I attended a protest this week at the U.S. Capitol. I was among several thousand people gathered on a steamy D.C. summer evening to speak out against a health-care bill designed to strip our friends and family of their health coverage.
It was near the end of said protest -- as the headline speakers filed out with their well-dressed posses -- that I snapped a selfie of me and my wife. The whole exercise took about seven seconds: we turned away from the crowd, took the picture, then turned back to the labor union official urging people to confront their senators at upcoming July 4 parades.
I posted that selfie on Twitter, as one does, and was almost immediately accused of "virtue signaling," an increasingly common term used on social media to chastise people who engage with society and subsequently tell the world that they are in fact engaging with society.
Here's the definition of virtue signaling, in case you're interested: "The action or practice of publicly expressing opinions or sentiments intended to demonstrate one's good character or the moral correctness of one's position on a particular issue."
Seems straightforward. And fair. That's precisely what I was doing when I posted the photos of the health-care rally on the steps of American political power. I made the trek down to D.C. in the oppressive heat precisely because I believe I'm morally correct in opposing an abominable health-care bill that nakedly strips vulnerable populations of their care so the country's most fabulously wealthy families can have a fat tax cut. Everyone has to take their position in the class war. I've taken mine.
Why else would I have attended the protest? Because I wanted to be fair and balanced? Because I think the GOP's attack on my parents' health care is maybe a good thing that I should support? No. I went because I believe I'm right. I take political positions not for something to argue about at Thanksgiving, but because I think they are the right policies to support. The same could be said for -- oh, I don't know -- every single person who has ever supported a policy, politician, or party.
But here's the funny thing about virtue signaling: the folks on social media who decry virtue signaling are, in fact, signaling their virtue. They don't do this in the same way I do because many of these people don't believe in anything and fancy themselves above politics -- removed from the muck and mire of using government to enforce a political agenda. The anti-virtue signaling crowd believes it's virtuous to look down on politics, that dirty word. My response would be that no one is too good for politics, and if you think you are, you're likely a privileged asshole or a fucking moron who doesn't know he's a fucking moron.
The point of decrying virtue signaling is to tear down those idiots at that protest with their stupid t-shirts and ridiculous signs. Those people think they're making a difference, they think they're effecting change. Worse -- the most unforgivable part of the whole charade -- is that they think they're better than me, the anti-signaler says.
I'm committed to continue virtue signaling at every opportunity, in part because I hope someone disconnected from the political scene might see someone taking a stance and wonder why that person is so committed to that stance. And maybe that person will read up on a topic, and maybe she'll talk to her friends and family about it, and maybe she'll engage with politics that affect real people in real ways. Maybe that person will sever ties with the anti-virtue signaling masses who have no belief system, care about nothing and no one, and get aroused by calling out those who do. Part of my social media shtick is to be some sort of nihilist. I'm not, in fact, a nihilist, but people who think of themselves as far too good for politics are nihilists without equal.
You might ask if I believe I'm better than those who hate virtue signaling. My answer is a short one: yes, of course I do. I'm virtuous.