Thank Goodness for Self-Hatred?

“These kinds of ideas are so backward they could only be from America,” cracked an international student in one of my classes. For a comment that would have been taboo if he had narrowed it to one of America’s ethnic groups, it was surprisingly well-received. The Americans at the table laughed and nodded their heads sadly, while the only objections came from foreigners. Strange though this reaction might seem, it’s cause to celebrate: America’s self-doubt is a strength, not a weakness.

It’s true that the storied anti-Americanism of ivory-tower intellectuals remains prevalent; though it is subtler than right wing talk-show hosts make it out to be. Polls reveal universities to be hotbeds of both concern and vehement criticism with regard to American society and politics: a full 63 percent of our research faculties say they seriously doubt the future of their country .

In general, Americans who are highly educated, well-connected, urban, or any of the above—a demographic with an enormous influence on both policy and public opinion—are wont to lament or lambaste their government and culture in a manner unthinkable to the elites of other developed countries. In Japan, it took a decade of recession and stagnation for the nation’s leaders to accept a transition away from the “Japanese model” of corporatism and state subsidies. The mere suggestion of changes in the famously cozy French employment laws sparked massive protests by literally millions of students. And in Germany, even the election of reformist opposition leader Angela Merkel failed to change much as the parliamentary elite forced a coalition to stall transformation.

But our resistance to the inertia of contentment is far from a flaw. Where we may seem more doubtful than other countries hides a deeper, stubborn idealism. Even among the intelligentsia, very few are willing to man the barricades of revolution when disillusioned, or even to pack up and leave. Even amid widespread grumbling and malcontent, we observe levels of flag-waving usually only seen in the personality cult of a dictator. And while we constantly revise our views of our own Founding Fathers, mourning their unfortunate vices (such as slave-holding), they are still almost deified in our schools and in our popular histories for their promotion of equality and liberty.

So while we accept criticism of our state and society, at the end of the day we still believe in the ideals on which they rest. 75 percent of American adults are unambiguously proud to be Americans, and 98 percent of American youth claim to be. And 81 percent of American youth expressed a desire to do something to serve their country, as opposed to 55 percent of French or 46 percent of British youth , according to sociologist Seymour Martin Lipset.

In the end, peering beneath the mirage of self-loathing, we find in fact a healthy tradition of self-criticism and improvement. The tendency toward navel-gazing and negativity apparent particularly among our brightest citizens, while sometimes excessive, remains far preferable to conformity and laziness. If the rest of the world feels inclined to characterize the United States as close-minded and brutish, let them; our most scathing criticisms often come from within. In the end, it’s these that matter, because they spur us on to better things: anything to disprove the doubters.

Daniel C. Barbero ’11, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Canaday Hall.