IN WHICH I AM DOGMATIC AND UNFRIENDLY. I'll argue that Charlie's digression on the flaws of Aaron Sorkin isn't a digression at all, but an astute take on an essential and damaging tic in contemporary, or at least recent, liberalism. When I wrote my pointedly churlish send-off to The West Wing, this is what I was getting at. Sorkin's desperation to place plausible-sounding arguments in the mouths of his conservative characters -- thus creating a world of well-intentioned philosopher kings engaging in elightened policy debate -- often ends up eviscerating whatever coherence the original conversation possessed. So take Charlie's example: Sorkin's reaching because, frankly, there's not a very good argument against gay marriage. Some people don't like it. It scares them. This isn't an argument, it's a bias. For quite some time now, liberals have taken a tolerant and politically correct stance to political debate, choosing to believe in the essential worth of all policy ideas and reject dogmatism or excess confidence in their own solutions. In parts, that's an admirable impulse; to believe the best of your opponents and remain open to their insights should rack you up some karmic points. What it doesn't do is win you elections -- indeed, it weakens your ability to respond to bare-knuckle political combat with appropriate rapidity and ruthlessness. And Sorkin's West Wing fantasy world was a prime example of this tic, wherein no liberal argument lacked a worthy rebuttal and so no liberal could truly lament their occasional loss. But, in fact, not every issue has two equally logical sides. Or at least it shouldn't to a liberal. At some point, you have to believe in this stuff because it's right and true, not because progressivism is an attractive political aesthetic. Sorkin has trouble doing that, and it's why West Wing lost its relevance and Studio 60 has struggled to gain traction. The era of feel-good two-siderism has ended, but Sorkin is having trouble evolving past it.
--Ezra Klein