It's certainly a match made in hell: Anti-vaccination conspiracy theorist Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has announced that he's considering New York Jets quarterback Aaron Rodgers to be his running mate for his, uh, "presidential" campaign. Scare quotes because there's little reason to believe Kennedy thinks he can even get on the ballot as an independent candidate in all 50 states, much less that he can win. Instead, the goal here appears to be twofold: First, to gin up interest and therefore money for Kennedy's conspiracy theory empire. Second, to siphon off enough votes from President Joe Biden to throw the election to Donald Trump. Unsurprisingly, the Republican-affiliated donors funding Kennedy's campaign have a laser-like focus on getting his name on ballots in swing states, while ignoring deep red or blue states where his presence won't affect the outcome.
When I first saw Kennedy's hype around a potential Rodgers pick, I, with much eye-rolling, read the story to my partner. He responded, "Ugh, everyone hates Aaron Rodgers." To which I said, "No, most people hate him," and he, with a heavy sigh, agreed. Rodgers, whose outstanding career and movie star-good looks, was once a popular enough figure to be considered as a replacement for Alex Trebek on "Jeopardy!" But as he's dived deeper into the world of conspiracy theories and anti-vaccine vitriol, the majority of Americans are sensible enough to be grossed out by Rodgers.
But there's one group that Rodgers, like Kennedy, does appeal to: insecure men, especially younger ones, who look both to fantasies of body-building and to a love of "alternative facts" to soothe their fears of inadequacy. As Natalia Mehlman Petrzela and Ilyse Hogue wrote in a recent op-ed at MSNBC, Kennedy presents himself as an aspirational figure with "prestigious degrees, a meaningful career, a mansion in Beverly Hills," and, of course, "a glamorous, accomplished wife who stands behind him ." The 70-year-old Kennedy also posts shirtless body-building videos online. His fans may have boring jobs, soft tummies and women who swipe left on their dating app profiles, but by backing Kennedy, they can feel a piece of the fantasy.
Rodgers, of course, offers even more, because, unlike Kennedy, he's young, actually an elite athlete, and possesses real charisma that's elusive to the squinty-eyed weirdo that Kennedy has become. But what is really crucial to their appeal is that both men, despite being unbelievably fortunate in life, carry giant chips on their shoulders. They are forever angry that they aren't getting the levels of adoration they believe they are due. This endears them to their aggrieved male audiences, who take it as proof that the white man in America just can't catch a break.
Kennedy's cynical hustle was on full display on Fox News Wednesday night, claiming that it's "our appeal is to young people" and that Rodgers is "battle-tested" because "[h]e’s been hammered by the press" due to supposedly having a "skepticism toward authority." Kennedy also praised Rodger's body, saying, "He’s focused on his own health," which is a hat tip to the Joe Rogan crowd that wants to believe that lifting weights is a substitute for getting vaccinated.
Of course, Rodgers is not a "critical thinker," as Kennedy said. Like Kennedy, he's a conspiracy theorist. Conspiracy theories are a lazy person's intellectualism. They make a person feel smart without actually having to put in the hard work of learning things and growing. Rogan's asinine podcast is a good example of the form. Episodes are hours of mostly men who know almost nothing talking out of their asses. Actually knowing stuff takes hard work. Blowing smoke about how you have superior knowledge to the "sheeple" because you heard a conspiracy theory on the internet? That's a cheap thrill.
Nor is Rodgers persecuted. Like Kennedy, his problems are entirely of his own making. No one forced Rodgers to spread vaccine disinformation. No one asked him to indulge the repulsive lies about the Sandy Hook shooting, as he reportedly did. (Rodgers issued a semi-denial that allows that shooting did happen, but did not deny other conspiracy theories, such as that the government did it.) No one required Rodgers to publicly insinuate, without a single shred of merit, that late night host Jimmy Kimmel is a sex criminal.
It's that last story that really cuts to the heart of how men like Kennedy and Rodgers appeal to the base impulses of insecure men. Kimmel has publicly mocked Rodgers for his anti-vaccination nonsense, which Rodgers brought on himself, by using his celebrity to promote dangerous ideas that literally kill people. Instead of taking his lumps like a big boy, however, Rodgers had a tantrum. Worse, as Kimmel pointed out, he spread yet another lie that is dangerous. Heaven forbid someone actually believes Rodgers, because they might feel compelled to hurt Kimmel or his family.
Just as conspiracy theories are fake-smarts for the lazy, bullying is fake-courage for cowards. Especially this kind of bullying Rodgers is engaging in, where he slithers away from direct conflict with Kimmel — which he'd fail at — and instead petulantly tries to inflict harm from afar.
I found much to agree with in the MSNBC op-ed by Petrzela and Hogue, but frankly, they are far too forgiving of the young men that are drawn to Kennedy's toxic masculinity grift, attributing young men's "disaffection" to "ongoing war, increasing inequality, and impending climate catastrophe." After all, most young people, especially women, face similar challenges, but they don't go all-in on anti-vaccination or other conspiracy theories. Petrzela and Hogue showcase a common urge people have when talking about the victims of frauds. Because they are being exploited, we want to cast the marks in a sympathetic light.
But the sad truth is that just because Rodgers and Kennedy are villains doesn't make their victims innocent. Like most con artists, these two manipulate not the good intentions of their marks, but their ugliest instincts. Certainly, there's no shame in having feelings of insecurity, which most people feel at times. But young men are being told to combat that feeling with narcissism, laziness, and entitlement. To play the victim of poorly defined "elites" — a word that Kennedy loves to use — while worshipping actual elites like Kennedy or Rodgers. And to align themselves with these elites, whose main gripe is that their privileged existence doesn't stop others from criticizing the terrible and false things they say.
In this, these two resemble Donald Trump, who still gets the lion's share of male voters who are largely mad that other people aren't kissing their asses hard enough. The Kennedy crowd does seem to veer younger, suggesting part of it is they don't want to be associated with the embarrassing fanny pack Boomer crowds that fill up Trump rallies. They also swoon at Kennedy's rhetoric about how he "defies the left-right division." That sort of empty rhetoric flatters the egos of people who want to feel like rebels without actually doing the hard work of resisting real injustice — especially if doing so means confronting your own prejudices.
This does suggest, however, that Kennedy's candidacy — which is being propped up by actual elites who want him to be a spoiler for Trump — may backfire. He could certainly get some disaffected young voters who don't want to vote for Biden, especially if they aren't paying close attention to who Kennedy actually is. But his message closely hews to the sense of aggrieved entitlement that defines Trump's candidacy. He may very well end up competing not with Biden, but with Trump for the votes of angry young men who are big mad about Taylor Swift and the COVID vaccines.
