BOOK REVIEW : Chronicling the Annoying, Rampant Abuse of Victimhood : A NATION OF VICTIMS: The Decay of the American Character, <i> by Charles J. Sykes</i> , St. Martin’s Press $22.95; 276 pages

The Reagan-Bush years, as anyone who has gone near a bookstore in the past decade knows, brought forth numerous volumes intent on showing that the political and social upheaval of the 1960s and 1970s were counterproductive, if not tragic, for American culture.

Three titles immediately come to mind: the late Allan Bloom’s “The Closing of the American Mind,” Dinesh D’Souza’s “Illiberal Education,” and Peter Collier and David Horowitz’s “Destructive Generation.” These books are notable for their conservatism, of course, and for their condescension--a tone suggesting that the proper value system for the United States is not only self-evident but also dovetails, not surprisingly, with the authors’ personal value systems.

Although Charles Sykes, a journalist, has a lot in common with the writers just mentioned, “A Nation of Victims” turns out to be less vitriolic and better reasoned than most conservative polemics. That’s unexpected, considering the titles and provenance of his previous books--”Profscam” and “The Hollow Men,” both originally put out by right-wing publisher Regnery/Gateway--but it’s hard to disagree with Sykes that this country is overpopulated by those “eager to feel annoyed.” His argument, in a well-spoken nutshell, is: “A community of interdependent citizens has been displaced by a society of resentful, competing, and self-interested individuals who have dressed their private annoyances in the garb of victimism.”

Sykes makes his case quite well. He chronicles the growing abuse of victimhood--the embezzler who gets his job back by arguing that gambling is a handicap, the consistently tardy employee who claims to suffer from “chronic lateness syndrome,” the overweight man who files a discrimination complaint against McDonald’s for failing to install extra-large seats. He cites respected historical precedents: Alexis De Tocqueville’s view that Americans “are forever brooding over advantages they do not possess” and Lionel Trilling’s idea of a modern “adversary culture” that bases its identity on little besides opposition to the status quo.

He traces the idea of “victimism” in many forms: in the growing use of therapy, in the rights revolution, in the rise of what he calls “no-fault, no-pain” society. And he does all this with a certain amount of elan--writing that being a victim can mean “never having to say you’re sorry” and about a feminist who contends Isaac Newton’s physical laws could be called “Newton’s Rape Manual” (the scientific method developed in a sexist manner, you see).

“A Nation of Victims” is, in a word, credible--until you begin thinking about why so many people seek out the victim label these days. Sykes is entirely correct when he writes that “Victimism debilitates its practitioners by trapping them in a world of oppressive demons that they cannot, by definition, control” and that seeing oneself in such terms transforms one’s status as victim (here he quotes another critic) from “accident to essence,” but that’s not the whole story. The people who call themselves victims do so when they can’t get what they want any other way--when society deems them--actively or passively, fairly or unfairly--undeserving.

Sykes treads carefully on this point, noting that not every self-described victim is a whiner in disguise. He singles out the “genuinely handicapped”--those who “bear no responsibility for their condition and thus have a special and undeniable claim on society’s goodwill.” Sykes makes few other attempts to define “genuine” victimhood, however, for he knows full well--at least I hope he does--that it’s impossible to make rational, principled distinctions between “genuine” and “ungenuine” victims.

Many contemporary claims of victimhood, like those cited above, seem spurious on their face, but what about those cases in which people must renounce part of their very identity to participate in the American dream? The atheist, to cite a minor example, who is expected to say “under God” whenever he or she pledges allegiance to the flag? Sykes, who belongs to a group traditionally favored in the United States, seems unaware that many of his fellow citizens must compromise their beliefs so that he may follow his.

Much of the time, Sykes’ argument appears common-sensical and reasonable, but occasionally his personal preferences--let’s call them what they are, prejudices--become clear. In chronicling the “decay of the American character,” for example, he cites a study showing a precipitous decline between 1924 and 1988 in the number of mothers who wanted their children to develop “good manners,” “strict obedience” and “loyalty to church.” What hideous traits did the modern mothers hope to foster? “Independence” and “tolerance”--the latter being mentioned by just 6% of the mothers questioned in the earlier survey.

To many people this change represents progress, not decay--and it’s a change from which Sykes, ironically, has benefited, in that his dogmatic views continue to be tolerated. If he ever imagined himself to be outside the mainstream, or a member of a minority group, in the family-oriented, McCarthy-ridden 1950s, he might understand what lies at the heart of the victim movement.

Come to think of it, however, perhaps Sykes has been able to picture himself in victim’s shoes. Whatever else it may be, “A Nation of Victims” is also a victim’s lament--a lament for a lost, more perfect world in which Sykes, for one, would be more comfortable. He isn’t getting what he wants out of the United States--through no fault of his own, of course, so he writes three books detailing his complaints. Is he significantly different from those he mocks? I don’t think so. Sykes just refuses to admit that the screw has turned--that he has been displaced at the top of the totem pole, reduced to joining the “adversary culture” which, in theory, he disdains.