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Ellen DeGeneres, George W. Bush, and the Limits of Unconditional Kindness

For decades, DeGeneres has been the sunny representative for a brighter world we might all live in if we were kinder to one another. But that imagined utopia seems increasingly out of touch with reality
Ellen DeGeneres Laura Bush and George W. Bush
Photos from Getty Images.

In her latest stand-up special, Relatable, Ellen DeGeneres spends around an hour telling her audience just how different her life is from theirs. The bathrooms she visits have attendants, she says; while telling a joke about emotional-support animals, she quips, “10B; does the plane go back that far? I‘ve never been back there.” But fame, she admits, comes with drawbacks too: “When you do something stupid, you’re just a person someone saw doing something stupid,” she says. “When I do something stupid, it’s a story.”

That joke has come to mind for me twice this year. The first time: when DeGeneres groused with Kevin Hart over the firestorm that erupted when he refused to apologize for his past homophobic humor and eventually relinquished the job of Oscar host. “There are so many haters out there,” DeGeneres told Hart in January. “Whatever’s going on on the internet, don’t pay attention to them; that’s a small group of people being very, very loud. We are a huge group of people who love you and want to see you host the Oscars.”

The second time was on Tuesday when she waved away criticism for her friendly hangout with George W. Bush—the man whose résumé includes the invasion of Iraq and the botched federal response to Hurricane Katrina. Speaking before her talk show audience, DeGeneres said, “Here’s the thing: I’m friends with George Bush. In fact, I’m friends with a lot of people who don’t share the same beliefs that I have. We’re all different, and I think that we’ve forgotten that that’s okay.... Just because I don’t agree with someone on everything doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna be friends with them. When I say, ‘Be kind to one another,’ I don’t mean only the people that think the same way that you do. I mean be kind to everyone. It doesn’t matter.”

DeGeneres is not the first celebrity to aid Bush’s postpresidency rebrand. The list also includes Michelle Obama, whose friendly relationship with the former president has proven to be one of the decade’s biggest surprises, and Jimmy Kimmel, who in 2017 welcomed Bush to his show to gab about his favorite new hobby: painting. But there’s something especially on-brand about DeGeneres’s plea for unconditional kindness; she’s made her name as a bubbly talk show host slash celebrity whisperer who can befriend just about anyone. But the continued backlash against DeGeneres—even after her address—is also a sign that such a brand is incompatible with reality. Ellen has been a towering presence on the talk show scene for a reason; for millions of viewers across America, DeGeneres and her show’s sparkling set represent a sunny alternate reality—one in which everyone is fun and nice and happy to dance and play games. It’s a simulated apolitical utopia, one that seems to reflect DeGeneres’s belief that kindness is the most important virtue of all—one that should trump all else.

There’s a kind of paradox to DeGeneres’s public persona. As she notes in her special, her success is, in many ways, hard-won. After coming out in 1997, DeGeneres lost her show, as well as countless friends and supporters. Delivering a farcical commercial for homosexuality during Relatable, DeGeneres said: “Side effects may include loss of friends, loss of family, unemployment.” Since then, however, DeGeneres has become one of America’s most beloved celebrities—and a de facto spokesperson for the LGBTQ+ community, given that until relatively recently, she was one of its most visible members. Whether or not DeGeneres should be that person is not important; for many Americans, she is and might always be. According to Forbes, DeGeneres was also the 15th-highest-paid celebrity last year, pulling in $87.5 million—an income that, by her own admission in Relatable, means her existence is simply incomparable to those of the audience members who fill seats to watch her.

It’s true that in the video clip that circulated over the weekend, both DeGeneres and Bush were smiling, having a good time, being kind. For some of DeGeneres’s fans—including one whose tweet she quoted in her monologue—the sight represented precisely the values she’s long espoused. In that clip, DeGeneres seems to hope we will see unity—a representation of what we could achieve if we put aside our differences and recognize our shared humanity. But how deep does this unity run? What are the parameters of the kindness we should all practice?

After running on a platform of “compassionate conservatism,” President Bush went on to oppose gay marriage, nominate Supreme Court justices who were instrumental in 2010’s disastrous Citizens United v. FEC ruling, and choose a FEMA head who allowed thousands of New Orleans residents to languish in the Superdome without adequate food or water. For millions of people, the Bush era was not one of compassion or kindness.

Throughout her address, DeGeneres reduced this history to a difference in “beliefs.” She compared their would-be tension to that shared between Cowboys and Packers fans—or those who enjoy wearing fur coats and those who oppose them. But when one person has historically believed other people should not have the same basic rights as another, it’s hard to treat these differences as benign—especially when that person once exercised their power to help make their beliefs a reality.

The timing of all this is coincidentally poignant. This week, the Supreme Court began considering Altitude Express Inc. v. Zarda, Bostock v. Clayton County, and R.G. & G.R. Harris Funeral Homes v. EEOC, in which it will rule on crucial protections for LGBTQ+ people in the workplace. Although DeGeneres once faced unemployment due to her sexuality, her fame guarantees she will probably never face such a problem again, or face financial strife. That’s a level of security most LGBTQ+ people simply do not have, especially outside of Hollywood.

For many young queer people growing up in the ’90s, DeGeneres was a rare beacon of hope—even as hard-core conservatives branded her “Ellen DeGenerate” and boycotted stores that hired her for Christmas campaigns. That impact will always remain. But it’s now hard to think of any message less compatible with our era than “it doesn’t matter” what someone stands for.

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