Q: Will I be voting for the Democratic nominee for President in 2016?
A:
I have a lot of reasons to vote. But I’m not one of those reasons.
My age is 46. I’m a straight white male. And I know that brings privilege. Even where I cannot see it, it’s there, in much the same way that my height (I’m 6’3”) has probably assisted me in unseen and unknown ways throughout my life. The genetic deck of cards dealt me an easy hand. I’m not saying that it’s a better hand, but it is one that makes life much simpler for me. I know that.
I don’t need assistance. No one is profiling me. Potential employers don’t reject me, consciously or unconsciously, because of my skin color. My gender doesn’t result in my getting paid 70 cents on the dollar of what people of the opposite gender get paid. I never worry about being assaulted or killed because of my sexual orientation. When Officer Friendly pulls me over for a traffic violation, I don’t sweat out the encounter and I never have to look down the barrel of his firearm. I can look at almost every group of power in the United States — Congress, school administrators, judges, law enforcement, local governance, CEOs, etc. — and see people who look like me. I’m living a reasonably contented middle class existence, with decent employer-provided insurance and good health all through my family.
I’m doing fine. Me, myself and I are not the reasons I pull the lever in the voting booth.
One of two things will happen in November 2016: collectively, we as Americans will elect a Democratic President (likely Hillary Clinton) or we will elect a Republican President (Donald Trump or Ted Cruz or Marco Rubio, or perhaps someone else, who will be no better than any of those three).
I’ll vote for the Democratic nominee for the same reason that in 2004 I voted for John Kerry rather than writing in Howard Dean, for the same reason that in 2000 that I voted for Al Gore rather than writing in Bill Bradley (sorry, I never drank the Nader Kool-Aid, so voting for him was never anything that so much as crossed my mind), for the same reason that in 1992 I voted for Bill Clinton rather than writing in Paul Tsongas. The nominee isn’t always my first choice; actually, it never is — there are invariably choices that I think would be better nominees and better Presidents who never even run. This time around, Russ Feingold comes to mind. But all of that is irrelevant, because we live in a system where either the Democratic nominee or the Republican nominee will be elected President. And that’s the choice. Anything else in only so much vain self-fluffing.
I don’t give a shit about getting warm fuzzies about my vote. I’m not looking for a hero when I cast my ballot — I’m trying to assist the best candidate among those still in the running who have a shot. And no, I’m not some two-party purist. On the rare occasion that an acceptable third-party candidate demonstrates competitiveness, I’m opening to the concept of pulling the lever for that person (it happens now and then — Jesse Ventura in Minnesota, Angus King in Maine — I’m not saying I’d vote for them, just that I’d considering voting for someone acceptable who demonstrated their ability to actually win). By the same token, I don’t vote for someone languishing at 2% in the polls while the two major-party contenders duke it out, and then bleat “But… but… if only more people voted for Mr./Mrs. 2% then they’ve have won!”. Right. And irrelevant. That’s no more relevant that pissing away a chance to stave off a Bush Presidency by writing in Bradley, or pulling the lever for Nader.
I’ve got an obligation to everyone wearing a uniform of the armed forces of the United States to do what I can to make sure a Democrat and not a Republican is Commander in Chief. Are the Democratic candidates perfect? Of course not. Clinton voted to authorize the War in Iraq (though it should be said that that’s a far cry from pushing for the war in the first place). Sanders voted to support NATO’s bombing of Serbian targets in 1998 (which I supported too, without regrets — but then, I am not against all military interventions). But even if someone wholeheartedly opposes both of those interventions, it doesn’t change the fact that the driving forces in pushing for invading countries and boots on the ground have been not Democrats but Republicans. Am I supposed to smugly wallow in self-satisfaction as a Republican President that I helped elect by not voting for his Democratic opponent oversees the death of thousands of American troops in the next neocon wet-dream-turned-reality? I don’t think so.
The United States Supreme Court. Do I really need to say any more?
Women’s reproductive freedom partially dovetails with the issue of Supreme Court appointments, but also exists independently of it. How many unwanted children and back-alley abortions gone bad am I willing to tolerate so I can feel oh-so self-righteously superior? Not a single one, that’s how many. But, hey — maybe you don’t mind a few or a dozen or a hundred or more, so long as you’re able to maintaining your voting purity.
How about LGBT issues of all sorts? This one strikes home. It’s always been close to my heart, but it really became personal three years ago when my older son, then 16 years old, came out. How much rollback of his rights, and a commensurate slowdown of expanded rights for LGBT folks, am I willing to accept? None. None at all. Again, your mileage may vary if you think that making people like him suffer, and in some cases die, somehow can be parlayed into a political advantage for your ideal candidates down the road. I won’t play that sort of dangerous game with the lives of others, though, though I know plenty of people who are happy to gamble when it’s not their skin in the game.
To be sure, I am not doing anyone any favors. My vote isn’t some act of benevolence. Votes such as to fund schools or for protecting Planned Parenthood or to establish laws protecting LGBT — those aren’t optional gifts but necessary acts of community. They are morally required, as far as I am concerned. I must support them because I am obligated to do so.
In the end, I am part of a coalition — the Democratic Party. It is one of two political coalitions that effect 99.9% of political/government change in the United States, the other being the Republican Party. There are other parties. They do not effect change, but instead serve as vehicles for people to feel good about not ‘dirtying’ themselves. So be it. But governing and being part of the process and leveraging one’s small amount of influence isn’t about turning one’s nose up and refusing to be part of the sausage-making process. That process is messy, unpleasant, and the sausage never turns out how you want. And it never will, except in your fantasies. I don’t have those fantasies — I just want the sausage to be better than it otherwise would be. That may be a modest goal but it is a realistic one.
Sacrificing better on the altar of perfect may make you feel good. But it doesn’t do shit.
Now, all of this said, I don’t care if you vote or not. It is inevitable, no matter the nominee, that some people will stomp off in a self-righteous snit because their candidate didn’t make the cut. That’s fine. The core of the Democratic coalition are individuals committed to the cause of the left side of the political axis in the inherently two-party system that is the politics of the United States. The hangers-on who can only be bothered to show up when their political egos are being stroked are a fringe that comes and goes — when one bunch leaves, another bunch shows up. Coddling and treating one bunch of “It’s either my candidate or the party gets it!” hostage-takers with deference is pointless. Enjoy your warm fuzzy feelings of purity. But don’t pretend you’re making a difference for those that desperately need the difference between the Democratic Party and the Republican Party.
