On Bryan Caplan’s recommendation, I just watched the movie Downfall. To me, it depicts an extremely repulsive and reprehensible group of people, certainly compared to any real people I’ve ever met. So much so that I wonder about its realism, though the sources I’ve found all seem to praise its realism. Thus I was quite surprised to hear that critics
"To me, it depicts an extremely repulsive and reprehensible group of people, certainly compared to any real people I’ve ever met."
The writers of the articles aren't comparing the depictions to real people that they know in person. They don't know how. They're comparing them to something like well-done tv drama characters.
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"The conclusion I have to draw here is that no remotely realistic depiction of real bad people would satisfy these critics."
If an honest depiction of a person showed them to be easily identifiable as really bad, then that really bad person shouldn't have been successful in committing really bad acts at a large scale in the first place. There are tons of people who are evil at small scales (and cartoonishly so). The people who are really scary are the ones who we can't identify as evil, are high functioning, can achieve very large scale acts of evil, and who can get lots of other people to follow them.
"...most mob members probably don’t want to look too close at that target’s details, for fear that such details would make him or her seem more realistic, and thus less evil"
If some people are evil, but very non-obviously so, then this could be the decent strategy. There are likely much better strategies.
"But we care more about showing off just how outraged we are at evil than we care about effective response to it."
Robin, I think you've made a plausible argument that the first thing is nonzero and even substantial, but I don't see an argument that it exceeds the second thing.
I think it is a matter of taste. Cartoons are easier fare to consume without much thinking, but if thinking is what interests you, their shallowness may be diversions but offer little to ponder and go as quickly as they come. More significant and lasting drama really delves into humans and their defects and flaws, exploring their development and growth. This ends to be difficult with historical subjects which require interpolation and extrapolation while maintaining some authenticity so there is always a tension between historical and dramatic, real and symbolic.
The Man In the High Castle also humanizes the Nazis without detracting from their evil.
Any art that I will take seriously must have the integrity to admit that evil is a very human thing, that it lives in every bosom to some degree, that no one is pure.
I think there's something to be explored in the idea that evil people are not allowed to be portrayed as human. Speaking as a human, it is scary to think that, if I were in different circumstances, I could easily be a murderer or a Hitler. A human Hitler forces us to confront the reality of our biological association with him and the very real possibility that any one of us could have been a guard at Auschwitz or one of his prized young secretaries. Playing resistance on twitter allows people to think they would be in the real resistance in an actually dangerous time and likely makes it easier to dehumanize those on the other side. Closely related to this is that we do not need to confront Hitler as a human if he is a cartoon, as you put it. Likely, the signalling story undergirds all of this along with a heavy base layer of psychology.
"Hitler loved dogs? But wait, I love dogs too and I'm not evil!"
They can't share the same emotions of the most evil man to ever exist, so that must be wrong. If it's not factually wrong, then it has to be wrong somehow. If they can't reasonably contradict the facts, then they need everyone else to keep it quiet so it doesn't make them uncomfortable. Even though loving dogs has nothing to do with how evil someone might be.
Humanizing evil, or portraying it accurately, reminds people of the uncomfortable truth of how close to evil they are themselves. A trace of "evil" exists in every human. It's a truth we can either confront and conquer, OR it's a truth we can hide from and pretend it's not there. It's ironic that the second option, I think, would be considered more evil.
I think you're exactly right on in your analysis. I think it also helps explain the "no-platforming" idiocy: "OMG, what if we he starts making sense when we actually hear him talk? Better not risk it!" I would add that the real lesson of WW2 should be that realistic people (who are occasionally relatable and even likable) somehow managed to perpetrate the almost incomprehensible atrocities. It's just that a fervent devotion to a noble-seeming cause tends to sometimes transition into monstrosity, and this happens through gradual, comprehensible, relatable steps. If the WW2 perpetrators really were cartoon villains, we can feel safe, because cartoon villains aren't real. If they were smart, interesting and misguidedly well-intentioned people, that's much scarier and harder to confront.
"To me, it depicts an extremely repulsive and reprehensible group of people, certainly compared to any real people I’ve ever met."
The writers of the articles aren't comparing the depictions to real people that they know in person. They don't know how. They're comparing them to something like well-done tv drama characters.
~~~~
"The conclusion I have to draw here is that no remotely realistic depiction of real bad people would satisfy these critics."
If an honest depiction of a person showed them to be easily identifiable as really bad, then that really bad person shouldn't have been successful in committing really bad acts at a large scale in the first place. There are tons of people who are evil at small scales (and cartoonishly so). The people who are really scary are the ones who we can't identify as evil, are high functioning, can achieve very large scale acts of evil, and who can get lots of other people to follow them.
"...most mob members probably don’t want to look too close at that target’s details, for fear that such details would make him or her seem more realistic, and thus less evil"
If some people are evil, but very non-obviously so, then this could be the decent strategy. There are likely much better strategies.
"But we care more about showing off just how outraged we are at evil than we care about effective response to it."
Robin, I think you've made a plausible argument that the first thing is nonzero and even substantial, but I don't see an argument that it exceeds the second thing.
I think it is a matter of taste. Cartoons are easier fare to consume without much thinking, but if thinking is what interests you, their shallowness may be diversions but offer little to ponder and go as quickly as they come. More significant and lasting drama really delves into humans and their defects and flaws, exploring their development and growth. This ends to be difficult with historical subjects which require interpolation and extrapolation while maintaining some authenticity so there is always a tension between historical and dramatic, real and symbolic.
The Man In the High Castle also humanizes the Nazis without detracting from their evil.
Any art that I will take seriously must have the integrity to admit that evil is a very human thing, that it lives in every bosom to some degree, that no one is pure.
I think there's something to be explored in the idea that evil people are not allowed to be portrayed as human. Speaking as a human, it is scary to think that, if I were in different circumstances, I could easily be a murderer or a Hitler. A human Hitler forces us to confront the reality of our biological association with him and the very real possibility that any one of us could have been a guard at Auschwitz or one of his prized young secretaries. Playing resistance on twitter allows people to think they would be in the real resistance in an actually dangerous time and likely makes it easier to dehumanize those on the other side. Closely related to this is that we do not need to confront Hitler as a human if he is a cartoon, as you put it. Likely, the signalling story undergirds all of this along with a heavy base layer of psychology.
"Hitler loved dogs? But wait, I love dogs too and I'm not evil!"
They can't share the same emotions of the most evil man to ever exist, so that must be wrong. If it's not factually wrong, then it has to be wrong somehow. If they can't reasonably contradict the facts, then they need everyone else to keep it quiet so it doesn't make them uncomfortable. Even though loving dogs has nothing to do with how evil someone might be.
Humanizing evil, or portraying it accurately, reminds people of the uncomfortable truth of how close to evil they are themselves. A trace of "evil" exists in every human. It's a truth we can either confront and conquer, OR it's a truth we can hide from and pretend it's not there. It's ironic that the second option, I think, would be considered more evil.
I think you're exactly right on in your analysis. I think it also helps explain the "no-platforming" idiocy: "OMG, what if we he starts making sense when we actually hear him talk? Better not risk it!" I would add that the real lesson of WW2 should be that realistic people (who are occasionally relatable and even likable) somehow managed to perpetrate the almost incomprehensible atrocities. It's just that a fervent devotion to a noble-seeming cause tends to sometimes transition into monstrosity, and this happens through gradual, comprehensible, relatable steps. If the WW2 perpetrators really were cartoon villains, we can feel safe, because cartoon villains aren't real. If they were smart, interesting and misguidedly well-intentioned people, that's much scarier and harder to confront.