The social media site I like to call the “Book of Face” helps me learn more about human behavior, and it scares me sometimes.
In the age of social media and 24/7 news cycles, constructive dialogue is rare. An insidious tactic on Facebook from all sections of the political spectrum is “whataboutism,” a simple rhetorical maneuver that ends any attempt at meaningful discussion. When someone you’re communicating with starts their following sentence, “Yeah, but what about…?” you know the discussion is over.
“Whataboutism” is a common rhetorical tactic that involves responding to an accusation or criticism by deflecting it with a counter-accusation, often related to a different issue. It’s a way of avoiding the original point, oftentimes because the original point is contrary to what we feel and believe.
On St. Patrick’s Recovery Day, I reposted an article on Facebook titled “Minnesota State Sen. Eichorn arrested on suspicion of soliciting a minor.” The post contained a brief statement of facts about Eichorn’s arrest by Bloomington police. It said nothing about the Senator’s party affiliation, marital status, family size, religious proclivity, or other peculiar peccadilloes.
My statement on the post was straightforward. “How do these people keep getting elected? Who the F is in charge of these parties?”
I may be looking back with rose-colored glasses, but I always believed the party poobahs, the top dogs with the most to lose, vetted all candidates running under their party umbrella. Oxford Dictionary defines vetting as “investigate(ing) (someone) thoroughly, especially in order to ensure that they are suitable for a job.” Maybe I’m wrong, but no one, or the wrong one, seems to be in charge of vetting and rejecting the potential bad guys throughout our political system.
As letters to the editor are my favorite part of newspapers, the comments on social media posts entertain me. Especially on something I’ve posted, my fragile ego delights in reading feedback from people, especially those I know in the real world. So it feels good, even if I’m called a “libtard” by some Mensa-like critic who knows more about everything than I do.
Whataboutism is everywhere. Post something about a too-horny or hypocritical politician, and you can be sure one of the first comments will be, “WHAT ABOUT this…”
When confronted with the truth, the individual employing this tactic doesn’t address the core issue. Instead, they point a finger at someone else’s transgressions.
While this little rhetorical trick might seem clever, whataboutism has a devastating impact on dialogue. It’s not just a nuisance, it’s a serious problem. Conversations transform into a chaotic exchange of grievances, shifting the focus from problem-solving to a perpetual cycle of blame. We need to change this.
Sadly, when every critique is met with a counter-accusation, it creates a climate where constructive criticism is silenced. Folks hesitate to express their views, fearing they’ll be met with a barrage of irrelevant and nasty counterpoints.
The term “whataboutism” gained specific prominence during the Cold War, particularly in discussions of Soviet propaganda. However, the underlying rhetorical tactic is deeply rooted in human behavior.
Humans identify strongly with their belief in heroes, whether political, sports, or religious. They have a natural tendency to take it personally when their heroes are criticized, lashing out with whataboutism to avoid the discomfort they’re feeling.
We must remember that addressing one problem does not negate the importance of addressing others. True progress requires honesty, accountability, and a genuine desire to find common ground.
Only later did I find out that Justin David Eichorn, born in 1984, was first elected as a Republican to the Minnesota Senate in 2016, his second try for a legislative seat. According to his LinkedIn profile, he is an Independent Real Estate Professional in Grand Rapids. He is married with four children.
To their credit, Republican leaders in the Senate immediately condemned Eichorn and demanded his resignation or expulsion from the Senate. The morning of March 20th, he submitted his resignation letter to Governor Walz, tipping the evenly split body to a one-member DFL majority.
On the day of his arrest, Eichorn and four Republican colleagues came together to submit legislation designating “Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS)” as an officially recognized mental illness in Minnesota. None of the five senators have a medical or mental health background or experience.
TDS is a term used to characterize critics of Donald Trump. They see even mild opposition or prayerful petitions as going beyond normal political disagreement. Trump supporters primarily use the term to dismiss or discredit criticism of him.
Well, What About…?
