The Scott Adams Appeal
Scott Adams, creator of the Dilbert comic strip, is a bit of a homebody. Even before the pandemic, he says he often went weeks without leaving the house. As I listened to his podcast this morning, it occurred to me that the central assumption that underlies his worldview—namely, that reality is a collective hallucination—is to some extent rooted in this reality. Although this idea has probably occurred to thoughtful people since the beginning of time, it has achieved widespread acceptance only among those who are rarely confronted by what Eric Weinstein so aptly refers to as “the unforgiving”.
In ancient China, this idea was often couched in the language of Buddhism, and it appealed primarily to government workers, eunuchs, urban dwellers, and bureaucrats. The same is true of ancient India. In the twentieth-century West, it was often couched in the language of postmodernism, and it appealed primarily to childless urban intellectuals like Michel Foucault. Today, it’s often couched in the language of evolutionary psychology, and it appeals primarily to people who live and work in cyberspace. In other words, the idea that reality is little more than a collective hallucination appeals primarily to people who are, like Scott Adams, for the most part divorced from the earthy realities of farming and child-rearing, and the bloody realities of animal husbandry and military life.
Just as “splendid isolation” from Europe led many British leaders to erroneously conclude that they could largely ignore the messy world of continental politics, freedom from life’s messiness has allowed Scott Adams to develop a worldview that is remarkably theoretical, surprisingly esoteric, and shockingly elitist. His message to his fans is, in essence: ‘If you see what I see, you’re one of the wise, one of the elect, one of the top 20% who are smart enough to understand what I’m saying. If you don’t see what I see, if you don’t agree with me, you’re either lying or stupid.’
Sound familiar? It ought to. Think about it, what do Marxists say if you dare to disagree with their analysis of your society? ‘Either you’re lying or you’ve got false consciousness.’ What do Freudians say if you dare to disagree with their analysis of your soul? ‘Either you’re lying or you’re in denial.’ What do critical race theorists say if you dare to disagree with their analysis? ‘Either you’re willfully blind or woefully ignorant . . . something, something, white fragility.’
What’s invariably missing from systems of this stamp (epistemic humility, grace, the possibility that the know-it-all in question might be wrong) is almost as striking as what’s invariably present: namely, staggering arrogance, bad faith, circular arguments, and fanatical certainty. To see the world through Scott Adams’s eyes is to view most of your fellow citizens with palpable contempt. Like Marx, Freud, and Leo Strauss, Adams makes his fans feel like they’re part of an enlightened elite who see things as they actually are. This is central to his appeal, just as it is central to the perennial appeal of conspiracy theories, and the recent success of QAnon.
