Everything is Political

Daniel Kassl
6 min readSep 5, 2020

At the beginning of this pandemic, and to my chagrin, I stumbled across lots of posts on Facebook about how we should avoid politicizing COVID-19. On Twitter, users lambast sports journalists for expressing their views on the Trump Administration, insisting that politics be completely separate from sports. Surely these posts normally originate from good intentions, a la “let’s manage this pandemic effectively without the bickering and disagreement that are so characteristic of American political discourse”, or more simply, “let’s just enjoy the ballgame”. But they also make an implicit but nonetheless sweeping claim — that it’s possible for something to be separate from politics. What does it mean for something to be political, and is it really possible for something to be strictly apolitical? And if that is possible, why is it so desirable to Americans?

Former ESPN CEO John Skipper, who wrote in a 2017 memo that “ESPN is about sports” and is “not a political organization”. (Photo courtesy of Bleacher Report)

To answer this question, we must think critically about our conception of the word political. Anyone who might Google the word’s definition will find Oxford’s primary definition: “relating to the government or the public affairs of a country.” Of course, I wouldn’t be writing if this definition were completely satisfying to me.

Yes, political and politics call to mind government, and more specific to our case, the American government. But it has a more general meaning, which I derive from my brief and traumatizing ventures into Aristotle (whom, as a side note, I despise for being misogynistic and racist, not to mention difficult to read and horribly boring). In the Politics, he makes a very important point germane to this discussion. Even though politics originates from the Greek root polis, meaning “city” (see, for instance, metropolis), Aristotle argues that politics begins in the family among members of the same household, and that the natural progression from the family is to a city-state; “the impulse toward this sort of association is in all people by nature”. This means that my frequent scuffles with my mother are actually political interactions, which is probably not at all shocking to her.

But who cares about Aristotle? Etymology can sometimes be interesting but is mostly meaningless when it comes to understanding colloquialisms like we’re trying to do here. I invoke Aristotle because after acknowledging his conception of politics, it’s easy to see arguments and conflict in general as political. Two or more individuals disagree or are at odds, at least one is (or perhaps all of them are) wrong, and one side wants to prove to the other that it is correct — a sort of jockeying for rhetorical power.

If this is true, then politics is about decision making and inherently involves disagreement. Those two things are omnipresent in our lives. Again, I invoke my mother. What’s for dinner, when we’re eating, who’s driving — these all are joint decisions that often inspire disagreement and as such are political. Hence, family politics!

Let’s take a step back. Sure, this different conception of the political helps us make sense of an abstract, hackneyed term. But that isn’t entirely necessary to understand how strange it is that Americans so closely guard certain aspects of our daily lives — namely sports and the coronavirus — that are political in the sense that they involve decision making, but also because they are inherently and historically wrapped in political ideology.

In the realm of sports, myriad examples from history make the case that sports involve left-versus-right ideology. Most rightly view the integration of Major League Baseball, for instance, as an important inflection point in the history of civil rights in the United States. Likewise, the famous photo of Tommie Smith and John Carlos raising their fists in a Black power salute during the 1968 Mexico City Olympics further proves the point that sports do not and cannot happen in a vacuum. (I first learned of this photo from Dave Zirin, a political sportswriter (!) with a connection to my university.) An examination of the cultural history of the United States reveals that moments like these are pivotal. Culture is political, and politics is part of our culture.

Tommie Smith (center) and John Carlos (right) raise their fists in solidarity at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics.

Take the recent strikes (yes: strikes, not boycotts) by professional athletes as yet another example. NBA players initiated the strike in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement amidst the continuing, senseless police violence against unarmed Black people. For many Black players, this is an expression of their racial identity. To demand that sports and politics never intersect, in this case, is to demand that these players divest themselves from their Blackness once they step onto the court.

Next, coronavirus. The crux of the politics of COVID is personal responsibility. Who bears the burden for protecting Americans from the virus? What role and rights does the individual have, especially vis-à-vis the government’s response to the pandemic? Mask-wearing, of course, comes to mind. Despite its proven effectiveness in limiting the spread of COVID-19, Americans still cling to a broken, contorted conception of liberty and freedom as an excuse to put those around them in danger by refusing to wear a mask. The frustrating tire-kicking in Congress surrounding a second major stimulus package to combat the deepening recession provokes the broader question of how extensive a role the welfare state should have in promoting public health, notably as the virus exacerbates existing social and economic inequality. Even Pres. Trump’s thinly-veiled attempt to dismantle Social Security by imposing a payroll tax holiday under the guise of tax relief pushes the narrative by the right that individuals should be wholly responsible for their own retirement and that the government should not have a role. With COVID-19, then, we see the interplay between certain broader ideological questions and the most salient event of our lifetimes

It’s clear, then, that after digging deeper into these allegedly apolitical realms of our lives, one can uncover numerous intersections with politics. So what’s the hurry to dismiss politics in these certain realms? Professional sports and COVID-19 are just two examples, but you might think of the United States Postal Service, too. The truth is that Americans are significantly more conservative than Europeans. Pew finds that, when asked whether “freedom to pursue life’s goals without state interference” or “state guarantees [that] nobody is in need” is more important, a majority (58%) of Americans unsurprisingly favored the former. This is in stark contrast to other major European nations; majorities in Britain, Germany, France, and Spain prefer the latter (55%, 62%, 64%, and 67%, respectively).

America’s exceptional conservatism among western democracies is relevant to this discussion if we define politics essentially as disagreement and conflict over power. Edmund Burke, the British “Father of Conservatism” known for his Reflections on the Revolution in France in which he decried the revolution as a slippery slope into anarchy, valued tradition over all else. It is not controversial to say that conservatism in the 21st century similarly values continuity over change, tradition over modernization.

By aiming to “keep politics out of sports”, COVID, the USPS, and whatever else, the conservative wing of America aims to prevent conflict, debate, and change. The apparent goal to limit politics, whatever that means, to discussions of public policy is exclusive in that the most meaningful and obvious means to change public policy is through electoral institutions, which have historically blocked participation by people who are not white (or male, for that matter). This notion dovetails with the current assault by the Trump Administration on the USPS and vote-by-mail, which are blatant attempts at voter suppression. So in the face of this voter suppression — and, more broadly, the effort to limit what is seen as “political” — Americans are utilizing traditionally “apolitical” avenues to position themselves as agents of change in nontraditional (but, as we’ve seen, not uncharted) environments, like in professional sports.

United States Postmaster General Louis DeJoy, a Trump appointee. (Photo courtesy of CNN)

All it takes to see this is to dig a little deeper into current events and reject completely the idea that anything can or should be apolitical. We must remember that at the end of the day professional athletes are in fact employees who sell their labor to (white) franchise owners. Likewise, we must recognize that COVID-19 afflicts Black and Latinx communities at a much greater magnitude than white communities, and that the USPS’s design is to lessen some of the inequality between rural and urban America. In doing so, we broaden the political arena such that historically oppressed voices become paramount to change and progress.

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Daniel Kassl

B.A. in political science, The George Washington University, 2021. I read and write about capitalism, labor, inequality, political theory, and historiography.