Do you ever cringe in self-recognition? I mean, like this: I was a somewhat arrogant young fellow. In fact, when I was a college freshman, I was so annoyed by my introductory political science class that I made an appointment with the dean of the university to complain. I wanted him to know that the course wasn’t rigorous enough, and that the old professor was using outdated examples in his lectures.
The dean was an erudite gentleman of the Old South, and the fact that he even agreed to see me, a kid he didn’t know, is remarkable, of course. But that was only the first lesson that I took from the experience.
That sunny afternoon in his quiet office, the dean shocked me by agreeing that the professor was indeed past his prime. Then he offered to let me repeat the course with another professor – and he assured me that I would do fine in my coursework, even if this one class didn’t give me all I might have hoped.
That meeting with the dean has come back to me many times over the years. Most notably, I’ve never forgotten the generosity that was evident in someone far above my stature taking the time to listen and consider my thoughts – not to mention in the respect he displayed by the candor of his reaction. Important learning can come from those kinds of experiences — often, like this, outside the classroom. It’s what we all hope for young people who are given the opportunity of a fine education. College isn’t just about taking courses that will get you a job.
But there’s another lesson I took from the episode. While my old professor never knew that a cocky kid had complained about him to his boss, I still wish I had offered him an apology – because the fact is that something in those lectures that I so disparaged sticks with me even now, and it’s fundamental to my view of politics.
In analyzing how voters choose which candidate to support, the professor offered advice to his young students, many of whom hadn’t yet cast a vote.
Here is what he said: “It comes down to character.” He explained, “Nobody’s going to agree with you all the time. Vote for the best man.”
Or woman, of course, but, as I said, the professor was of another era. Still, it strikes me that it has never been more important for us than now, at a time when our democracy itself is a bit shaky, for us to follow that advice — namely, to pay more attention to the character of our public officials than to how closely their opinions match our own.
In that way, I’m an adherent of one of the intellectual progenitors of modern conservatism, Edmund Burke. He was an influential member of British Parliament during the American and French revolutions. Quite memorably, in a 1774 speech to his constituents in Bristol, Edmund Burke argued that while our elected officials must put our interests above their own, they aren’t obligated to cater to our whims.
Here are Edmund Burke’s words about a legislator’s role. He said: “But his unbiased opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living.” Burke went on, “Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.”
So ask yourself: How many politicians nowadays are doing what they deeply believe is right, as opposed to what they think is most likely to make them popular with voters?
True enough, a politician isn’t able to do much good for anybody if taking a stand leads to losing office. But that’s how democracy must work. If we elect people who seem to merit our trust, we must then trust them to do right by us. And if we think they have failed in that task, we then have the opportunity to elect someone else.
But that’s not how most elected officials act nowadays. They’re so eager to be popular – to cling to office, no matter what cost to their integrity – that they’re exactly the kind of representative that Edmund Burke, the father of modern conservatism, warned against.
What kind of integrity does a member of Congress show in backing a disgraced former president who fomented an insurrection that killed people in the U.S. Capitol? What judgment is displayed by legislators who would risk global economic chaos by insisting that they won’t support raising the debt ceiling so that our government can pay the bills that Congress itself has authorized?
Well, the pundits say, they’re just being practical, because if they don’t make such craven choices, primary challengers will chase those politicians from office. Maybe so. But that’s a transaction nobody should be willing to make, and it’s a fight that no self-respecting politician should shirk. It’s a choice made clear by no less an authority than the Gospel of Mark. That’s where you read this familiar line: “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
These are realities that we won’t solve quickly. Today, though, there’s an opportunity for me to set one matter straight, all these decades later – by gratefully endorsing what I learned from both my old professor and from the dean who honored me with a hearing. And that lesson is this: It’s all about character.
Rex Smith, the co-host of The Media Project on WAMC, is the former editor of the Times Union of Albany and The Record in Troy. His weekly digital report, The Upstate American, is published by Substack.
The views expressed by commentators are solely those of the authors. They do not necessarily reflect the views of this station or its management.