Last week, the Trump administration immediately defended the fatal shooting of Renee Good in Minneapolis, insisting that the ICE officer who shot her acted in self-defense after she had tried to run him down. That same night, the city’s mayor, Jacob Frey, replied to the administration’s claims: “Having seen the video myself, I want to tell everybody directly, that is bullshit.”

Frey’s language shocked some Americans, but perhaps reminded others of the word’s philosophical lineage. Last year marked the 25th anniversary of the publication of Harry Frankfurt’s On Bullshit, which became a surprise bestseller, blasting past Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink and Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner’s Freakonomics to the top of the Times nonfiction list. But the Gray Lady spelled the title as On Bull—-, which exemplified, as yet another philosopher wryly noted, “what Frankfurt has castigated in his text.”

“One of the most salient features of our culture,” Frankfurt warns at the start of the book, “is that there is so much bullshit.” But the philosopher, whose book was published before the explosions of the internet, social platforms, AI, and Donald Trump descending the escalator at Trump Tower, had no idea just how much more bullshit could fill the world.

Yet, in light of events in Minneapolis, Frankfurt’s exploration of bullshit has now become, quite literally, deadly relevant. Frankfurt observes that the liar and truth-teller have something in common: Both acknowledge the existence of truth. The former, who tries to hide it, along with the latter who seeks to state it, recognize that truths abound in the world.

Not so, though, for the bullshitter, who simply ignores what is and is not true. He does not, as Frankfurter writes, simply “reject the authority of the truth, as the liar does, and oppose himself to it. He pays no attention to it at all.”

This leads to the heart of our present predicament. “The one thing the bullshitter does hide,” he remarks, “is that the truth values of her statements are of no central interests to her.” For this reason, Frankfurt concludes, “bullshit is a greater enemy of the truth than lies are.”

This claim should give us pause. After all, we honor those mythic figures who never tell a lie, be it George Washington or Horton the elephant. At the same time, we are shocked by those who honor Machiavelli, who famously advised the prince to “be a great liar,” observing that “a deceitful man will always find plenty ready to be deceived.”

Frankfurt salvages the reputation of the Machiavellian liar, reminding us that liars at least understand they are lying. In turn, this means they understand that there are truths hidden behind the lies. This is unfortunate, but not unexpected; as Mark Twain quipped, “Truth is the most precious thing we have. Economize it.”

Bullshitters are another matter altogether. In fact, they are truly dark matter because such people are ignorant of or indifferent to truth. Standing behind a podium in the White House press room or in front of ICE agents while wearing a 50-gallon cowboy hat, such individuals, Frankfurt explains, launch unhesitatingly into “a description of a certain state of affairs without genuinely submitting to the constraints which the endeavor to provide an accurate representation of reality imposes.”

This frees them from submitting to the constraints that a common understanding of morality imposes on us. In terms of foreign policy, Trump summarized this new standard of morality in his marathon interview with the Times last week. When asked if he recognized any limits on his use of power on the world stage, he replied, “Yeah, there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”

The same worldview is now on display in the aftermath of the murder of Renee Good. The sole constraint on the behavior of the administration and its agents are their own minds — minds that, to paraphrase John Milton, are their own places, busy turning reality into a hell of their own making.

The funny thing about bullshitters is that they might just as easily utter a truth as a lie. Trump displayed such inadvertent truth-telling during his press conference following the attack on Venezuela, when time and again he emphasized its rationale. It was not to bring democracy, liberty and prosperity to the country, but instead to bring oil out of Venezuela and to him. But he does not care when he happens to stumble across a truth. “It is just this lack of connection to a concern with truth,” writes Frankfurt, “this indifference to how things really are, that I regard as the essence of bullshit.”

It is tempting to say that when Frankfurt’s book was published in 2005, we had a glimpse, thanks to George W. Bush’s invasion of Iraq, of the real-world consequences of bullshitting. My guess, though, is that Dubya and his cabinet still recognized and, in a way, valued truth. (Consider Dick Cheney’s deathbed denunciation of Donald Trump.)

But those days now seem halcyon compared to the hell we now face, one where both epistemological and moral truths have been tossed into the woodchipper. Perhaps one step we can take to resist this state of affairs is, like Mayor Frey and Harry Frankfurt, to start calling the Trump administration’s lies what they really are.

 

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