Ninety-four percent of the time in American politics, the candidate who raises the most cash wins. Writing in Rolling Stone magazine, Matt Taibbi argues that the presidential race has become a ritualistic contest between “1 percent-approved,” corporate-funded candidates, who aren’t necessarily right for the job. And this time, he thinks the public might just not let it “fly.” I don’t share his optimism. Money is not the only problem. Partisanship and meaningless rhetoric plague the American political system. The crowds have been duped before. And they probably will be again.
America has let partisan rivalry occupy too much of the space that should be held by genuine debate. Of course, there will always be disagreement in politics. In 1910, in his New Nationalism speech, Teddy Roosevelt identified “special interests” and recognized his political foes; however, his vision of opportunity and the “square deal” was the overriding message. When Obama spoke at the same city in Kansas last year, his speech was undermined by a focus on partisan problems. Obama’s stabs at his Republican opposition were both plentiful and obvious. This conflict is representative of an unhealthy culture, and it is slowly corroding American politics.
If partisan bickering unjustly holds the space of genuine debate, the language of that squabbling is also unproductive. Sure, rhetoric is important. Often crowd-pleasing and inspirational, it can be useful. But, while bombastic shouting can stir masses of people, on paper, it can look absurd. Ron Paul’s rambling speech to the Conservative Political Action Conference in December bemoaned “way too much bipartisanship” and advocated a challenge of “good philosophy versus bad philosophy.” This is irresponsible, rhetorical tosh. By acknowledging the idea of good and bad philosophies, while simultaneously failing to define them, Paul advocates a policy of perpetual disagreement. A liberal “good” will forever challenge a conservative “good,” and nothing will be achieved. Such language elicits applause, sure, but otherwise it wastes everybody’s time.
In the same speech, Paul is also guilty of another distinctly American, vague rhetorical device. With the exception of some theoretical oratory, such as David Cameron’s vision of a “big society,” the most recent elections in the United Kingdom, for example, were focused on practical solutions to tangible problems. In America, however, the candidates for president appear too often like amateur philosophers, chasing ill-defined, abstract ideas. Finishing his speech with a cry to “Defend liberty!”, Ron Paul exhibits this theme. Asking us to “believe in America” because “freedom depends on it,” Romney is guilty of the same oratorical haziness, too.
Remembering the early days of July 1776, such language is usually music to the American ear. But, it’s discordant to the foreign listener. Even John Stuart Mill, writing almost a century after Jefferson, and with philosophizing as his main occupation, struggled to define “liberty” and to understand how individual liberties can properly coexist. It’s not simple, even though Mr. Paul thinks it is: “You have a right ... to the way you want to live your life, as long as you don’t hurt people’.
Thanks, Ron, but it’s all a little unclear.
What does it mean to “hurt people”? If you are restrained from hurting people through your own actions, does that not hurt you, instead? The American quest for freedom and liberty is admirable and perhaps the envy of the world. But it can become too convoluted. These imprecise words are thrown around political discourse, and quickly become meaningless and restrictive. America should be guided, not constrained, by the strong values of those early documents that defined a nation. Liberty, freedom, hope, change: To be useful, these words need definition, not rhetorical overuse.
The subject of “liberty” takes us back to the issue of partisanship. Although both Democrats and Republicans are engaged in perpetual finger-pointing, neither side of the political spectrum actually wants the extremes of anarchy or a police state. Everyone knows that. Instead, it’s an insatiable thirst for power that drives debate and ensures that solutions are difficult to reach. If you’re not arguing in Washington, you’re accepting that the other guy might be doing a good job. And that’s not allowed, because then he stays in control. The same is true in Westminster and Berlin and all across the world. It’s not solely an American problem. But it is an American problem, and it needs to be fixed.
The beginning of this article was misleading. The crowds are not being duped. While some might cheer and shout at the many cliched, meaningless words that drop out of these politicians’ mouths, most know exactly what’s going on. Their shouts are cries of despair, hopelessness and frustration. The problem of money is only the beginning of our worries. There’s too much rhetoric and partisanship, and the country suffers as a result. So, what’s the remedy? We need honest, reasonable, strong politicians. Unfortunately, they’re a rare breed. Let’s hope, at least, that they’re only hiding and not extinct.
Philip Mooney is a freshman from Belfast, Northern Ireland. He can be reached at pmooney@princeton.edu.