THE VIOLENCE THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME

I consider most of the social sciences, psychology included, to be no more than pseudo-sciences, in envy of the real sciences where measurement and precision are possible. In psychology we had the fantasies of Freud, with his compellingly well-balanced complexes of Oedipus for boys and Electra for girls; then we had the “science” of Behaviorism that borrowed a few concepts from the theory of systems in Electrical Engineering, treating the human psyche as a closed system; nowadays we have things that seem to make more sense, like the Stoic-reminiscent method of Cognitive Behavior Therapy, but what do I know.

In any case, many people talk to their pets and feel better in the process, so why not talk to a psychologist. One concept from psychology that I do appreciate is that of cognitive dissonance. A situation where reality and one’s mind are in disagreement. Say, you admire your father then one day you see him punch your equally beloved mother in the face. If you simply process the new information and update your mind accordingly, you may call the police or confront your father. There is no dissonance there. But if you decide to ignore the situation or worse, persuade yourself that actually, your mother had it coming, that’s a serious cognitive dissonance.

Clearly, that is also the reality of crime in Chicago and in America in general. National crime statistics are very clear: Blacks’ rate of criminality, especially when it comes to violent crime, is off the charts. So here’s a chart:

Meaning, given that blacks are only 13% of the population, yet they commit 56% of all murders, the black rate of murder is 8.2 higher than that of non-blacks. Sorry, it’s just true.

The reality in our large urban centers, such as Chicago, my own city, is even more stark.

Let that sink in for a second. 74% of all arrests in Chicago are of black people. Meaning, crime in Chicago is a completely black phenomenon! Without the criminal element of the dysfunctional black community, we would have the crime rates of Zurich, Switzerland.

As a foreigner without the legacy of being indoctrinated in an American high school, the reality of black criminality is completely obvious to me. I look at the numbers and there it is, like the Mona Lisa emerging from a set of pigments on a canvas. Yet mention this to Americans, especially members of the professional class such as my fellow management consultants, and you get giggles, wrath, shrieks, embarrassment, and general idiocy. Meaning, you witness a cognitive dissonance.

“Where did you get these data?”

“That’s racist!”

“The police are racist, they only go after black men! Even Chicago’s black mayor and black police chief!”

“LOL we shouldn’t talk about this!”

“Black Lives Matter!”

“It’s about guns! Abolish the Second Amendment!”

This is perhaps the deepest taboo in American society, the violence that dare not speak its name. A combination of conformism, the dread of being ostracized as a “racist,” and a fundamental sense of guilt.

The carnage in Chicago is unbelievable. We finished 2020 with 769 homicides, almost all black-on-black, or about 20 cases per 100,000 residents. This is about the murder rate of Mexico. This is much higher than the rate of death from war, terrorism, and homicide combined in Israel in a given year (about 1.5 per 100,000 residents. Think about it next time you wonder if it’s safe to visit). Yet here is the New York Times telling us it’s really not that bad! What’s a little slice of the Third-World by the Great Lakes. The gender-studies majors of the NYT editorial board assure us this is just a mathematical misperception.

Last night Chicago experienced a mass shooting resulting in the killing of four, and then we suffered four more killings in additional cases of homicide. The national media, excluding a few local outlets, which typically crave news of mass shootings, remained silent. There can be no recognition of black crime.

Yet as with many things in life, people do recognize the truth, at least implicitly, when it comes to their own safety and even more so (unless they are totally demented) the safety of their children. In a natural act of self-sorting, Chicago is indeed a highly self-segregated city. While attending diversity training at work, parents then move to neighborhoods with “good” schools (meaning, schools with a more felicitous demographic profile). Sporting a BLM sign in their well-manicured yards, uppity “Karens” live as far as possible from Chicago’s black neighborhoods, enjoying lily-white French bakeries and New American Cuisine brunch spots. When the sirens sound a little too close, they cast a nervous look in the direction of little Chloe, enjoying her organic pancakes, and loudly hum a tune by Katy Perry.

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