I’ve been trying to make sense of the psychology underlying political correctness for almost thirty years, now. For the first several years it was quite difficult, emotionally. I was very depressed much of the time, which made it difficult to pursue the work, and I did not know why. I had never felt that way in developing theory.
One day, I began to understand what it was about. Up until that time, I had been answering to the voice of my father, and he said “I don’t care what you say, as long as you can prove it.” But this was a different voice. I realized it was the voice of my mother, and she was saying “I don’t care what you can prove, you are a terrible person even to be thinking these thoughts.”
I chose the voice of my father. I went back over my reasoning and my evidence and I concluded they were sound. On the strength of that, I maintained my explorations.
I cannot say that my mother gave up. I still hear from her from time to time. But I do believe she became a bit less noisy, and certainly less shrill. She seemed to resign herself to going through the motions. Good for her; my mother was certainly not stupid.
But I think there is a lesson to be learned from this; a generalization, as it were.
Why, we ask, do people, especially men, have such a hard time standing up to the insanities of political correctness? The answer is that their mothers won’t let them.