Trump’s shamelessness, Shore argues, has immunized him against accountability by eroding collective standards of decency.

From Scholarship to Self-Preservation: When Teaching Fascism Becomes Living It

by ChatGPT-4o

The Guardian's interview with Marci Shore—Yale professor and specialist in the history of fascism—presents an emotionally raw and intellectually rigorous reflection on contemporary American politics through the lens of 20th-century totalitarian history. Shore’s decision to leave the United States for Canada, alongside her husband Timothy Snyder and fellow scholar Jason Stanley, was prompted by what she perceives as a collapse of democratic norms and an emergent authoritarianism under Donald Trump. Her warnings and observations offer a sobering, sometimes controversial, and deeply valuable contribution to the discourse on American democracy. This essay identifies and critiques the most surprising, controversial, and important claims from the interview.

1. Surprising Statements

a. “The lesson of 1933 is: you get out sooner rather than later.”
Shore’s comparison of present-day America to 1933 Germany is a jarring historical parallel. The year 1933 marked Hitler’s rise to power and the start of the Nazi dictatorship. Her invocation of that moment is meant as both a personal and public warning. The surprise lies in the gravity of the analogy—implying that leaving the U.S. is a morally prudent and historically informed act of self-preservation.

b. “I felt like this was the end of the world. I felt like something had happened that was just catastrophic on a world historical scale.”
Shore’s visceral reaction to Trump’s 2016 election—vomiting into a plastic bag in her office—is a deeply personal and unsettling image. It underscores not just political dismay but existential dread.

c. “My fear is we’re headed to civil war.”
This statement reveals the extent of Shore’s alarmism. While civil war is often evoked in political hyperbole, her matter-of-fact tone combined with references to America’s gun culture and normalization of political violence distinguishes it from casual rhetoric.

d. “Would I try to pull the mask off? Would I scream? Would I cry? Would I run away?”
Shore’s self-questioning about whether she would intervene if ICE agents kidnapped a student is a surprisingly vulnerable admission. It reveals the psychological toll of fear and the uncertain boundary between intellectual courage and physical bravery.

2. Controversial Statements

a. “We’re like people on the Titanic saying, ‘Our ship can’t sink.’”
This analogy criticizes the American faith in constitutional “checks and balances” as dangerously naive. Suggesting that democratic institutions are not inherently self-sustaining is a challenge to liberal orthodoxy and might be deemed alarmist or even unpatriotic by some.

b. “Dark fantasies are coming true.”
Framing the present as a fulfillment of historical nightmares places Trumpism in the realm of fascist mythology. Critics could argue that such language delegitimizes legitimate democratic outcomes or political disagreements by casting them as apocalyptic.

c. “People wanted this – and I don’t want to have anything to do with this.”
Shore expresses disgust with the American electorate who re-elected Trump. The implication that tens of millions of Americans are complicit in democratic backsliding is bound to inflame tensions. It flirts with a moral absolutism that eschews nuance in democratic society.

d. “It’s pure, naked transaction.”
Describing Trump’s and Putin’s political philosophies as devoid of moral vision and solely guided by personal advantage is a controversial reduction. While grounded in Shore’s study of “post-truth” politics, it denies any ideological coherence to populist movements.

e. “Direct them all to me. I’m the coward.”
This admission, while self-aware, might draw criticism for valorizing withdrawal over resistance. For some, especially those who cannot leave, her act might feel like abandonment.

3. Valuable Insights

a. “There is no such thing as a ship that can’t sink.”
This is perhaps the most profound historical lesson in the interview. Democracies are fragile. Shore’s message is that American exceptionalism—the belief in the country’s invulnerability to authoritarianism—is not only misguided but dangerous.

b. “The problem is not what’s hidden … it’s what we’ve normalized.”
This critique of performative opposition is astute. In an era of information saturation, moral shock is dulled not by concealment but by repetition. Trump’s shamelessness, Shore argues, has immunized him against accountability by eroding collective standards of decency.

c. “The arbitrariness of terror atomises people.”
This is a key theoretical contribution, echoing Hannah Arendt’s insights on totalitarianism. When oppression is unpredictable, solidarity dissolves. Shore’s concern is that fear undermines collective resistance and promotes individual self-preservation.

d. “Without a distinction between truth and lies, there is no grounding for a distinction between good and evil.”
This observation links epistemology with morality. It explains why misinformation is not just a technical problem, but a threat to ethical judgment and democratic governance.

e. “History teaches you not what will happen, but what can happen.”
This line is a nuanced antidote to both fatalism and optimism. It asserts the relevance of historical knowledge in anticipating possibilities without guaranteeing outcomes—a crucial mindset for political engagement in uncertain times.

Agreement and Disagreement

I strongly agree with Shore’s view that the normalization of political indecency and disregard for truth pose existential threats to democratic institutions. Her emphasis on the erosion of norms—rather than the mere presence of laws—echoes scholarly consensus on how democracies die (e.g., Levitsky and Ziblatt).

I also agree with her critique of the illusion of American exceptionalism. The belief that the U.S. is immune to tyranny is a complacent myth contradicted by both its own history (e.g., slavery, internment camps, COINTELPRO) and global trends.

However, I disagree with the deterministic tone suggesting civil war is imminent or inevitable. While the risk of political violence is real, framing it as the dominant trajectory may contribute to a self-fulfilling prophecy and paralyze civic engagement.

I also question her moral judgment of the electorate. While many Trump voters are indeed culpable for supporting authoritarian tendencies, others may be driven by economic despair, misinformation, or protest against establishment failure. A more empathetic and strategic approach may be required to address their grievances without surrendering core democratic values.

Lastly, while Shore’s decision to leave the U.S. is understandable, it raises ethical questions about academic responsibility. Can one claim solidarity with oppressed groups from a place of safety? Her self-awareness here is commendable, but her choice may still be seen as abandoning the fight.

Conclusion

Marci Shore’s reflections are deeply provocative, historically grounded, and emotionally honest. Her interview serves as both a warning and a case study in intellectual exile. The conversation challenges readers to think critically about the fragility of democracy, the psychology of authoritarianism, and the obligations of scholars in times of crisis. Whether one agrees or not with all of Shore’s interpretations, her voice adds an indispensable perspective to the urgent debate on the future of American democracy.