They believe that their support of Trump is reasonable, and that it isn’t reasonable not to support him for two reasons (so to speak): 1) their media gives them “reasons” to support him; 2) their media gives them “reasons” to refuse to listen to anyone who disagrees.
And all of those “reasons” are unreasonable. The lowest bar for having a reasonable position is: you are open to persuasion on it, you’ve considered the best opposition arguments, and you hold all positions on the issue to the same standards of proof, civility, logic.
Trump supporters fail every single one of those standards. So, why don’t they notice that failure? There are several relevant factors. One is a misunderstanding about what it means to be reasonable (aka, the rational-irrational split). The second, and the point of this post, is that they’re inoculated against being reasonable about their support of Trump.
“Inoculation” is a metaphor that scholars of propaganda use for the strategy of getting people not to listen to non in-group arguments. [The in-group isn’t “the group in power” but “the group you’re in.”] If I am trying to vote for Chester, and I’m worried you might vote for Hubert, then I will—like exposing someone to cowpox so that their body rejects smallpox—try to train you to reject pro-Hubert arguments by misrepresenting them, nut-picking (equating Hubert with some unhinged or extreme critic of Chester), motivism (saying all critics of Chester are jealous, sad, or have bad motives), taking quotes out of context, or just plain lying about Hubert. If I’m successful, then, when confronted with strong arguments for Hubert and his policies, you’ll reject them without even listening.
I’ll give two examples. Trump supporters believe that the 2020 election was stolen, although the legal cases making that claim (including before Trump-appointed judges) have overwhelmingly lost, generally on the grounds that they have little to no merit or evidence. Trump supporters don’t know the outcome of these cases because their media doesn’t tell them. (Trump supporters open to a reasonable discussion about this can email me. They aren’t. They won’t.)
Second, your Trump supporting family and friends are probably completely supportive of anti-DEI policies, which they conflate with CRT. And the argument against CRT is an illogical argument by association. It runs like this: All concerns about inclusion are really CRT, and CRT can be associatively (not reasonably) related to some Marxists; therefore, if anyone indicates concerns about inclusion, they’re CRT, and, therefore, you shouldn’t listen to them—they’re Marxist.
Argument by association is unreasonable. The CRT argument has the same logic as: God is love; love is blind; Stevie Wonder is blind; therefore Stevie Wonder is God.
Or, more to the point, Nazis believed in the Great Replacement narrative; Tucker Carlson advocates the Great Replacement narrative; therefore, Tucker Carlson is a Nazi.
But Trump supporters only consider argument by association reasonable when it confirms what they believe. That isn’t reasonable. They might provide data that look like reasons, but their argument isn’t reasonable.
When inoculation works, and it often does, it means that you are trained to listen to people in terms of a binary—are they with me, or against me. If they give any sign of not being fully supportive of Chester, then they must support Hubert, and that makes them a squirrel-loving communist who probably kicks little dogs for fun. And that binary thinking goes to the very source—they only get information from sources that support Trump, so they don’t even know what the best opposition arguments are.
Trump media, pundits, and rhetors aren’t the only people to engage in inoculation. A lot of demagoguery does, all over the political and cultural spectrum.
Political parties and figures, advertisers, salespeople, even manipulative individuals engage in inoculation only because they know that they’re unlikely to persuade people if their audience gives a fair hearing to the various opposition positions and critics. Inoculation is not only unreasonable; it is a pragmatic admission that the entire case is unreasonable. If you have to lie to make your case, you have a bad case.
(Jose Luis Magana / Associated Press)
https://www.latimes.com/politics/story/2021-01-07/capitol-violence-dc-riots-how-to-explain-to-kids
I’ve spent a lot of time arguing with Stalinists (I was in Berkeley for many years), and no one so much reminds me of arguing with them as arguing with Trump supporters. Neither Stalinists nor Trump supporters could (or can) reasonably engage opposition arguments. In fact, like Stalinists, Trump supporters refuse to look at anything written by someone who doesn’t fanatically support Trump. Because, like Stalinists, they think that “being rational” means “being fanatically committed to our leader.” They ignore that people who actually have a rational/reasonable position can make an argument that responds to the best opposition arguments.
I’m happy to engage in a reasonable discussion with any Trump supporters who did read this far.
(That would be zero. If I’m wrong, please let me know.) So, this post is about how to think about how Trump supporters argue.
I grew up in a family of arguers, and it sometimes ended up in violence. But it didn’t always end there, and so I got interested in the relationship between argument and violence pretty early on.
For reasons too complicated to explain, I ended up taking rhetoric classes. In those days, the Berkeley Department of Rhetoric was (I now understand) very oriented toward neo-Ciceronian understandings of rhetoric—that is, what might be called responsible agonism. It’s rhetoric as the area (not discipline) of responsibly engaging the best opposition arguments.
And so, since I was in Berkeley, I spent a lot of time arguing with the four kinds of communists (who spent most of their time breaking up each other’s meetings), as well as Libertarians, Republicans, liberals (we can improve things through incremental changes), various kinds of environmentalists, constructivist and essentialist feminists, and everyone except Moonies (since they wouldn’t argue, or even admit they were Moonies).
I think I learned the most about argument by arguing with Stalinists. Maoists and Trotskyites didn’t even try to argue with me—once they found out I disagreed, they just said, “Come the revolution, motherfucker, you’re the first one up against the wall.” It’s weird how often I was told that.
What I think of as “Stalinists” didn’t call themselves that—maybe Leninists? I’ve forgotten the terminology—but they defended every single thing the USSR did. It could do no wrong. As it happens, for complicated reasons, I had visited the USSR in 1974 (or so, maybe 1973?), and I had no love for the USSR. It would take me another twenty years to find the terminology to describe what they were doing (demagoguery), but the short version is that if the USSR was accused of doing something wrong—if I said I’d actually seen something, or there was an documented event—they refused to think about it. Anything that might complicate their commitment to the USSR, they dismissed as anti-USSR propaganda.
They said it was, so to speak, fake news.
They were suckers. Anyone who refuses to consider evidence that they might be wrong is a sucker.[1]
Sometimes the Stalinists would argue with a bit, but they too would eventually say, “When the revolution comes, you’re the first up against the wall, motherfucker.” In other words, because they couldn’t defend their position rationally, they resorted to threatening me.
They couldn’t defend their position reasonably because it wasn’t a reasonable position. And that’s why they had to resort to threatening me.
That’s why so many Trump supporters threaten or harass anyone who disagrees with them.That’s why so many gun nuts threaten or harass anyone who disagrees with them.That’s why Trump supporters end up shouting at people over Thanksgiving dinner. Because they can’t argue any better than a Stalinist—because, in fact, they can’t argue in a way that responds reasonably to critics of their position. If you can’t respond reasonably to your best critics, you have a bad argument.
What Stalinists couldn’t do (and Trump supporters can’t do) is hold themselves, their in-group, or their in-group arguments to the same standards they held/hold anyone who disagreed with them. That’s what it means to have a rational argument—not that you have a calm tone, or that you have data, but that you hold yourself and your opposition(s) to the same standards of proof and logic as you hold yourself. The way I got Stalinists so mad was pointing out that they held themselves to lower standards than they held others’ arguments. And that’s why Trump supporters get so mad at me now. They’re mad that I’ve pointed out that even they think their argument will fall apart if they have to treat opposition arguments reasonably.
In other words, Trump supporters (like Stalinists) agree with me that they can’t defend their arguments reasonably. And that’s why they engage in ad hominem, motivism, whaddaboutism, and threats.
The difference is that Stalinists didn’t care if they were reasonable. Like Trump supporters, they were clear that they held their beliefs because those were the beliefs of their group—they believed what it was loyal to believe, and they refused to consider any data that might complicate their loyalty to Stalinism. Trump supporters similarly believe what it’s loyal to believe in order to support Trump, and they refuse to look at anything that might complicate their fanatical loyalty. But Trump supporters claim to follow Jesus.
Jesus said, “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.” Trump supporters rage when their position is misrepresented, when people make fun of them, when people cite bad data, when he is treated as they wanted HRC or do want Hunter Biden treated. They rage at “libruls” who, they say, live in a propaganda bubble.
So, do they treat others as they want to be treated?
Nope.
Were Trump or his supporters followers of Jesus, then they would never misrepresent others’ positions, lie, cherry-pick, refuse to engage the smartest opposition, or argue as they do.
Trump supporters reject Jesus because they worship someone who treats as others as he doesn’t want to be treated, and their worship of him means that they treat others as they don’t want to be treated.
There are two ways to make a Trump supporter incoherently, foaming-at-the-mouth, pound on the table mad: 1) ask them if their commitment to Trump is open to falsification—what evidence would cause them to reconsider their commitment? 2) ask them if they are willing to hold their out-group(s) to the same standards they hold Trump.
They get triggered because they’re very sensitive. While they have a position they can, in their minds, support with lots of data, even they know that their arguments are such fragile gossamer that they disappear if touched with the slightest breath of a reasonable opposition argument.
Here’s how Trump supporters can prove me wrong: they link to sites that support Trump and engage the opposition arguments as they want their arguments treated, arguments that hold themselves and others to the same standards of evidence, proof, and logic. Or they PM or email me to have a reasonable discussion.
Here’s how Trump supporters prove I’m right: they attack me personally, harass me, make an argument about “libruls,” or otherwise admit that it isn’t possible to support Trump and follow Jesus’ rule about treating others as they want to be treated.
Maybe they should think about that. Jesus didn’t mumble.
[1] That doesn’t mean we have to consider every piece of evidence that contradicts what we believe.
Image from here https://belldora.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/vivien-leigh-vii.jpg
As I said a long time ago, a lot of Trump supporters stopped trying to defend him through rational-critical argumentation fairly early on in his Administration. I’ve read defenses of him, ranging from your high school friend to scholars. It’s either fallacious zero-sum demagoguery–non-Trump supporters are SO bad that nothing Trump can do is something I will condemn– or, more commonly, charismatic leadership. A lot simply refuse to engage, and those who do try to engage in argumentation are kind of impressive in terms of how many fallacies they can fit into a few words.
Trump supporters (and not just Trump supporters) believe our political spectrum is a binary, and so believe “fairness” is saying that “both sides are just as bad.” So here I should say, “both sides” are not just as bad because there aren’t two sides. Politics isn’t a binary or continuum. More important, while there are people who can’t defend their position through rational-critical argumentation who have all sorts of affiliations, I haven’t run across a Trump supporter who can in a long time.[1] So, much of what I’m saying applies to people who aren’t Trump supporters but are irrationally committed to Paleo, Brittney, Obama, single-payer health care, Santana, hating Santana, and, well, everything.
And here I should explain why I use the term “argumentation” rather than argument. An argument is a claim. That you can make a claim and support it with data from a reliable source doesn’t mean that you’ve supported your claim rationally, nor that your commitment to that claim is rational.
But a lot of people think that a claim “supported” by a piece of evidence from a reputable source is a good argument. That the best-selling argument textbook endorses this view has made me ragey for years.
When you arguing with someone whose commitment isn’t capable of rational defense, and you point out that 1) they don’t believe their own major premise (explained below), 2) and/or their claim is contradicted by other sources, 3) and/or they’ve put forward a fallacious argument, or 4) and, the most important point, that the way they’re deliberating about politics is a way they would never make decisions in their own area of expertise, in my experience, people respond in one of three ways.
A fair number of people never get your point. It isn’t about whether they can find evidence to support their position; it’s about whether they’re willing to think about how they’re thinking. They just get confused when you talk about major premises and non-falsifiability. These people aren’t uneducated. My most recent failures to get someone to understand that their way of reasoning about Trump is a bad way to reason include an anesthesiologist and mechanical engineer.
Some people (in my experience, this is less common than it used to be) will say, now that you’ve shown their position is completely irrational, that everyone’s position is irrational. That’s just projection, and the kind of universalizing that comes from being in such a position of privilege that they’ve never had to listen to others. This response is deflection–instead of defending their inability to engage in rational argumentation, they just declare that no one engages in it.
It’s motivism. The problem for them, of course, is that there are lots of examples of people engaging in rational-critical discourse and thereby changing their minds about an issue. But they won’t look at those examples because being a Trump supporter means refusing to look at any disconfirming data. They’re in a vicious circle of irrationality.
They believe that what they believe is true, and they so much believe that it’s true that they refuse to look at evidence that it isn’t true. If they are presented with evidence that their beliefs aren’t true, they reject that evidence on the grounds that it’s biased, since it says their beliefs aren’t true.
They say that they aren’t really engaged in good faith argumentation—they’re just teasing libruls. They seem to think that their admitting to be unable to defend their position rationally is a virtue.
I’ve said elsewhere that it’s like when cats get entangled in the blinds and pretend they meant it, but it’s actually worse.
Not all extremists are Trump supporters, but, in my experience, all Trump supporters are extremists in that they refuse to think about how their commitment might be wrong. What has happened, as always happens in demagoguery, is that their sense of themselves as good people has gotten attached to the claim that supporting Trump was/is a good choice. They believe that admitting that their support was mistaken would be shameful submitting to anti-Trumpers. They live in a world of demagoguery in which there are two groups: the good and the bad. They think that admitting that Trump was bad means admitting that they are the bad group.
Everyone makes bad decisions. Imagine that you decided to invest in a Redball, Inc project that claimed it would eternally keep squirrels from the redball, and it went bust. Does that mean you’re a bad person, that what the squirrels said was right?
No. It means you made a bad decision. And making better decisions means understanding why investing in Redball, Inc seemed like a good idea. Having gotten suckered doesn’t make you a bad person, but a person who has reasoned badly. If we think about decision-making as good or bad people, then we’re in a world of demagoguery. If we think about decision-making in terms of better or worse ways, then we have ways of agreeing with wildly different people. We’re in the world of democracy.
The problem is that Fox, a completely demagogic site, is trusted by 40% of people because it is demagogic. Fox, Limbaugh, and various others are completely anti-democratic. They’re authoritarian populist. And that’s why people like them. People like hearing that their point of view is the only legitimate one, that they are the real people, and so only the political agenda promoted by someone who embodies real people is democracy (that’s how current GOP rhetoric says that their minority views are the real American views).
Because the premise of the pro-GOP propaganda machine is that only their political position is the real position of real people, then people advocating it can feel that they’re the realists, arguing from a real position. It isn’t real in terms of being falsifiable; it’s real in terms of feeling real. And it’s real because they can find evidence.
Fox’s talking points are derived deductively from whatever talking points will be most effective at supporting today’s GOP agenda. And their rhetoric is irrational (such as inconsistent appeals to major premises and refusal to look at disconfirming data, lame whaddaboutism).
What’s kind of genius about the rabid pro-Trump propaganda is that it is telling people, “Say this, and, then, when people point out that what we’ve told you to say is stupid, false, fallacious, and you can’t defend it, then say you’re just triggering libs.” They’ve found a way to transform the pro-Trump camp’s inability to support Trump rationally into a virtue.
I think this rhetorical strategy is an admission that the GOP political agenda—especially supporting Trump—is a fragile house of cards that can’t stand even the breath of rational-critical policy argumentation. I think that’s important. People with good policies can support them in argumentation. People with bad policies can’t. So, we should start with the observation that supporting Trump is rationally indefensible.
Supporters of Trump and the GOP are well-trained in deflection. If a critic points out that, for instance, Trump’s vacations not only cost taxpayers far more than the trips Obama took that had Fox pundits and viewers choking with rage, but a tremendous amount of that money went directly to Trump. If you point that out, though, you’ll get deflection, usually some version of whaddaboutism. The basic argument is that “Trump is good because Biden kicked a squirrel.” The impulse for critics of Trump is to take issue with the minor premise. We’ll try to show that Biden didn’t kick a squirrel, or it wasn’t a squirrel, or Trump has kicked more squirrels. If you want to do that (and I often do) go for it, but just be clear that it won’t work because Trump supporters don’t support Trump because of his behavior to squirrels. They support Trump. They then find reasons to justify their support. Their position isn’t rational.
Here’s a digression that won’t be interesting to most people, but, if you teach argumentation, you need to be able to follow this.
“Trump is good because Biden kicked a squirrel” is an enthymeme with an undistributed middle.
A is B b/c C did D.
A [Trump] is B [good] because C [Biden] kicked a squirrel [D].
Instead of arguing the minor premise (whether Biden kicked a squirrel), point out that the whole argument is fallacious. They might both be bad.
So, how do you argue with people who won’t (can’t) argue their case rationally, engage in deflection, and when, pantsed, will just claim to be trolling when they’ve made a fool of themselves argumentatively?
You can argue with them to see if you can get them to change their minds. (You can, but they’ll never admit to it, which is interesting–they think being closed to persuasion is a virtue. I find that very odd.)
There are, I think, three responses that sometimes work. First, if it’s possible, show them that their claims are refuted by in-group sources.
Second, show them that the way they reason about politics isn’t how they reason about their job. A doctor who had a commitment to a particular treatment and refused to look at any studies that showed his commitment might be wrong would be a terrible doctor. A citizen who does the same is a terrible citizen.[2]
Third, and the most effective, is refusing to argue with them unless they put forward a rational argument. Ask them: are your beliefs about Trump falsifiable? What evidence would cause you to change your mind about Trump?
If the answer is no, and nothing, then you say, “Fine, your beliefs aren’t rational, and we aren’t talking politics.”
They will try to make you defend whatever they think Biden believes, and you have several options.
You can say, “We aren’t talking politics. Have more pie.” You can also say, “If Biden is wrong, that doesn’t mean Trump is right. Are your beliefs about Trump falsifiable? What evidence would cause you to change your mind about Trump? If not and nothing, then we aren’t talking politics because your position isn’t rational.” You can be very loving in what you say, “I love you so much, and this topic makes us all unhappy, so let’s talk about cousin Dwerp winning a hokey-pokey trophy.” Some people I know have said, “You taught me to reason thoughtfully, and you can’t when it comes to Trump, and that makes me sad. Let’s change the subject.”
Stand your ground. Refuse to talk about politics. They will do everything they can to shift the burden of proof to you, but you can just refuse to take it on. They’ll engage in passive-aggressive swipes at Biden and Democrats. When they do so, raise an eyebrow like Vivien Leigh, ask them if they’re trying to talk politics, snicker, smirk, walk out of the room, take a careful assessment of your fingernails, offer them pie, ignore them, do complicated math problems in your head, but you are under no obligation to engage people who are engaged in demagoguery. If they won’t say that their beliefs are falsifiable and that they can name the evidence that would cause them to change their minds, then they aren’t open to argumentation.
They will explode like someone throwing a match into a fireworks stand. In my experience, they and their enablers will try to use norms of “let’s get along” to allow them to make their arguments while silencing you. You might have to leave. Authoritarian families will try to make you the villain, although the Trump supporter is the one who violated boundaries (in authoritarian families, only the asshole is allowed to set boundaries).
It is not your job to put out the fire they have started on themselves by supporting someone who is rationally indefensible. Trump appeals to authoritarians. Paradoxically, insisting on the authority of argument, which means a lot of walking away and refusing to engage, has far more impact than staying in the authoritarian space and trying to refute demagogic arguments point by point.
Change the subject, and, if that doesn’t work, walk away.
[1] I have run across figures who can defend specific actions of his. I’m not saying that they’re right, or that I agree with them–being right and being able to put forward a rational-critical argument aren’t the same thing.
[2] Here is another issue that makes me ragey. Propaganda is for free, since it’s paid for by groups that can profit from it getting out there. Being actually informed about politics is incredibly expensive.
Photo from here: https://www.wsj.com/articles/trumps-unhappy-returns-11601333853
I wrote a bunch of posts called “Arguing with Trump supporters,” and decided to use the term “Trump supporters,” but “arguing” was really the distinguishing term. I was talking about the group of people who still try to defend Trump, either in person or on the internet. They’re mostly repeating pro-Trump media talking points, and they don’t even try to defend him through rational argumentation. I’m not sure they ever had reasons to support him, as much as passionate beliefs about him and government.
When James Arthur Ray—a self-help bozo who made his money telling people how to make money (when he made his money telling people how to make money)–was exposed as not only murderously irresponsible, but a person telling people how to be successful when he was underwater in terms of debt, there were blog posts (which have since disappeared) saying that the fact that he had more debts that profit wasn’t evidence that his advice was bad. It was, they said, a kind of success.
In other words, for them, that you have a lot of money to spend means that you’re successful, even if you have that money because you have unmanageable loans, fraudulent claims about your wealth, and skeezy ways of getting the money. They were admiring a con artist.
Trump’s base—his cult [1]—will love that he screwed over the government through fraud. They’re beyond reasoning with, since they have no reasons to support him, and they like that he’s a con artist. (It’s interesting that they don’t realize he’s conning them.) This post is about a different set of people.
That other set of people voted for Trump did give reasons, and did (in 2016 anyway) often engage in rational argumentation to advocate for voting for him.[2] These are the people who in 2016 expressed some ambivalence about voting for him, but who gave reasons for their voting that way, and almost none of those reasons now apply. I wonder about them.
Here were the reasons I heard:
1) they hated HRC; 2) he has no relevant experience, but he’d hire the best people (I heard this a lot); 3) he’s a buffoon, but the GOP will keep him in line; 4) he’d appoint justices who would overturn Roe v. Wade; 5) he’s a good business man, and we need a businessman’s perspective on how to run government; 6) they think Democrats will raise taxes on businesses and the very wealthy, either force businesses to fund ethical health benefits for workers or have substantial government-subsidized healthcare, enforce environmental regulations, promote non-partisan redistricting policies.
So, here’s their situation now.
1) HRC isn’t running.
2) He never hired the best people. As early as 2017 it became clear that the best people won’t work with him because he’s unpredictable, unreliable, and disloyal. (I assume that his inability to hire good lawyers is why Barr is trying to get the DOJ to take over Trump’s worst case.) His personal lawyer is Giuliani, whom no sensible person would hire to fight a parking ticket. In fact, like many narcissists, Trump deliberately hires underqualified people so that they are completely beholden to him. I can’t imagine any of the people who said in 2016 “He’ll hire the best people” looking at whom Trump has hired (and fired) and thinking those are people whom they would hire for anything that requires more intelligence than being a crash test dummy.
3) When people argued in 2016 that the GOP would keep him in line, others said (correctly), that’s exactly what the conservatives said about Hitler. Since, clearly (or not), Trump wasn’t Hitler, his supporters ignored that argument. It wasn’t a claim that Trump would kill all the Jews, but that narcissistic people on the edge of sociopathy can’t be controlled. The better argument (and the one I wish I’d made when arguing with people) was: when has that worked? When has someone as difficult to work with, as narcissistic, as mercurial as Trump ever been controlled by a political party? (The answer is: never.) He isn’t controlled. It’s important to note that people who worked with him have described him as a threat to the country.
4). If your only reason to vote for Trump was that he would appoint enough justices to overturn Roe v. Wade, that’s a done deal. So there’s no longer any reason to vote for him. (I wonder about this one a lot—I think it’s really a moment of truth for whether the people who made this argument actually were all that ambivalent about Trump’s racism, reckless rhetoric, and appalling character.)
5a) This argument–he’s a good businessman–is the only one that the taxes affect. Even his defenders aren’t disputing that Trump lost a lot of money, or that he owes a lot of money–their argument, as far as I can tell, is that The New York Times hasn’t proven fraud (see, for instance, this WSJ editorial— talk about a low bar). If they’re saying his taxes aren’t fraudulent, then they’re saying it’s clear that he made no money from his businesses; he’s wealthy because of his TV show. That’s the reasonable inference.
I have to point out that lots of people in 2016 said that Trump was not a business success, because a reasonable assessment of his assets (even with all his lying and evasion) would lead to that conclusion. In my experience, the people who defended him as a successful businessman when presented with that information had the same argument that defenders of James Arthur Ray had–so what if it was a con and he’s underwater in terms of debt? He’s got money to spend, and that’s success.
5b) It’s interesting that this was exactly the argument made for Bush Jr., which people conveniently forgot when Trump was running. There’s no evidence that businessmen (it’s always men) who go into government make government more efficient. And I always think that’s a weird argument because there are a lot of things one can say about massive corporations, but being efficient with their use of resources isn’t a claim that withstands any scrutiny. So, the notion that a successful businessman would be a great President is one of those things that some people believe but can’t defend rationally.
6) Don’t I wish.
Democrats don’t have a recent history of passing that level of social safety net—the last time was under LBJ. And, even if they did, those policies don’t lead to Stalinist socialism. That’s an empirical claim subject to disproof. Were that narrative right, then there would be countries where people slid slowly—through one democratic socialist policy after another—into Stalinism.
And that country would be?….
In fact, although countries have slid into increasingly authoritarian governments (such as Russia now), no government slid into communist socialism. Israel has been socialist for a long time, after all. So, just to be clear, the fear-mongering about what happens if we adopt universal health care, for instance, has literally no evidence to support the claim that we’ll end up as the USSR.
So, I’m curious what those people will do—will they vote for Trump again?
[1] That is, his base that neither wants nor admires democracy but openly wants an authoritarian government in which someone they feel represents them has unlimited powers. That’s called fascism, in case you’re wondering.
[2] Being able to engage in rational argumentation to support your position doesn’t mean your argument is true or right or ethical, let alone that I agree with it. It’s actually a fairly low bar, so it’s interesting that Trump supporters can’t meet it.
