, the role he played in giving fuel and legitimacy to the insurrection. When his book contract with Simon & Schuster was cancelled mid-week, he had a Trump-esque hyperbolic Twitter meltdown, calling it, ridiculously, an “Orwellian” attack on his First Amendment rights.
Hawley’s outsized reaction could be seen as evidence that he (a former clerk for Chief Justice John Roberts) doesn’t understand the First Amendment and has never read Orwell. More likely, it is a willful misreading of both, reflecting a cynicism that has no bounds — and maybe something more. It is worth noting that Simon & Schuster’s action, so far, has been the only tangible consequence of the senator’s recklessness. More consequences may be forthcoming; Hawley has lost credibility with some of his former supporters, and in the end he may be forced to resign his seat. But for now, his highly emotional response over the loss of a book contract is that of a man who takes offense at the notion that he should face any consequences at all.
It is no surprise that he would react this way. For men like Hawley and the current President, personal accountability is scarcely something to worry about. They are impervious to shame and never lack for apologists and colleagues who will ascribe benevolent motives and rationalize their worst actions and words. All of our institutions are tilted in their favor. It takes extraordinary events, like those of the past week, to crack through the chitinous shell of plausible deniability and collegial sympathy that surrounds them. The rest of the time, they skate along with breezy confidence, secure in the fact that our memories are short, our world is noisy, and our will to impose consequences is weak.
People like Hawley and Trump are everywhere. They’re the moguls and celebrities who use their positions of authority to coerce sexual favors and destroy other people’s careers while being celebrated by their industries. They’re the corporate leaders who have “failed up,” gaining promotions by touting their experience even when that experience has left a string of poor results and failed projects in its wake. They’re the police officers who shoot Black citizens due to poor judgment and racist assumptions and not only face no charges, but in most cases continue to work as police officers. They’re the landlords who let conditions in their properties deteriorate, yet find the laws and the courts on their side when they evict renters who hold back their rent.
More often than we would like to admit, they are us. In the United States, you could say a lack of accountability — for failing to do one’s job with basic competence, for failing to exercise common sense judgment, for failing to lead with wisdom, for failing to act like a decent human— is endemic.
If you listen to Hawley, the last sentence I wrote could not be further from the truth. In his Twitter tantrum, he was quick to point the finger at the “woke mob” for the end of his book deal. (As Lyz Lenz noted in a recent Substack post, the “‘woke mob’ … is apparently the only kind of mob he actually condemns.”) There’s a perception among a significant and increasing number of public figures, conservatives and liberals alike, that we are in the midst of a crisis, not of a lack of accountability, but of an overzealous “cancel culture.” But from what I have seen, what’s been called “cancel culture” is a simple insistence that there should be consequences for doing harm. Those who do harm to others through careless words and thoughtless actions are so accustomed to getting away with it that being challenged feels like an assault.
No one likes being called to account. Last year, in a meeting with several of my colleagues, I lost my temper while disagreeing vehemently with someone. I knew my reaction was unreasonable, so to cool off, I walked out of the room. After a few minutes, I went back in and apologized, my colleagues all said some variation of “no worries,” and the meeting went on. I more or less forgot about it, but the moment showed up months later in my annual performance review, in the 360 feedback from some people who had been in that meeting. My first reaction was to get defensive and deflect. I’d admitted in the moment that there was no excuse for losing my temper; why was it being thrown back in my face now? Was I going to be tarred and feathered for this one incident? But on further reflection, I had to admit that my ungoverned reaction in that meeting, at that moment, had hurt the group. My peers and my boss were holding me accountable for that, with the consequence was that my rating (and therefore my potential salary increase) was not as high as it could have been. It was right that they did so.
Not all lapses are harmful, and not all harms are equal. There is a difference between a punitive culture — the kind of culture that throws Black men in jail for years for simple possession of narcotics in the name of “personal responsibility” — and a culture of accountability. In theory, we all live under the rule of law, and justice is blind. In reality, some people, generally those with melanated skin or empty bank accounts, live under the rule of laws of dubious morality and efficacy and a justice system where the consequence is disproportionate to the offense. Others coast through their lives with the occasional slap on the wrist and scream “woke mob” if an honor to which they feel entitled is denied them.
Josh Hawley is a princeling of privilege with an outsized platform whose words and actions encouraged a murderous and seditious real-life mob. It’s good that Simon & Schuster canceled him. His Senate career, like Donald Trump’s presidency, also should be canceled. If he does not resign, he should be expelled.
As a society and as a political body, we are troubled and in many ways broken. Getting better begins with real accountability, right now.