The Emperor's New Clothes,
America's Denial
Editorial by Lewis Smith -- September 2021
I hope you realized last week’s story wasn’t really about Adolf Hitler’s incompetent leadership. Everything in it was true, but it was about another country at another time (*see reference below). In the same vein, this story is not about an Emperor, it’s about America’s ‘collective denial’ of the calamity we’re in.
Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Emperor's New Clothes” (1837) is today a metaphor standing for anything that smacks of pretense, social hypocrisy or collective denial. It is used when intelligent and sane adults deny truths despite undisputable data staring them in the face. In psychology, ‘denialism’ means a person denies reality to avoid an uncomfortable truth, like someone is an alcoholic, an addict, or incompetent. Hypocrisy tries to make something that is not true appear true, as in simple lying or fabricating information. The story epitomizes ‘pluralistic ignorance’ where something is widely accepted as true or praiseworthy only because the general population is unwilling to criticize it or go against popular opinion. It’s a cancer.
Here’s my shortened version of the tale: An Emperor once spent all his money on being well dressed. He cared only about showing off his new clothes and sadly ignored his duties.
One day two crooks came to town claiming they were weavers. They bragged they could make fabrics which were invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office or who was unusually stupid. The Emperor thought clothes made from that fabric would tell him which men in his empire were unfit for their positions. He could then tell the wise men from the fools.
The two swindlers set up looms and pretended to weave, although there was nothing on them. All the fine silk and gold thread they ordered went into their travel bags, while they worked the empty looms far into the night.
The Emperor sent his sensible old minister to see how the material looked. As the minister entered the room where the swindlers were working their empty looms, he thought, "Heaven help me. I can't see anything at all. Can it be that I'm a fool? Am I unfit to be the minister? I can’t let on that I can't see the cloth." The swindlers proceeded to name all the colors and to explain the intricate pattern. The old minister paid the closest attention, so that he could tell it all to the Emperor. And he did.
The Emperor sent another trustworthy official to see how soon the fabric would be ready. The same thing happened to him. He looked and looked, but as there was no fabric to see, he couldn't see any. "I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must be that I'm unworthy of my office. I mustn't let anyone find out." He told the Emperor the visit was spellbinding.
The Emperor wanted to see the cloth for himself while it was still in the looms. With his advisors, including the two officials who had already gone there, he went to see the two swindlers. He found them weaving with all their might, but without a thread in their looms. “Just look, Your Majesty!" They pointed to the empty looms, and each advisor supposed that the others could see the stuff. "What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can't see anything. Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the Emperor?” But he said, “Oh! It's very pretty," He would not admit he could see nothing.
The men stared and stared, but no one saw anything. They all raved at its beauty. They advised the Emperor to wear clothes made of this wonderful cloth to a procession he was soon to lead, and he agreed. The fake weavers toiled all night and then said, "The Emperor's new clothes are ready." The Emperor came and undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put his new clothes on him, one garment after another. "How well your Majesty's new clothes look! It is a magnificent outfit."
The Emperor turned for one last look in the mirror. "It is a remarkable fit, isn't it?" The noblemen who were to carry his train pretended to hold it high. They didn't dare admit they had nothing to hold. So off went the Emperor in procession under his splendid canopy. Everyone in the streets said, "Oh, how fine are the Emperor's new clothes!" Nobody would confess that they couldn't see anything for that would prove that they were either unfit for their position or a fool.
"But he hasn't got anything on," a little child said. Then people began whispering to each other what the child said. "But he hasn't got anything on!" the whole town cried out at last. The Emperor shivered, for he suspected they were right. But he thought, "This procession has got to go on." So he walked more proudly than ever, as his noblemen held high the train that wasn't there at all.
Collective denial. Pluralistic ignorance. Social hypocrisy. Let’s pretend nothing’s wrong. Even if it’s the last thing we do.
Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Emperor's New Clothes” (1837) is today a metaphor standing for anything that smacks of pretense, social hypocrisy or collective denial. It is used when intelligent and sane adults deny truths despite undisputable data staring them in the face. In psychology, ‘denialism’ means a person denies reality to avoid an uncomfortable truth, like someone is an alcoholic, an addict, or incompetent. Hypocrisy tries to make something that is not true appear true, as in simple lying or fabricating information. The story epitomizes ‘pluralistic ignorance’ where something is widely accepted as true or praiseworthy only because the general population is unwilling to criticize it or go against popular opinion. It’s a cancer.
Here’s my shortened version of the tale: An Emperor once spent all his money on being well dressed. He cared only about showing off his new clothes and sadly ignored his duties.
One day two crooks came to town claiming they were weavers. They bragged they could make fabrics which were invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office or who was unusually stupid. The Emperor thought clothes made from that fabric would tell him which men in his empire were unfit for their positions. He could then tell the wise men from the fools.
The two swindlers set up looms and pretended to weave, although there was nothing on them. All the fine silk and gold thread they ordered went into their travel bags, while they worked the empty looms far into the night.
The Emperor sent his sensible old minister to see how the material looked. As the minister entered the room where the swindlers were working their empty looms, he thought, "Heaven help me. I can't see anything at all. Can it be that I'm a fool? Am I unfit to be the minister? I can’t let on that I can't see the cloth." The swindlers proceeded to name all the colors and to explain the intricate pattern. The old minister paid the closest attention, so that he could tell it all to the Emperor. And he did.
The Emperor sent another trustworthy official to see how soon the fabric would be ready. The same thing happened to him. He looked and looked, but as there was no fabric to see, he couldn't see any. "I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must be that I'm unworthy of my office. I mustn't let anyone find out." He told the Emperor the visit was spellbinding.
The Emperor wanted to see the cloth for himself while it was still in the looms. With his advisors, including the two officials who had already gone there, he went to see the two swindlers. He found them weaving with all their might, but without a thread in their looms. “Just look, Your Majesty!" They pointed to the empty looms, and each advisor supposed that the others could see the stuff. "What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can't see anything. Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the Emperor?” But he said, “Oh! It's very pretty," He would not admit he could see nothing.
The men stared and stared, but no one saw anything. They all raved at its beauty. They advised the Emperor to wear clothes made of this wonderful cloth to a procession he was soon to lead, and he agreed. The fake weavers toiled all night and then said, "The Emperor's new clothes are ready." The Emperor came and undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put his new clothes on him, one garment after another. "How well your Majesty's new clothes look! It is a magnificent outfit."
The Emperor turned for one last look in the mirror. "It is a remarkable fit, isn't it?" The noblemen who were to carry his train pretended to hold it high. They didn't dare admit they had nothing to hold. So off went the Emperor in procession under his splendid canopy. Everyone in the streets said, "Oh, how fine are the Emperor's new clothes!" Nobody would confess that they couldn't see anything for that would prove that they were either unfit for their position or a fool.
"But he hasn't got anything on," a little child said. Then people began whispering to each other what the child said. "But he hasn't got anything on!" the whole town cried out at last. The Emperor shivered, for he suspected they were right. But he thought, "This procession has got to go on." So he walked more proudly than ever, as his noblemen held high the train that wasn't there at all.
Collective denial. Pluralistic ignorance. Social hypocrisy. Let’s pretend nothing’s wrong. Even if it’s the last thing we do.
|
Smith, F. Lewis. "Views and Viewpoints" in The McDuffie Progress Newspaper. Thomson, Georgia.
|
