Monday, August 25, 2008

party hard


Tonight the three housemates got embroiled in a quick and dirty political discussion, in which one of us said things that he firmly believes, one of us said a bunch of things in the hopes he might believe in at least one of them, and the third just tried to rile the other two up.

What, exactly, is "post-partisanship?"

I'm not sure I know. I said something tonight to the effect of: Partisans want to pull the entire country, to their "correct" way of seeing and doing things. Post-partisans (or non-partisans) seek compromise.

I think I believe that, but it's not a fully fleshed-out concept yet. On one hand, yes, it's good that people believe in some things and want to see policy enacted in one particular way. On the other hand, forcing that viewpoint on everyone else seems to be anti-pluralist, even if majority rules. Reasonable people, after all, may disagree.

There's been a lot of talk in the house about Thomas Frank's books. Mike is working on The Wrecking Crew, the new one, and I have been a fan of What's the Matter With Kansas?" for a few years now. In Kansas, Frank writes about the culture of conservative victimization. Even while holding all three branches of national government, as they did in the mid-aughts, many conservatives felt victimized by the liberal media and the liberal ideals taking hold in society. They elected far-right social conservatives as a way to combat those evil forces at work. They had an agenda.

Meanwhile, on the East Coast, or West Coast, or Third Coast, or wherever those dastardly folks drink their lattes, liberal Democrats were feeling victimized/oppressed by Bush administration policies. I mean, we had eight years of Bush, right? He screwed lots of stuff up, so why not give the DEMOCRATS a try for a change? They had an agenda, too.

Now, I have no interest in deciding whose victimization is "correct." The pendulum swings right, and then it swings just as far left, and onward and onward to eternity. The liberals pushing history forward as hard as they can, and Bill Buckley sitting on top of it, yelling "STOP!" But the net motion of a pendulum is zero.

There's never much talk about the people in the middle, the "post-partisans" or "non-partisans" who aren't part of the two gravity wells pulling the future of America apart by pulling in two separate directions. (Admittedly: this is extremely self-serving to believe my still-coalescing viewpoint is better than the well-vetted platforms of ancient political movements)

That said, I don't think politics is a battle that can be won in the aggregate -- even throughout the 20th century, liberal ideas slowly took hold and were accepted as truth, only for the conservatives to retreat and find a new foothold in something else. There will be no surrender and there can be no victory. So why is our system set up so, as the article says, there is no centrist party in the United States? Don't give me the "our Democratic party is still well to the right of most European political parties" business. What's so great about the Democratic or Republican parties that they deserve to be celebrated (as they will in their conventions in these next weeks) or even maintained at all?

And here's a homework question: What exactly is a partisan, and how can you tell?

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

the tale of bill clinton


When I was in high school, the President was impeached. Many of you have probably had similar experiences.

This came amidst night after night of the NBC Nightly News with Tom Brokaw and my parents. Each night I would hear the Republicans beat up on Clinton, followed by my parents beating up on Clinton and me wondering what was so bad about the guy. Then I got up in the morning for AP Government (which I took in 10th grade thanks to a special quirk of the program I attended in high school).

My friends at the time were (and still are) more political than I am. So for all the Clinton-bashing I got at home, I sat among 15-year-olds who bashed Republicans at school. Long story short, I felt bad for the guy. How could anybody (whether you are talking about Clinton or his detractors) be as bad as they were saying? Clinton was the first president I really grew up with -- I have no memories of Reagan and only remember the 1988 election and Bush's inauguration in '89. So while most people follow the political viewpoints of their parents, I heard so much of my folks' opinion that I bounced in the other direction out of sympathy.

This loosely relates to what was going to be the original topic of this post: my much-maligned and all-too-frequent statement that "I don't care about the issues." I wish those months of my adolescence (not to mention my political ideology) hadn't been soured by the acrimony I saw on TV, at school and in my living room. Ever since then, save for the pause after Sept. 11, it's been nothing but screeching, howling and fingerpointing. I'm sick of it. It's why I've never ever had any desire for the Republican, Democrat, liberal or conservative labels. I initially thought Obama was finally a Democrat who was going to put America before the Democratic party; now, I'm not so convinced. More on "postpartisanship" and my always-changing views on Barack Obama some other time.

What started back in 10th grade and remains today is this: the problems I care about are more cultural, more psychological, more sociological than political. Policies, after all, come and go. We have to live in this culture every day.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

purple states

illustration courtesy of ed mullen at purplestates.org

I don't care much for the color purple, with apologies to Oprah. The image above illustrates rather nicely, if slightly misleadingly, the problem with political dialogue and the way we approach elections. Lately I have been thinking that those are the things I care most about in politics: not the substance of the debate but the manner in which it is conducted.

There's a book I want to read very soon called The Big Sort by Bill Bishop. My inspiration for this is a great little piece in The Economist, which I make no claims on reading regularly. The idea: Americans, for some time now, have been choosing to live among like-minded neighbors. The exchange in the Economist article is telling: the blue Marylanders don't know any conservatives; the red Virginians have no understanding of liberals. It's a choice they made, either consciously or unconsciously.

So let's look at that purple state map at the top again, and compare it to these. Nearly the entire American West is self-segregating, and look at Indiana and Pennsylvania in particular. I don't think these maps really tell the whole story (better told in anecdotes, unfortunately for the argument's sake), but the point that hits home for me is, we don't seem interested in different viewpoints anymore. What fun is a political discussion if everyone spouts the same opinions in different ways? In some ways, this is why I'm glad I live in a town with plenty of conservative old folks, and plenty of liberal younger folks: it gives me something to push against. America has never been about homogeneity; why start now?

At the end of all this, I ask myself two questions: one, are Americans on the whole more alike, or are we more different? Two, are we already at the point when we give up on compromise and retreat to our respective corners? Nationally, are we going to be minglers or wallflowers?

political scientist

Good evening, folks.

The last time I blogged, I was following the 2004 election as closely as I could. I have a vivid memory of sitting alone in Ian's living room into the wee hours, waiting for the Ohio results to come in. I was disappointed, to say the least.

In talking with people about the 2008 elections, I am starting to realize how much that experience has changed the way I look about politics. Before, I styled myself as an impartial observer. Since then I seem to be more disappointed in everything. I saw the Republicans as unfit to lead; I saw the Democrats as unable to capitalize on their weak opponents. But most of all, I found myself increasingly alienated by the political scene.

I grew up with a great deal of Republican influence; nearly all my relatives are conservative, and now many of my coworkers, too. Traditionally, though, nearly all my friends are Democrats, or at least liberal. I consider myself a left-leaning moderate trying to see both sides. It's amazing to me how similar the mindsets are, and how each side seems completely oblivious to the other. I want to be equally comfortable in both worlds, but trying to understand both sides almost necessitates holding conflicting views in my mind simultaneously. I'm finding it exhausting.

This blog is an attempt to hash out what I think about politics, in an effort to have a less exhausting political life. More to come.