There’s a certain kind of man out there we’ve all seen who has a very predictable downward spiral personally and ethically.
He is aging. Perhaps swiftly, more swiftly than usual thanks to lifestyle choices and, ironically, attempts to extend his lifespan.
He starts to make very racist statements. This doesn’t mean he’s just become racist – indeed it is more likely revealing his beliefs and pathologies, and they’re often getting worse. He’s very concerned about other races and of course his. Almost certainly this person is what we’d call White – very White.
He becomes obsessed with genetics and fitness and pseudo-Darwinism. Again, this is perhaps more a revelation than an evolution. But suddenly he’s quite concerned, dare I say radically so.
He is obsessed with reproduction. His race (again, usuallyWhite) must reproduce, though what that race is doesn’t seem to make sense. Perhaps he invokes some kind of generic Whiteness, breathtakingly meaningless in its attempt to lump together people of many backgrounds. He might invoke “European” origins in some unitary manner, as if Europe hasn’t had a history of its people murdering each other in wars for ages.
Inevitably, his obsession with reproduction becomes creepy (or is revealed to be such). He tries to have children with many women. He discusses the fertility of underaged girls in obsessive detail. Perhaps he divorces his wife to marry someone that could be his daughter – or grandaughter. One gets the feeling that this is revelation of and justification of behaviors warranting not just consideration but investigation.
So let me propose that such a man – such men as we are all too used to – are seeking immortality in their racism. Racist they almost certainly are, but there is even more there in the pathology.
They are aging, aging before our eyes and theirs. They have lived life, perhaps being quite successful, but no one can bribe time, only live inside it. They may also be failures, looking back with regret, wanting something to look forward to. Rich or poor, famous or obscure, the flames of history slowly consume them.
So they seek something to give them a sense of immortality, of pemanance in an ever-changing world, and settle on something easily seized on by the pathological – racism. They invest in the survival of their so-called race, whatever bundle of bigotries and demographics they’ve latched on to. They become obsessed with reproduction, both theirs and others, hoping for the immortality in future generations of a specific race.
Of course, their own personal problems become our problems as we’re all to well aware of what fearful bigots can do. Perhaps we didn’t realize how bad they were, but as they got older they got worse, rotting from the inside. Now, many of them at their peak – in age if not wealth – seek to conquer time and they can’t, and it’s our problem.
When I see some White man, aging, obsessed with reproduction and childbearing and demographics, I see someone grasping for immortality and permanence. They latch on to base bias to give them some comfort as their hair falls out and their skin wrinkles. They want something solid in the world as they face the Reaper, and we all know the world isn’t solid.
There, in the end, is the cry of so many bigots – “I am afraid to die.”