The Sold Coast

I hate the way the Internet has turned into a new version of talk radio with the number of annoying partisan channels approaching infinity, but at the risk of piling it on, I want to say something else about elections, and, more specifically, why they make me so sad. As I have written many times, I don't like democracy, and I distrust decisions made by majority rule. But this is the system we insist on, and since we do, it's on us to work with it as best as we can.

As I see it, there are three reasons why intelligent people cast votes. Well, four, really, but I'm ignoring those who cast their ballots for friends and neighbors whom they believe will give them favors. Those voters exist – you might even know a few of them – but they're the subject of a separate discussion.

Reason #1: you vote for the candidate who you believe has best demonstrated leadership ability. This could be organizational capacity, a way with people, or some kind of inspirational presence. Jim Florio was nobody's idea of a charismatic or messianic figure, but when I voted for him, I did so because the things he'd said genuinely inspired me. When Jesse Jackson gave that speech about two Americas at the '96 convention – one that has since been ripped off without attribution by every two-bit hack in Washington – that fired me up and inspired me to re-engage with the Democratic party. These were emotional decisions, but they weren't ones made in an intellectual vacuum. The decision to follow a leader – any leader – is always an emotional one, and is always an implicit referendum on that leader's character.

Reason #2: you vote for the candidate who seems to have demonstrated applied intellect and a mastery of policy issues. This strikes me as an inferior reason to support a politician than the first, since no layman can ever approach comprehensive and detailed knowledge of anything other than his immediate preoccupations. But I think it is fair – and probably often right – to generalize from a candidate's public appearances. People often wondered why I was so enthusiastic about Albert Gore, and why I have always been willing to argue so passionately in favor of his candidacies. I did so because he struck me as so much better prepared and attentive to detail than his opponents that he earned my immediate respect. When Bob Dole was senate majority leader (yes, people, I am an admirer of Bob Dole), he took stands on hundreds of issues that were contrary to what I believed would be best for the country. But I always had faith that he'd studied the issue and reasoned his way to a thoughtful conclusion. I may have disagreed with him, but I never kidded myself that I knew better than Senator Dole did.

Reason #3: you vote for the candidate who best resembles you. This is, I believe, the reason that most votes are cast, including, I am sad to say, almost all of my own. In my more big-headed moments, I often compliment myself on the comprehensiveness of my self-education, and I fancy myself peculiarly suited for the ballot booth. But upon extended inspection, I see only the most marginal distinction between casting a ballot for a member of your ethnic group and casting one for a member of your policy or affinity group. Strip away everything you take for granted about political campaigns, and ask yourself: why am I really voting for Senator Jones? Is it actually because I believe Senator Jones is better for America (that abstract and indefinable concept), or is it because I believe that sophisticated and witty Senator Jones looks, acts, and thinks more like I do than Representative Hicks, his folksy challenger? I know very intelligent people who express contempt for "identity politics", and who then turn around and vote for a politician because that candidate's view of the environment or NAFTA or censorship of video games most closely resembles their own. Both acts do the same thing: they attempt to use the politician to extend the dominion of the voter, and to reward those who share her values and punish those who don’t.

Viewed this way, it is actually nobler for an immigrant Latino voter to choose representatives purely because they, too, are Latinos than it is for an educated and sophisticated voter to cast ballots based on individual policy preferences. The former act presupposes a community conscience and a wholesome belief in behaving in concert with neighbors. The latter simply instrumentalizes the candidate and turns him into an extension of the voter’s will. And whether you know it or not, when you vote for Senator Jones because you believe he is best positioned to discharge an agenda to which you swear fealty, you are secretly subordinating the politician to yourself. You have become the assessor, evaluating the candidate on his conformity to a slate of beliefs developed by you and those who think and act like you. Pressure groups actually send candidates policy checklists and administer percentile grades based on agreement with the “correct” positions; online surveys match voters with prospective officeholders based on preference quizzes. The assumption is that You the Voter have the roster in your head, and the candidate who best aligns himself with those on the answer key will win the right to receive the great gift of your vote.

To which I ask: who the hell are you? You are not a senator, or even a senator's aide; most likely, you are an aesthete of some sort with a heart that is at least two sizes too big for your own good, and at least four sizes too big for government. You are, of course, a democratic subject, and you have been taught that your opinion is just as good as the next man’s – or at least, you have learned to insist that it is, even in the face of evidence to the contrary. But because you’ve grown accustomed to fooling yourself into thinking that the role of the politician is to sign on to a policy slate developed by the advocacy group that best suits your taste and social stratum, you’ve absolved yourself of having to think at all. You can rest comfortably, knowing that there is a big enviable Truth burning out there on the plane of ideas – one you know by rote, and one which your local politician will fail to live up to by making any sort of compromise. And when he makes that compromise, he will not be a nuanced student of policy, or a studied, ambivalent thinker, or even a diplomat. He will be a coward, or a stooge, or corrupt, or an Idiot in Charge.

And this is the great failing and flaw of democracy, and the best reason I can think of to quit trying to ram it down the throats of other countries that may be on their way to developing something alternate: it creates contempt for leadership. It makes us disregard and often even despise the leadership qualities of its most prominent actors, it teaches us to insist on rigidity of thought over mercurial and adaptable vision, and in so doing, it drives natural leaders out of government and into the boardroom, or the music industry, or the crack dens. Now, this is the point where people think I’ve become a frontrunner or an establishmentarian in my old age, but actually, it’s just the opposite. Leadership is not the police, or the Big State. Leadership is the only force that stands half a chance against institutional authority – the wind that blows against the big sandcastles. Those with an interest in maintaining the status quo fear leadership most of all, and try to convince us that selecting and following an inspirational leader is tantamount to indoctrination. But it is altogether possible to maintain a critical perspective while responding emotionally and maintaining faith; in fact, it’s probably the only way to be a responsible and genuine civic actor.

I always hope to have the strength to vote for reason #1. Failing that, I will settle for reason #2. But when I am honest with myself, I can recognize that I almost always vote for the third reason: seeking out candidates who have “seen the light” on Important Issues (in other words, those who agree with me) or who live in my neighborhood and can thus be counted on to perform acts of heroism on behalf of my pals, or who somehow remind me of me. At base level, I voted for Jon Corzine because he lives in Hoboken. I’d argue that it’s a baby step toward recovery, since it suggests some rudimentary concern for community and a love for a particular place on the map. It’s instrumentalizing and cynical, and thus not a terribly noble reason. But I have to believe that it’s a better one than voting for Corzine because he agrees with me, or the version of me scripted by NJPIRG, or the NRA, or Air America, or the Democratic Party.

# posted by Spring Chicken 2009 @ 5:52 PM