I Might Be Wrong

I Might Be Wrong

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I Might Be Wrong
I Might Be Wrong
How I ALSO Went From Left To Center-Left
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How I ALSO Went From Left To Center-Left

A similar story from a different old millenial

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Jeff Maurer
May 31, 2024
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I Might Be Wrong
I Might Be Wrong
How I ALSO Went From Left To Center-Left
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On Wednesday, Matt Yglesias published a piece called “How I Went From Left to Center-Left”. I enjoyed the piece, and — consistent with my habit of never having any original ideas — thought: “I should do that.”

One reason why I liked the piece is that Matt and I are basically the same age. We have the same points of reference, and our politics were shaped by the same world events. We both came of age as obnoxious (and naive) twerp defenders of Bill Clinton, were repelled by Bush, enjoyed salad days under Obama, and have spent the last decade or so wondering what’s happening on the political left. My only criticism of Matt’s column is that it lacked references to things we older millennials love — where, I ask you, were the Saved By the Bell references, Matt? Why no mention of Squirrel Nut Zippers? Writing a column about coming of age at the turn of the century without mentioning Garbage Pail Kids and the Budweiser frogs is as pointless as trying to call up AOL on your iMac so you can complain about The Phantom Menace while your mom is on the phone.

Matt attributes his political evolution to three factors (and I encourage you to read the column for full detail):

  1. American politics has broadly shifted left.

  2. His views have become more conservative.

  3. He’s become disillusioned with the work of progressive institutions.

This sounds similar to what I’ve experienced. Though I’d frame things a bit differently — this column is that alternate framing. And my story of how I got where I am starts not with world events, but with personal ones.

When I was 14, my family moved from a suburb of Portland (Vancouver, Washington) to a suburb of Norfolk (Great Bridge, Virginia). It’s natural for a kid that age to chafe at a cross-country move, but I didn’t just “chafe”: I was King Bitch, Master of the Realm of Whiny Bitches. From my perspective, my conservative town was basically the Nazi rally at Nuremberg, 24/7, 365. And I amped up my cultural separation by embracing the quasi-anarchist grunge movement, because my time in Washington State gave me a connection to Seattle rock that was only 99.999999% idiotic.

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