The perfect candidate
We create a hero, which only leads to our own disillusionment.
If Americans have such a low opinion of politicians -- and they do -- why then do they invest so many hopes and expectations in one of them every four years?
Are they stupid? Naive? Like continually heartbroken but eternally hopeful lovers, do they really think their next suitor will not disappoint them like all the rest?
Try writing a newspaper column for a few weeks and, if you dare check your e-mail, you'll get a whiff of how much people want to love, revere and believe in the perfection of the presidential candidate of their choice. Like loyal servants or younger siblings, they also want to protect their individual candidate from criticism. It strikes me as odd that the average Jane or Joe would spend so much energy trying to defend the powerful from their detractors, but I guess that's precisely what makes them powerful in the first place.
Granted, the president is not just another politician. That office is the only one in the federal government that we all vote for. He or she is the only official responsible for and to all the people, and we expect him or her to be the embodiment of the good things we like to think about ourselves as a nation. Presidential candidates, therefore, position themselves not only as exemplary Americans but as exemplary human beings. As our estimation of politicians in general has sunk lower and lower, White House candidates have begun to portray themselves as outsiders, non-politicians, men and women who can promise not to tolerate business as usual in their chosen profession.
What shocks me, however, is that we actually fall for it.
Just hold on; I'm not saying that your candidate doesn't have good ideas or intentions, nor am I peddling outright cynicism. But the practice of idealizing politicians, of putting presidents or any other elected official on a pedestal, is a little like repeatedly nominating a used-car salesman to the Better Business Bureau. How many Eliot Spitzers does it take before we stop being even a little bit surprised that these people are not only human, they're wildly ambitious, which makes them especially prone to the big fall?
I used to think it was a shame that, at election time, I always feel obliged to choose between the lesser of two evils. But now I think it might be a blessing. Even the negative ads that pundits constantly complain about are a gift. As one Vanderbilt professor assures us, negative ads can often be more substantive (and accurate) than the goofy hagiographies that feature sunny images of the candidates and their happy families. In the best-case scenario, the mudslinging can help us see our own preferred candidate in three-dimensional terms.
