Why Don't You Stop Complaining?

An eloquent, convincing writer is supposed to incite feelings of passion, pity and respect in his readers. Conversely, William F. Buckley Jr., in his essay “Why Don’t We Complain,” manages to evoke annoyance, exasperation and disgust through his self-pitying soliloquy on the subject of American “passive compliance.” Buckley undermines his own potentially effective argument by adapting a tone of overwhelming self-admiration, and by attempting to support his ideas with thoroughly unconvincing evidence. 

            William Buckley has an arrogant and distinctly unappealing view of himself as the savior of the modern American public, the courageous soul who will rescue citizens from complacency and discomfort. All other Americans are hopelessly accepting, scared into silence, a “supine breed” who “submit to… irrational vexations.” Buckley portrays himself as the contrast to this national epidemic, claiming that he can “summon the courage to complain,” as if this willingness to whine about trivial matters make him somehow stronger or more insightful. This inflated sense of self harms Buckley’s reliability as a narrator because his Platonic conception leads him to view his own actions through a skewed, heroic lens. Instead of establishing his authority on the subject of modern complacency, Buckley belittles the general population and presents an indulgently flattering portrayal of himself, in the process alienating himself from the reader.

            Although Buckley thinks of himself as superior to the majority of the public, he often adheres to the cultural norm, and yet he still attempts to utilize these instances to strengthen his argument. For example, instead of admitting culpability for his reluctance to report an unfocused movie screen, he places blame on his fellow movie goers who were “expecting someone else to take the initiative in going back to speak to the manager.” Meanwhile, Buckley himself refused to address the issue because he was sitting towards the front and assumed that someone else more conveniently situated would complain, consequently aligning himself with the general mindset of the public. Furthermore, the events he cites as “irrational vexations” are so trivial that they seem comical; an overly warm train car; a “just out of focus” movie screen; a tardy glass of milk; and other similarly ridiculous complaints. Buckley renders his argument ineffectual by his flimsy evidentiary support, as well as his admission that he is not especially different from the rest of the American society that he disparages so thoroughly.

            Buckley’s assessment of the general public may be entirely valid. Maybe Americans have become lazy and content, shying away from uncomfortable encounters instead of addressing nuisances, because we have become accustomed to instant gratification and small amounts of work for a large reward. Maybe the American spirit of hard work and ingenuity is dead, and maybe the American public has killed it. Regardless, Buckley’s frustratingly smug delivery of his opinions, coupled with the ridiculous evidence given to support his claims, create an argument that is at once obnoxious and questionable: ultimately, an argument that is ineffective.