America, Are We Losing Ourselves in Politics?
If you know me, whether in real life, or from certain corners of the internet, it’s likely that you already know who I’m voting for in this year’s election. If you don’t, I’m happy to talk about it some time, if you care to. But that conversation is going to be one-on-one, over coffee, whether in-person, or virtually. Arguing about politics online, though I often make this mistake, is fruitless, and may very well be the most wasteful way that you and I have spent our time in the past few years. That said, I think it’s crucial to hear other perspectives, and I’m increasingly trying to be cautious of living in an echo chamber, so I welcome having my thought process challenged, at least to a certain degree. While we’re having coffee, keep in mind that the goal would mutual understanding under the umbrella of the respect that comes with friendship; don’t expect that you’re going to change my vote, and I will reciprocate likewise. But as precursor to any of those conversations, you should know that there will be other things to talk about. Because there are many, many other things we should be talking about. The thing is, friend, politics are not nearly as important as we’re making it. In fact, we’re all just a bit too obsessed over it, and we’re risking drawing indelible divisions and losing both our individual identities, and our status as a United nation.
Yes, politics are important. Well… not exactly politics, but rather the result of us, as citizens, selecting our government leaders through being well-informed about their qualifications for our votes… that is important.
Usually when citizens talk about “politics” we’re referring to the processes involved in campaigning and debating that are somewhat necessary evils that eventually arrive at the reality of governing, but are separate from the basic disciplines of how governing works, (or should work). Academically speaking, one could reasonably argue that “politics” can refer to all of that, and we could have a lengthy discussion if we wanted to about the line between “civics” and “politics”… but what I’m seeking to point out here is that, as important as these things are, you and I and your next door neighbor (assuming none of us makes our living from the political arena) are all prioritizing the wrong things if this is a central focus of our lives, and we need to draw the line between being active and responsible as citizens and losing ourselves entirely in it. Particularly as it pertains to national politics, this is what I think so many of us regular people put far too much emphasis on, involve ourselves too deeply in, and even obsess too much over, and the result is that we compromise our attention on other things that really matter, and I would suggest it opens us up to several risks:
We risk ignoring many other ways in which we can make a difference in our society.
There’s an often-repeated quote, usually attributed to Barney Frank, that purports: “Government is simply the name we give to the things we choose to do together.” I couldn’t disagree more with that definition, and I think this is a symptom of the obsession that now plagues us. Government is certainly irreplaceably necessary for certain things. But our society is composed of many different kinds of “things we choose to do together” among our communities, large and small, from civic organizations, to churches, clubs, even short-term gatherings such as festivals, concerts (remember those?), and united for common causes, whether in celebration, or in protest. There are tremendous opportunities for us to make a difference in the lives of other people, to commune with our fellow citizens, and to move our society in positive directions as a whole, through means other than government.
We risk asking the right questions to the wrong people.
But let’s not throw Barney Frank under the bus. You have to know when you ask people who specialize in government to solve a problem, that — pardon me if I’m overstating the obvious here — the answer is most likely going to involve government In some way. Can you fault them for that? Ask a botanist to solve financial problems and you’re likely to hear an answer that involves plants somehow. Maybe you’re asking the wrong person for answers? In Stranger Than Fiction (if you haven’t seen this 2006 film — you should, it’s brilliant — this may not make much sense), when Harold Crick goes to a literature professor to help him solve the problem of his impending (spoiler alert) literary-and-somehow-also-real death, his eventual answer is that he has to die.
It’s somehow simultaneously the most ridiculous example and the perfect illustration of this point — Professor Hilbert’s solution to the problem relies upon his expertise and leans upon his priorities… Harold has to die because it’s what’s best for literature. The guy he’s asking for help from is just not equipped to solve Harold’s actual, quite life-threatening problem (despite so poetically volunteering as a lifeguard on the side) and yet because Harold relies solely upon his solution, his fate is ostensibly sealed. Likewise, politicians are gonna give you political answers, because, let’s face it, that’s what they’re selling.
We risk oversimplifying our choices and falsely demonizing our neighbors.
The other danger of obsessing over politics is that we inevitably find ourselves falsely resorting to team thinking. Government business is not as simple as election campaigns would make it, and we’re all guilty of falling into the trap of believing election season hype about who the “good guys” and “bad guys” are. Political parties are a tool — for politicians — for consolidating power, but they shouldn’t become central to our personal loyalties — as citizens & voters — to such a degree that they become ingrained into our individual identities, and we consequentially make enemies of those around us, demonizing, and labeling one another over our choices. We’ve all seen this in the past few years (heck, the past few days), and I’m certainly guilty of it. (To avoid repeating myself throughout the remaining points, suffice it to say that I’m guilty of all of these… and that I’m writing this as much as a reminder to myself as anyone).
We risk misplacing our loyalties and losing our objectivity.
While an unhealthy obsession with politics can damage our relationships to others, it can also do great harm to our own ongoing perceptions and understanding. Politicians leverage their power in many ways, and citizens’ loyalty and patriotism is certainly among them, even to the point of falsely conflating their own accountability to the voters with general patriotism. As Theodore Roosevelt famously stated, “Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president or any other public official, save exactly to the degree in which he himself stands by the country.”
Regardless of who we vote for, we’re not doing our duty if we don’t routinely and regularly hold accountable those who hold public office. We can certainly do this without becoming obsessed, although it’s often that we distort this toward actively and regularly seeking things to criticize about our leaders. I know we’ve all experienced that on some level in the past few years. No matter how much there is to criticize, it’s far too easy to turn it into a hobby that quickly escalates into obsession. But that doesn’t mean we should avoid it either… the key here is balance, and maintaining objectivity. I know that one is tricky these days, as it seems that, more than ever, it’s hard to get information without it being pre-packaged with a healthy dose of opinions. This is fodder for another entire essay, but we can blame “the media” all we want — the reality is that current state of things with news reporting is our own fault for moving our relationships to the economy of journalism from one of long-term financial loyalty to one that only values clicks and likes and daily TV ratings.
Wherever you point the finger on that one, it’s still up to us to be sure we’re getting our information from reliable sources (there are many online tools to check this), and to understand the distinction between reliability for factual reporting and inherent editorial bias, and to seek multiple resources where those factors are at risk for distorting the information we need. But, again, one can easily obsess over that, too, and the other extreme is that we can lose all trust in every piece of information and leave ourselves devoid of useful information because we’ve lost all sense of trust in other people to give us useful information, which is a difficult lesson to learn in and of itself.
We risk overlooking the value of local leadership.
Don’t forget that the ballot contains other items than just the President, and in all honestly, the other things are probably more important anyway. Tip O’Neill coined “all politics is local” and this is true on several levels, that we could just-short-of-obsess over another time. The point is this: many of the issues that we tend to think of as being driven from the top down, often have the best chance of change on a local and state level, at least in ways that impact our lives the most.
We risk distorting our perspective and falling into despair.
Right now it seems like everything is political. It’s unavoidable. I’ve found myself inserting politics into the things that should be entirely apolitical such as the display of the American flag, taking pandemic precautions, and I’ve even recently questioned tiny innocuous thing like whether using the “laugh” reaction on Facebook in response to an innocuous joke, just because so many people have used it lately as a way to demean someone else’s political opinion as laughably idiotic. I fully expect to have someone question the political intentions of my Starbucks order or the rate at which I brake when approaching a stop light. It’s enough to lose hope and despair that we’ve lost ourselves already.
But that is the most crucial risk; we cannot lose hope… in each other, or in humanity as a whole.
We’re a flawed species, but we have to see the good in one another, despite all the bickering. And we can’t let ourselves place our hopes in a future that’s defined by political choices. No matter who is in charge of our government, there’s so much more to life. What happens if who we vote for loses the election? Will we fall into despair? What if they win… and then fall short of our expectations? It’s a shallow thing to hold all our hopes in. We have to have higher hopes. People who believe like I do find our highest hope in Christ. While we’re having that coffee I mentioned earlier, that subject is likely to come up. But there are things large and small to hold on to… whether it’s that next cup of coffee, or that TV show you like that’s returning for a new season or a reunion special, or a hike in the woods, or a walk through the city, or a good book, or time with a loved one, please find hope in these things. To borrow a phrase from a popular song lyric, turn off the news and go outside.
What government does is important, and we should value that, and act accordingly. In many cases there’s no substitute for the right leaders making the right decisions.
Please vote with discernment, considering the implications of those choices, both for yourself, your family and friends, and others who will be affected by those choices.
Please make well-informed decisions, based on reliable resources of that information. We risk a lot when we’re not appropriately involved in that process. But we risk so much when we throw ourselves headlong into it without understanding the consequences. Please, don’t live your life with your stomach tied in knots over those decisions, at the cost of life and humanity, and the other ways you can find to make a difference in the world, or find meaning in it. If we could all move past this obsession, we can avoid losing ourselves… at least, that’s my hope.
