I paraphrased that from Marcel Proust – a name any candidate for office drops at his or her own peril, lest they be labeled an out-of-touch, latte-sipping elitist and snob. I haven’t read A la recherche du temps perdu – my experience of Proust is confined to multiple viewings of the “All-England Summarize Proust Competition” from Monty Python’s Flying Circus. I did however slog my way through James Joyce’s Ulysses earlier this year. (Spoiler alert: the last word is “yes.”) I didn’t read it so I could say I did whilst peering down my nose at the teenage girl devouring her dog-eared copy of Twilight. I read it out of a sense of curiosity and wanting to enrich myself, and as a writer, wanting to learn from one of the masters. Will it have any discernible impact on my own writing? Can’t really say. But the point wasn’t to reach a definitive goal. It was to simply add another ingredient to the bubbling stew of my intellect – a concoction of memory, schooling, experience and opinion from which (hopefully) pours forth something of value.
Pardon me as I pause for another sip of my venti decaf mocha hazelnut frappucino. I mention this as I watch the unfolding of two election campaigns with the memory of a third only a few months old, and bemoan the race to the bottom that each has become. If there is a singular thread that runs through my handful of postings here, it is a profound belief in the capability of human beings at their best, and an equally profound disappointment at humanity’s choice not to exert its potential. It’s a bit like watching Superman choose to sit on his porch with a beer just because he doesn’t feel like doing anything today. Except instead of today it’s been the last 30 years.
Jimmy Carter was crushed in his bid for re-election by a guy who galvanized America with a bold, inspiring message. The message wasn’t about the incredible things that America had done when it pulled together and shared sacrifice, like winning the Second World War or landing men on the moon. No, it was that their government sucked. (It remains frustrating to me that anyone can win election to office by decrying the office itself, but there you go.) Ronald Reagan preached that government needed to be reined in, cut off at the knees, drowned in the bathtub. This message resonated so deeply, coupled with the other side’s failure to articulate a decent rebuttal, that it has informed the political discourse in the U.S. ever since. It’s disappointing to see even President Barack Obama buy into Reagan’s fallacy as he describes his battles with a Congress full of people who literally hate his guts. The debate has moved so far to the right that those of us on the other side feel like we’re a yard from our own end zone with 15 seconds left on the clock in the fourth quarter.
The rebuttal should be that government works when the right people (pardon the uncomfortable pun) are running it. And that is, subliminally, something that most people do agree with. People want leadership. “Strong leader” is one of the most important factors when pollsters take the temperature of the electorate’s attitude towards candidates. Yet the atmosphere has become so trying that truly great leaders won’t even make the ballot, let alone win. Television and 24/7 media scrutiny played on endless repeat with panel discussions, five-day-long specials and exclusive interviews has made it so that only the blandest folks can survive the onslaught. An email used to circulate a few years ago where you were given three biographies and asked to pick which you thought would make the best leader – only after you’d picked were you given the names. I don’t remember the exact details, but basically, the first was a drunk, the second was a cripple and the third was a squeaky-clean vegetarian customs clerk. Based on the bios you always went for the clerk, only to discover that it was Hitler – while the former were Churchill and FDR respectively.
We’ve seen plenty of prospective leaders undone by the smallest gaffes. Howard Dean, the progressive governor of Vermont who was leading in the early 2004 Democratic presidential race, was finished off by media overreaction to an exuberant scream he gave during a rally-the-troops speech to his supporters. Not a sex scandal, illegal nanny or even a misfiled income tax return. A scream. Michael Ignatieff, the highly-regarded writer, educator and public intellectual, led Canada’s Liberal Party to its worst-ever defeat after being hounded in attack ads and the press for having lived several years abroad. Again, he hadn’t fathered a kid with the maid or been caught snorting cocaine off a bikini model’s boobs. He was attacked for having lived outside the country. No one can say what kind of leaders these guys would have been had they won. But the circumstances of their undoing merely reinforced the meme that safe and bland is a winning strategy. In fact, you don’t have to be a strong leader at all – you just have to say you are over and over again and people will start to believe it, regardless of the evidence to the contrary, or lack of any evidence of leadership qualities at all.
If we are defined by our mistakes, and our character shaped by our reactions to them, what can be said of people who don’t make any? How is someone who grew up in comfort and was parachuted into his career by his country club father, someone who has never had to take risks and has never experienced the ache and disappointment of loss and personal failings ever supposed to empathize with the plight of drug addicts or the homeless, or the simple working man who has to scratch for every dime to feed his family? How is that person supposed to unite the differing interests of a vast country and guide them into a new and better era? When you occasion to wonder why we haven’t gone back to the moon, or to Mars, or really progressed very much further in our evolution, you have only to look at the mediocrities we’ve entrusted to lead us – people with no imagination, no soul, no capability of looking beyond the end of the spreadsheet. Politicians cruise to landslide victories on promises of nothing more than tax cuts. We then act surprised when they don’t deliver anything else.
If someone is capable, if they are intelligent, if they are curious, if they have lived a learned and compassionate life, if they have a sense of humor, if they have experienced the world beyond their borders, if they believe in the ability of government to unite and do good, if they are driven to challenge and enrich themselves, and if the cruelties of regret have forged the gravitas of statesmen, then quite frankly, I don’t care if they have snorted cocaine off a bikini model’s boobs. I’m more likely to admire them for admitting that and making light of it rather than succumbing to the papal-like finger-pointing of the media and the opposing party. We need to remember that the best of us are broken in some way, and that by demanding perfection in candidates we won’t get leaders, we’ll only get managers – those guys who in the private sector become terrific assistant vice-presidents but never really impact anybody’s life but their own. I hope to be more than that, and I hope we are one day again led by someone who is more than that.
So maybe I will pick up that copy of Proust after all. And hopefully, a future leader is doing so right now as well.
3 thoughts on “In search of lost leaders”
Excellent, as usual! Hits the nail on the boneheads who call themselves leaders.
So when are you running for office? By the way excellent piece.
The larger the mob, the harder the test. In small areas, before small electorates, a first-rate man occasionally fights his way through, carrying even the mob with him by force of his personality. But when the field is nationwide, and the fight must be waged chiefly at second and third hand, and the force of personality cannot so readily make itself felt, then all the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre — the man who can most easily adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum.
The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. How do we break the cycle?
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