I don't think you sent this to me personally, but it has been sent to me. I still like it quite a bit. I reread it now to make sure of that!
I think your summary (and additional analysis) is pretty accurate. I think I would add a few things:
- He's not being evil in every post. Some of the posts are OK.
- [Elizabeth Sandifer observes this.] He tends to compare a bad argument to a very bad argument, and he's usually willing to invite snark or ridicule.
There's a crunchy systemic thing I want to add. I'm sure Elizabeth Sandifer gets this, it's just not rhetorically spotlit in her post --
A lot of people who analyze Scott Alexander have difficulty assigning emotional needs to his viewers. Scott Alexander decides to align himself with Gamergate supporters in his feminism post: Gamergate isn't a thing you do when you're in a psychologically normal place.
An old Startup Guy proverb says that you should "sell painkillers, not vitamins" -- you want people to lurch for your thing when they're doing badly because you're the only thing that will actually solve their problem. When people treat Scott Alexander's viewers as if they're smug, psychologically healthy startup twits, they typically take his viewers' engagement with Scott Alexander and make it into this supererogatory thing that his audience could give up or substitute at any time. His influence by this account is vitamin-like.
This makes the tech narcissists seem oddly stronger than normal people, who are totally distorted by their need for approval. We kind of treat them like permanent twisted reflections of normal people and therefore act as if there's no need for funhouse mirrors to distort them. We make the even more fundamental error of treating them like they know who they are.
This is how I think it actually works: the narcissists you meet are not completely different from you. They're not unmoored from ethics or extremely sadistic. They're often extremely ambivalent -- there's a clash of attitudes in their heads that prevents them from taking all the contradictory feelings inside them and reifying them as an actual opinion.
From what I can tell, Scott is actually extremely effective at solving the problem of "temporarily feeling like a horrible person." He's specifically good at performing virtue and kindness when advocating for especially horrible views. He's good at making the thing you wanted to do anyway feel like the difficult last resort in a field of bad options.
I'll admit -- as a person with these traits, this is another place where the basis for my analysis seems completely obvious to me, yet I see an endless dogpile of nerds who seem as if they willfully do not engage with it. I assume they thought of it, find it convincing on some level and therefore they make significant effort to repress it. If I'm going to be conceited for a moment, though, this is probably simultaneously expecting too much intelligence and too much conventionally narcissistic behavior from my audience, who are, demographically, the same people who thought Scott was brilliant in the first place.
You've pegged me OK! I know how I want to feel about my writing. Well, wanting it hasn't made it happen. Telling myself "Well, this is the emotion I should have" hasn't changed the emotions I do have. Telling myself "Time to not eat" doesn't make me starve less.
In the past I've tried to mutilate the impulse out of my own brain, but I think it mostly made me hate myself. Right now I'm doing the experiment of admitting -- I'm probably going to crave adoration until I die -- and asking "OK, what happens next?"
On Scott -- as far as I can tell, Scott's playing a version of the "debate in good faith" game. The rules are that you only say things you believe, and when someone convinces you of something, you admit it.
Every philosopher in the world, good or bad, plays a version of this game. A third secret rule of this game is always implicit, taking the form of the answer to this question: "When do I become convinced of something?"
How Scott answers this question is clearly part of his success and a key commonality with his audience. Scott is clearly willing to state strong belief in things he has not thought very much about, and Scott is clearly unusually easy to convince. I assume that whatever rules are etched in his brain, similar rules are etched in his audience's brains.
Based on how he plays the game how he likes it, and other people move, and I don't move, the particular rules in his head clearly aren't the same ones in mine. Or at least I've decided not to be moved by this particular guy. I also think people say they've moved when they haven't, as a rhetorical strategy -- Marc Andreessen says he's just now becoming a Republican. Scott's commentors act as if they've just now considered that eugenics might be the answer.
In other responses I've offered some opinions on why he would choose to play this particular game: I think the way he happens to play the game is a second-order phenomenon of "the extreme ambivalence of wanting to hold terrible social attitudes and strong belief in your own personal virtue at the same time." I think you observe this: "enabling psychiatrist [...] happy to overmedicate his patients" is a good figurative characterization.
(Actually, is it literally true? It feels like it would be invasive to check.)