Vulgarity laid bare

Since modernity is dedicated to the advancement of the common man, it has to champion common tastes.

Common isn’t necessarily the same as vulgar but, in the absence of strong discouragement, it may gravitate in that direction. And, if encouraged, it definitely will.

The US, the first and most successful state of modernity, provides a useful – if far from the only – illustration of this tendency. Western European countries, after all, benefit from centuries of aristocratic culture. The US, on the other hand, was explicitly instituted as a challenge to that culture, if not its outright rejection.

“Repudiation of Europe,” the novelist John Dos Passos once wrote, “is, after all, America’s main excuse for being.” Since, in the West, it’s Europe that’s the historical depository of taste, manners and civility, such repudiation is fraught with dire consequences – especially if elevated to the status of ideology.

This isn’t to deny that many Americans, in alas steadily decreasing numbers, are civilised people. But even those mavericks are aware that vulgarity of language, manners and dress acts as a badge in their country, or else a password securing admission into the inner sanctum.

Nowhere is this more noticeable than in politics. The British, whose vulgarity is otherwise rapidly catching up with the Americans’, still cherish the institution of a monarchy reigning through, or rather in, parliament.

That imposes some vestiges of style on our parliamentary and electoral politics, leaving Britons amused, not always good-naturedly, by the vulgar spectacles of American primaries, party conferences, debates and political campaigning. The very length of US presidential campaigns, typically restarting the day after the inauguration, is a source of much mirth in Britain.

Our politicians may be – as a rule are – corrupt in every moral and intellectual sense, but at least they try, with variable success, to maintain some veneer of civilised style. This is reflected in their campaigns, devoid of any serious substance though they usually are.

For one thing, we ban political advertising on TV, a medium that encourages vulgarity like no other. Rather than political campaigners flashing their perfect dentistry on the box, we have middle-aged ladies and gentlemen with blue, red or yellow rosettes pinned to their Barbours knocking on doors and politely asking the residents to vote a certain way.

Sometimes the Barbours, tweeds and sensible shoes give way to more proletarian attire, but at least some clothes are universally present. Not so in America.

There, some celebrities, including Sarah Silverman, Mark Ruffalo, Amy Schumer, Chris Rock and Naomi Campbell, have appeared naked in a clip encouraging people to cast their postal vote early. Surprisingly, they didn’t tell them to vote not only early but also often.

Nor did they suggest how their viewers should vote, but there was no need. All the nudists are known as left-wingers and Trump haters.

Somehow the idea has settled in that casual exhibitionism is a valid way of getting serious points across. Given half the chance, celebrities whip their clothes off as a signal of their belonging in the ranks of fully paid-up vulgarians.

In this case, their pretext for practising what used to be diagnosed as a sexual perversion is the concept of a ‘naked ballot’. This is a ballot form left uncounted because it isn’t properly concealed in the envelope.

The pretext is rather flimsy and far-fetched. Even though I haven’t done any advertising for years, I’m sure it would only take me a few minutes to come up with a dozen tasteful and more interesting ways of communicating the same message.

But of course these celebrities vindicated Marshall McLuhan by proving that the medium is the message. In this case the medium was their nudity catering to the onanistic fantasies of their viewers, vulgar and proud of their vulgarity.

I’m surprised they stopped at mere flashing. I could suggest other ways of using their bodies to make a point. They could have, for example, engaged in intercourse on camera, symbolising either the unity of all Biden supporters or else the outrages perpetrated by Trump on the country.

But even in its actual form, that obscene show lowered the tone of this campaign at a time when one wouldn’t have thought it could be lowered even further. And the tone isn’t the only problem.

Vulgarity reigns supreme so far, but it may yet cede that leadership position to brutality. A recent poll shows that 51 per cent don’t think that Americans will accept the outcome of the election as legitimate, while 56 per cent expect blood in the streets whatever the outcome.

I can’t say I’m surprised. Rampant vulgarity comes at a price – it strips politics of its dignity and solemnity, reducing it to the level of a brawl in a pole-dancing joint. Yet some pomp and circumstance are necessary to add an air of majesty to politics, raising it above suspicions of double dealing and fraud.

And, I hate to break the news to my American friends, Sarah Silverman’s tits, impressive though they are, don’t qualify as pomp and circumstance. However, when bared in public, they do qualify as a lamentable display of vulgarity.