The Roman Numeral Trap: When History Meets the Teleprompter
It is a moment that satisfies every cynical bone in our collective bodies: a United States lawmaker, standing before a microphone, refers to "World War II" as "World War 11." While it makes for a hilarious viral clip, it reveals a much deeper, more unsettling reality about the people who hold the levers of global power. From a behavioral standpoint, this is a classic "glitch in the matrix"—a moment where the carefully curated persona of a "leader" collapses into the reality of a person who is merely reading a script they don't understand.
Historically, we expect our leaders to be the keepers of the collective memory. World War II is the foundational myth of the modern West; it is the event that defined the current global order. To see a politician look at "WWII" and see the number eleven suggests a level of historical illiteracy that goes beyond a simple typo. It suggests that for some in power, history isn't a series of lived lessons or causal events—it’s just "content" to be consumed and repeated. Like the ancient scribes who copied texts in languages they couldn't speak, some modern politicians have become vessels for rhetoric they haven't bothered to comprehend.
The darker side of human nature is our tendency to prioritize signaling over substance. We live in an era of "teleprompter leadership," where the primary skill is the ability to look authoritative while reciting words prepared by a 24-year-old staffer. When the lawmaker says "World War 11," they are inadvertently admitting that they are disconnected from the weight of the past. It’s a business model built on aesthetics rather than intellect.
Ultimately, this mistake is a gift to the cynics because it confirms our darkest suspicion: that the "great men and women" of history have been replaced by actors who can't even follow the stage directions. If they think we’ve already had eleven world wars, it’s no wonder they seem so casual about starting the next one. After all, what’s one more digit when you aren't the one doing the counting?
The American academy is graying, and not in the "distinguished elder" sort of way, but in a "clinging to the desk until rigor mortis sets in" fashion. Recent data and critiques, notably from figures like Samuel Moyn, highlight a grim reality: the tenure system, combined with the abolition of mandatory retirement, has transformed elite universities into high-end assisted living facilities—with better espresso and more expensive chairs.
From a biological and evolutionary standpoint, humans are hardwired to protect their territory and resources. In the tribal past, an elder who no longer hunted would step aside to let the youth lead. In the modern University tribe, the elders have discovered a magical spell called Tenure. This legal shield allows them to occupy the highest-paid slots, control curriculum, and monopolize research funding while effectively doing less work than a frantic adjunct professor living out of a car.
It is a classic display of the "Selfish Gene" in a bureaucratic habitat. By the time a professor hits 70, they aren't just teaching history; they are history. When leadership and innovation typically stem from the hungry, neuroplastic minds of the young, we have instead handed the keys of the kingdom to a generation that views TikTok as a hardware store and treats a 1985 syllabus like a sacred relic.
The recent legislative crackdowns in states like Oklahoma, Florida, and Tennessee—stripping tenure or enforcing draconian reviews—are a predictable, if blunt, immune response to this stagnation. While I sympathize with the need for academic freedom, we must admit that "freedom" has frequently become a mask for "tenured inertia." If the Ivory Tower refuses to ventilate itself, the outside world will eventually take a sledgehammer to the windows. We need a system that honors wisdom without subsidizing irrelevance.
America's Shifting Sands: Anti-Intellectualism, the Rise and Retreat of "Woke," and the Enduring Trump Era
Richard Hofstadter's Anti-Intellectualism in American Life, published in 1963, remains a foundational text for understanding the persistent suspicion of intellect and expertise in the United States. Its insights are more relevant than ever as we analyze the turbulent decades since its publication, marked by the powerful ascent and subsequent recalibration of "woke" culture, and the enduring political force of Donald Trump. These phenomena, though distinct, are deeply intertwined with Hofstadter's "anti-intellectual tradition," revealing a complex interplay of cultural forces shaping American society.
The Enduring Core of Anti-Intellectualism
Hofstadter defined anti-intellectualism as a "resentment and suspicion of the life of the mind, and those who are considered to represent it; and a disposition to constantly minimize the value of that life."He traced its origins to evangelical Protestantism, the commercial ethos, and democratic populism, all of which, at different points, fostered a distrust of intellectual elites in favor of common sense, practicality, and emotional conviction. This fundamental distrust has consistently resurfaced in new forms, finding fertile ground in a society grappling with rapid change and information overload.
The Rise and Retreat of "Woke" Culture
Beginning in the 2010s, particularly amplified by movements like Black Lives Matter and #MeToo, "woke" culture gained significant prominence. Initially rooted in African American vernacular to denote awareness of social injustice and racial prejudice, the term broadened to encompass a heightened sensitivity to systemic inequalities across race, gender, and sexuality. Proponents championed its role in fostering empathy, raising awareness, and promoting social justice, pushing for diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives in institutions from corporations to universities.
However, as "woke" culture expanded, it also generated significant backlash. Critics, including some from the political left, argued that its more militant and uncompromising expressions sometimes led to "cancel culture," stifled free speech, and prioritized identity politics over universal principles or individual merit. The rapid adoption of "woke" terminology and concepts in mainstream institutions often felt prescriptive to many, leading to a sense of cultural overreach and resentment. While the underlying issues of social justice remain critical, the term "woke" itself has, for many, become a pejorative, signifying perceived excesses or a top-down imposition of ideology.
Trump's Ascent and the Anti-Woke Backlash
The rise of Donald Trump in the mid-2010s and his continued political influence are inextricably linked to this anti-woke sentiment and the broader anti-intellectual tradition. Trump effectively leveraged the existing distrust of elites and institutions, which Hofstadter identified. He frequently mocked "experts," "academics," and "mainstream media," portraying them as out of touch with the concerns of everyday Americans. His populist rhetoric tapped into a deep vein of resentment among those who felt alienated or dismissed by what they perceived as "woke" agendas being pushed by cultural and intellectual establishments.
For many of his supporters, Trump's unfiltered, often unpolished communication style was a refreshing contrast to what they viewed as the overly cautious or politically correct language of established figures. His political success was fueled, in part, by his willingness to directly challenge prevailing "woke" narratives, particularly on issues of race, gender, and national identity. The "war on woke" became a central rallying cry, leading to policy initiatives aimed at dismantling DEI programs and restricting discussions on certain social justice topics in education. This demonstrated the immense political power of aligning with the anti-intellectual current and positioning oneself as a champion against perceived ideological overreach.
Will the Tide Turn Again in the Next 10 Years?
Predicting the future of cultural tides is inherently challenging, but several factors suggest a continued ebb and flow:
Generational Divide: Younger generations generally exhibit a higher prioritization of social justice over free speech in certain contexts, suggesting that "woke" ideas, even if the term itself fades, will remain influential among a significant demographic. As these generations gain more influence, their values will continue to shape institutions.
The Persistence of Grievances: The underlying issues of racial inequality, gender disparities, and economic anxieties that fueled "woke" movements are not disappearing. Future social and economic shifts could easily reignite intensified calls for systemic change, potentially leading to new forms of "woke" expression or a resurgence of its core tenets.
Technological Acceleration: The digital landscape will continue to amplify voices, create echo chambers, and facilitate the rapid spread of both information and misinformation. This environment is highly conducive to quick shifts in public sentiment and the polarization that feeds both "woke" and anti-"woke" reactions.
Political Realignment: Both major political parties are grappling with how to navigate these cultural wars. While a significant portion of the electorate has expressed fatigue with the intensity of "woke" debates, the issues themselves are deeply embedded. Political leaders will continue to calibrate their messaging, and public opinion could swing as new challenges and leaders emerge.
The Anti-Intellectual Constant: Hofstadter's core argument suggests that anti-intellectualism is a recurring feature, not a temporary blip. While its targets and expressions may change, the underlying suspicion of intellectual authority will likely persist. This means that any dominant cultural movement, whether "woke" or its counter-movement, will always be susceptible to populist backlash that questions its intellectual underpinnings or perceived elitism.
In the next 10 years, we are unlikely to see a complete "fall" of "woke" ideas, but rather a continued evolution and perhaps a more nuanced, less confrontational public presentation of its core principles. Simultaneously, the anti-intellectual current that propelled Trump's rise will remain a potent force, capable of rallying opposition to anything perceived as a new form of intellectual or cultural imposition. The American pendulum is more likely to continue its wide swings, rather than settling into a stable middle ground, driven by the dynamic tension between these powerful forces.
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