Europe is on the verge of war, but Germany is talking about sweaters and the correct form of address for Annalena Baerbock. But dealing with supposed superficialities is deeply human – and can give politicians points of reference.
The physics of the public sphere sometimes seem insane: the darker the situation, the more mundane the topics of conversation. This week we debated clothing items, abortion-themed dance routines, and a massive Russian table. But why?
In any case, it is also due to a lack of knowledge elsewhere: Nobody really knows what is on Vladimir Putin’s mind and we know even less what makes the new Chancellor tick. At the fireplace, Olaf Scholz has his host Joe Biden threaten to pull out of the North Sea pipeline Nord Stream 2, but he himself avoids the word as if it were “Candyman” in the horror story of the same name: Anyone who speaks his name five times will be hit by a hooked monster . Instead, Scholz says: “Yes, what Joe says!” And nods sluggishly.
Therefore, the public looked for a more tangible, more human, more cuddly topic: his sweater. Scholz wore it, you probably saw it, on his flight to Washington and the two laws of digital communication physics immediately took effect: First, people made fun of it, over and over and over again. Secondly, people were outraged at this making fun of people. “We don’t have anything more important to talk about,” was the tenor of those meta-critics, sometimes mixed with humaneness (“it’s comfortable!”) or, for advanced users, with connoisseurship (“That’s how it is on long-haul flights!”).
Glass bead game for fools
Similarly superficially, parts of the public followed an interview on Annalena Baerbock’s trip to Ukraine. The Foreign Minister was there in a protective vest and helmet. And although the minister seemed so determined, as if she were about to hoist a machine gun onto the carriage herself, a journalist from the “Tagesspiegel” said she could see that the “young lady” felt “uncomfortable” in the situation.
Which raises all sorts of questions, but above all: Why does the journalist sound like one Advertisement for women’s gold? In any case, the excitement was great, feminist outrage, a lot of dismay, hashtags (“#diesjungedame”), the usual Internet thing.
The nonsense went too far for the “Welt” journalist Robin Alexander, his real objection: the excitement about “this young lady”. “no discourse, but a glass bead game for stupid people”. In fact, the colleague from the “Tagesspiegel” had said clever things, but no one was listening anymore. So are we all stupid? Is the guaranteed non-discriminatory approach more important to us than peace in Europe?
The tangible stupid displaces the complex important
It’s a law: The tangible stupid displaces the complex important. The FDP also demonstrated this this week. The party was happy to finally get the ban on advertising abortion out of the law books. rightly so! This paragraph leads to grotesque criminal convictions. A doctor, blackened by an anti-abortionist, now has a criminal record – because she provided information about abortions on a boring PDF on her website and at the same time about her achievements as a doctor. The paragraph is a speech ban par excellence!
But some young Liberal MPs had gotten so carried away with their newly acquired legislative power that they danced through a yellow tunnel in sunglasses and made “head off” gestures on their way to the vote – and all that as a video on the Internet fired. Even if the FDP MP Kristine Lütke afterwards showed insight: stupid. And tragic: Because that should have been the first big point of all liberal-oriented right-wing politicians, especially the Federal Minister of Justice Marco Buschmann. He will have put a biting stick in the drawer for the future. You can do the right thing and say the wrong thing.
It’s the people, not the internet
Why are we captivated by banalities like dancing, military outfits and sweaters? They are, and there is a nice English term for that, relatable. The term is translated as “understandable” or “assignable”, but has cult status, especially in the American-speaking world. You write “relatable” under anything you have an immediate, emotional, almost visceral relationship with – that is, if you feel it. Can you say that about the Ukraine crisis? From Section 219a of the Criminal Code? Or Nord Stream 2?
The determined face of the murmuring Chancellor: Baerbock at the Ukrainian contact line.
(Photo: imago images/photothek)
It’s human to engage in jokes and comments about the glaring and obvious. This has nothing to do with the much scolded Internet – just listen to any conversation in the corner pub or at the water dispenser. The Internet accelerates and amplifies mechanisms that govern every ordinary conversation. The “relatable” factor not only leads to accidents, it is also an opportunity for communication professionals.
Baerbock, for example, was the determined face of the murmuring Olaf Scholz: the martial images in protective vest and helmet are useful to her and the traffic light, she even spoke of a former “holiday resort” when visiting a war-damaged village – and we all know holidays! That was a point for the traffic light, incidentally without Baerbock deciding anything substantial or promising the Ukrainians much more than brave fingers crossed. This is the kind of emotional communication that Scholz so categorically rejects.
One table, one Putin, one message
Putin also communicates “relatably”. Hardly anyone in Germany knows the content of the Minsk Convention, its interpretation under international law and can assess whether Russia or NATO violated these rules. But everyone, absolutely every single person, knows what an uncomfortable dinner party feels like. Therefore, anyone can interpret Putin’s meeting with French President Emmanuel Macron. The gigantic table between the politicians is a cliché from films: the space between quarreling people, as seen in Batman or American Beauty, for example. This is the not very subtle visual language of a man who, if necessary, jumps half-naked on a horse to demonstrate his power. Putin is anti-Scholz.
Putin’s table and Baerbock’s waistcoat on the one hand, and Olaf’s sweater and the liberal abortion dance on the other hand, distinguish one thing: the conscious decision. With power inevitably comes responsibility for visual communication. One may curse these mechanisms and compulsions, but, as is well known, “one cannot not communicate” (Paul Watzlawick).
Scholz also has to face this truth. The fact that his outfit has been observed more closely since he was elected chancellor shouldn’t really surprise him. Barack Obama’s sand-colored suit generated enough criticism for its own Wikipedia entry in 2014. After all, Olaf’s sweater doesn’t have one yet – and on the return flight Scholz wore a shirt.