Privacy, partisanship and political punditry
(Originally published in PULP)
I love my privacy.
In an era with more information coming at each of us in a month than previous generations experienced in a lifetime, we have to be vigilant about our mental and physical personal space. Whereas we began as hunters and foragers, now we expend a similar amount of energy holding things at arms’ length.
I have three different spam filters on my e-mail accounts, siphoning out nearly all of the junk from my e-mail box before it lands on my laptop. I’m on every do-not-call and do-not-mail list I can find, and the absence of clutter that results is nothing short of blissful.
Then comes election season.
For years I identified myself as a progressive independent, reserving my fidelity to a case-by-case assessment of the candidates available. This varied widely, by the way, as I lived everywhere from Chicago to Seattle and several points in between; it seemed to make more sense to stay neutral until someone provided me with enough motivation to pick a side.
It wasn’t until I ran for Pueblo school board several years ago that I saw the inherent advantage of being a part of a political party. Registering as a Democrat for me was almost like finally taking the plunge with a longtime girlfriend and popping the question. Our values had largely aligned for long enough; now we were official.
My fellow Democrat activists did their part to support my candidacy, for which I remain grateful, despite my loss. But since then I continue to question my affiliation with a major party once again, given the blizzard of mailings, robo-calls and TV advertising that we get buried under for months around every election.
There’s a fine line between being informed and being overwhelmed or even coerced. Though I believe the major parties act more or less above board and in accordance with election laws, I can’t help but feel that I’m just barely surviving every election cycle. What’s more, having been a candidate, I know that many political rainmakers actually can ascertain whether you voted or not. I can’t help but feel like someone — Big Brother? The godfather? — is watching me.
Finally, My biggest concern remains the continuation of a broken, two-party system. It seems we’re caught in a loop where the Republicans take the majority, then suffer ignominious loss under the white-hot microscope of modern media, being exposed and then leaving the door open for the Democrats to claim the next cycle. The Dems, in turn, get beaten up for similar allegations of fiscal impropriety, scandal or, more likely, just routine ineffectiveness. And on and on it goes.
So the balance shifts back and forth every two, four, six or eight years, rendering the whole system somewhat impotent as more and more time, money and energy go into which party has 50 percent plus one, and thus is able to subjugate the other almost-half to its will.
I’m starting to believe that the only solution is for a third party (or maybe more) to gain enough of a foothold that neither major party can expect to hold the majority. I’m no friend of the teabaggers — excuse me, tea partiers — but I certainly understand their discontent. As a Democrat, I’m actually encouraged by the potential effect they’ll have on the Republican base, but it’s only a matter of time before the greens or some other progressive group kicks the donkeys in the proverbial rump.
So what’s the solution? Do I break away and support a third party, hoping it will someday lead to consensus-building, but also knowing it may hurt the cause of those candidates with similar ideals to mine? Or do I toe the party line, helping continue to feed a political beast I am afraid is actually doing more harm than good to representative democracy?
With November looming, it’s only a matter of months — maybe days — after that until we start talking presidential politics and the 2012 showdown. It seems there’s so much at stake, both in the short and long terms, that neither solution presents a satisfying outcome.
On the upside, these political pamphlets and flyers are going to make one hell of a bonfire, come winter.