I Talk With Political Skeptics
“With all you’ve seen, how can you still be doing this?” I was urging some friends to vote in the upcoming primary. One was astounded that I bothered. I was equally astonished, at the question, and found myself speechless. The conversation meandered, in ordinary ways “(money controls everything”). But also in extraordinary ways: admiration for certain strongmen, and the easy assurance with which someone asked “Do you think democracy is working?” He was sure I couldn’t; no one could.
I don’t remember what I said. But here’s what I’d say now.
Is democracy working? Yes. imperfectly, but better than any alternative on offer. (Thanks, Churchill.) Was my interlocutor flirting with fascism? I don’t know.
With all I’ve seen, why do I still urge people to vote? Exactly because of “all that I’ve seen.” Politically, Michigan offers a lot to see, a full spectrum of political drama: At one end, fools who plotted to kidnap our governor and abandon her on Lake Michigan. At the other end of the spectrum, the spectacular success of our anti-gerrymandering campaign. It was begun in 2016 by 27 year old Katie Fahey. Thousands of volunteers pitched in; in the 2018 election, voters overwhelmingly approved an amendment to Michigan’s Constitution. This year’s election takes place on a newly level playing field.
“All that I’ve seen” includes the cost of not voting. Trump won in 2016 simply because so many people didn’t vote at all. In Michigan just 10,000 voters (out of 8 million) could have denied him victory.
Why didn’t they? For many reasons; social scientists fine-combed the data for years. But last month’s conversation suggested something new for me. Several of my friends just avoid politics: They refuse to think or talk about it. A veteran with PTSD once said “I’m just happier when I don’t.” Probably because politics is contentious by nature; its whole purpose is to enable people who disagree to live together in peace. 330 million people don’t agree about much. Politics lets us forge agreement, usually through compromise. (Biden has recently managed this quite impressively, and against all odds.) But in practical terms politics has become combat, too often simply about defeating the other side. The language can be vitriolic, the tools corrupt.
It’s no wonder that people who need peace in their lives avoid it.
Not only has politics itself become a slugfest, political analysis pervades the news. When the Supreme Court reversed Roe, for instance, news instantly went to implications for November. Of course elections matter. But wherever one stands on abortion, the decision was monumental. Its implications for human lives will unfold for years. Moving so quickly to electoral consequences cheapened what was at stake. (Coverage by now is much broader; still, talk of November is never far away.)
I try to consume news selectively, skipping blizzards, spin doctors, and most predictions (What will voters do? How will China respond? What next with COVID? Etc.) In conversation, though, I’m less careful. At lunch that day, for instance, talk began with someone’s gleeful, masochistic suggestion that Trump will win again. I stuck by my principles and refused to engage. But discussion drifted into utopian fantasies of ideal governments, and I took the bait. Not everyone at the table took part. Some were indifferent, others probably alienated.
So I’m offering a bargain, to the political skeptics in my life: I will avoid talking politics except for the two weeks before an election – if and only if they sign up now to receive a mail-in ballot. In those final two weeks, knowing they have a ballot at home, I’ll push them to use it, and offer resources so they can make informed choices.
Will anyone be interested? Dunno. And could I actually keep my end of the bargain? It would be interesting to watch myself try.
My better angels lead me to respect non-voters, to try to understand them. This column is about those who are skeptical or alienated. But there are others, free-riders, who will say: “I was one of 10,000. My staying at home did not matter.” They enjoy the benefits of democracy while doing nothing to sustain it. And finally there are the indifferent, who do not care whether democracy survives.
I’m uneasy. I deal with fear by doing what I can – as I’ve said, it can make a difference. But my worry remains. I’m still wondering.
No one has picked up on my central point: That political activity is so often angry and hostile, and that coverage of it as a slugfest or a horse race too often dominates the news.
I suppose we ignore those points because we can't do anything about them. So, yes, let's keep on keeping on, for all the causes that matter.
I am sitting in a hotel waiting for friends to meet up with me as we leave the women’s Comvention in Houston. It was full of energy and ideas. Voting is important but we need to focus more on local elections, too. We talked about practical policies, the math behind the family rights act in California- it is a big win for myriad stakeholders and much more. My niece led delegates from Indiana so I came to support her and I am so grateful I attended. People shared how to get permits for protests, how to run for office, why it is okay to disagree, how to engage with opposing positions, how some groups contributed to new policies and more. There are so many ways to productively engage with the world and I feel hopeful. Someone at the conference said hope is optimism plus hard work and it is a discipline. I am not sure if that is hope but I like the idea of combining optimism with hard work!