The United States approaches the 2020 presidential election more divided than ever. The system many were hankering after during the Cold War has since been contaminated with a caustic dose of idealism, its neoteric state looking grim and bereft of ostensible signs of improvement. On the political left, those who were culled in the primaries to represent the Democratic Party on the ballot espouse foolish beliefs, which threaten to become our tragic flaw. Far-fetched utopian promises sticking in the craw of most voters have supplanted judgment at their rallies and caucuses. However, the right is hardly different: many Republicans shun change, forgetting their duty consists of championing what is best for the country rather than doing the bidding of some inflexible ideology they once learned about in lengthy philosophical treatises.
This obdurate reticence to wander away from our convictions is responsible for a great deal of toxicity, which characterises American politics. Secluding ourselves in our weltanschauung, we only grow more predisposed towards derecognising the benevolence of those ideas that differ from our own and refusing to debate with their preachers. Instead of engaging in meaningful dialogue, whether on campus, in state legislatures or in the corridors of the Capitol Building, we fail to venture outside our comfort zone. This benefits neither ourselves nor others. It is a truism that progress originates in competition; yet, without exchanging opinions to broaden our understanding of the issues at stake, little progress may be accomplished.
The coronavirus outbreak has precisely highlighted our existing weaknesses. Though every government and society on Earth have equally been caught unprepared, it is America that trailblazes others in terms of confirmed deaths and makes international headlines. The New York Times reports 25% of workers are currently jobless due to the pandemic, and stories of conflict between federal authorities and state governors as well as between the latter and their constituents account for much of our news coverage. Arguably, much of this calamity was far from inescapable. The haphazard, panic-inspired construction of hospitals that remain empty could have been avoided. Government bailouts could have been handled better. Even if the situation’s unprecedented nature may somewhat explain these two, it is undeniable that the whole country would have benefitted from not receiving mixed messages about lockdowns and hydroxychloroquine. In a time of crisis, the American people would have hoped their leaders unite and resile from the quarrelling we saw between Trump and Pelosi. Our politicos have failed to provide the guidance we desperately needed. Worse still, the confusion surrounding the authorities’ handling of this crisis was likewise their own creation; by insufficiently explaining their conduct, they aggravated public anxiety. In turn, this lack of direction prompted some to oppose lockdowns and others to criticise easing restrictions. The former did not fathom the importance of allowing the healthcare sector breathing space to prepare for the rising numbers of patients, whereas the latter similarly overlooked the need to prevent an economic downturn, whence we found ourselves in a depressing state of nationwide confusion. The United States’ leadership being too preoccupied with defending principles to the death, the people were left alone in the fight against this invisible Goliath.
When politicians are elected on platforms as idealistic and delusional as the one of Ocasio-Cortez, there is little choice for their rivals but to pander to idealism, evidently at the expense of the ordinary citizens’ wellbeing. In such dire conditions, each round of elections brings to the fore candidates more entrenched in their beliefs than the previous generation. Their propensity to dumb down politics by proselytising a mercurial perception of the world and offering simple, yet misguided answers to the complexities of so sophisticated a field as governance is only dumbing down the electorate. Each day the average Joe hears a politician or a commentator assert “A is right and B is wrong” online or on television, he comes closer to polarisation, to losing his ability to notice the beam in his eye much like he points at the speck in his neighbour’s. This ludicrous search for simplicity is tribalising our society. For this reason, overlaps in policies between the Republican and the Democratic programmes seem harder to find than life on Mars. Within the institutions we trust there cultivates an atmosphere of noxious brinkmanship, exemplified in the cancel culture found on college campuses and Joe Biden’s rude remarks about Republican voters.
This has to stop. This simply has to stop, for the country may no longer afford to withstand these internal divisions and support the façade of national unity that has historically deterred America’s enemies from trying to subvert our constitutional freedoms. The pandemic has created a palpable dent in our economy, and any curative measures will depend on bipartisan consensus to actuate financial recovery and salvage the American people from poverty. To achieve this, we must rethink our priorities. No matter how much you want it to be otherwise, we reside in no ideal-typical capitalist society, where individuals find easy answers. Our surroundings are inconsistent with the smorgasbord of human theories about the way they operate and far too complex to be understood with straightforward principles discarding any exceptions to them as mistaken in origin. The French pioneer of sociology, Auguste Comte, wisely argued that we might never discover a single law to explain the entire universe. After all, humans themselves form part of the system we study, and are prisoners of our brains’ information-processing capacity.
If we cannot break science down to the core set of ideas that accounts for everything else, why have we been so eager to invent a similar set of tenets for how to run the country? As evidenced by the divisions in American politics and their impact on our crisis response, this is more pernicious than advantageous. At present, we tend to neglect the fundamental inconsistencies of statesmanship, preferring to see only a single solution, when there are many. By sticking to these parochial preferences, we risk succumbing to further discord within our ranks, and as Lincoln had wisely put it, “A house divided on itself cannot stand.”
The greatest Americans were those who recognised this. Though a stalwart free-trader, Ronald Reagan understood that unconditional free trade did not serve the interests of all Americans and therefore levied tariffs on Japanese electronics. The nation’s saviour, Abraham Lincoln, had just one principle, to which he stuck religiously – that of saving the Union from disintegration. During the Civil War, he suspended the habeas corpus, approved a progressive income tax, and emphasised reconciliation over irreversibly ending the evil practice of slavery. He was wise enough to place the United States above the Republican agenda. Through pragmatic compromise, he converted sceptical ministers Seward and Chase into loyal friends, their contributions proving crucial to the country’s survival. He likewise found common ground between his party and the Northern Democrats at a time when cross-party solidarity was most required.
Unfortunately, the country has seemingly forgotten this Lincolnian spirit 150 years later. Our politicians and those aspiring to succeed them have largely been infected with idealism, which causes them to view the world in absolutes and abhor compromise. They build castles in the air, dreaming of a supposedly perfect America functioning exclusively according to either the free market or the Green New Deal and attaching enormous value to these ideas. It outweighs the one they see in the American experience, and such a shift in loyalties is alarming.
Certainly, there is room for ideology in politics; few politicians enter office entirely bereft of benevolent visions, guiding mores, and ossified convictions. That said, successful politicians earn their recognition by controlling their ideology and not letting the ideology control them. This is where pragmatism ought to begin, and I implore you to embrace it and rid the United States politics of its mephitic character. A true Republican serves not Ayn Rand, Milton Friedman, or Edmund Burke; he represents the American people. If politics is fundamentally about civil service, pragmatism allows us to serve with civility.
