Disturbing behavior in American politics

Cluefon
    By Dan Dudis

You turn on the TV after your alarm goes off. Jerry Springer is on, and you're just in time to catch the questions-from-the-audience segment of the show. A large woman is yelling at some poor loser named Billy Joe. It seems that Billy Joe has been two-timing his girlfriend Lerleen with Tyrice. Lerleen calls Tyrice a "dirty whore." A melée erupts. Shoes fly. And there isn't even a transsexual in sight.

After dinner, you turn on channel eight to catch the nightly news. Peter Jennings is introducing a story about world trade policy. After 30 seconds of background information, the tape cuts to the inevitable man-on-the-street segment. And dear God, is it me, or is that the same large woman from the Springer show complaining that the Mexicans are stealing all our jobs?

Probably not. But the pathetic fact remains: it is often difficult to distinguish between the Springer show's audience members, who are undoubtedly culled from the ascending part of the bell curve, and the men on the street interviewed on the nightly news. Both are loud, opinionated, and, in the case of the world trade example, grossly uninformed.

It is one thing to lambast some scumbag named Billy Joe for cheating on his girlfriend--condemning cheating lovers requires no special knowledge. But it is altogether another thing to discuss trade policy; the average citizen is simply not informed about the complexities of global trade and capital flows. Yet we as a society make no distinction between the two. Americans act as if it is our birthright to hold forth on any topic of our choosing. Charming and innocent enough as this behavior is on the Springer show, it is really quite scary when applied to matters of state.

Case in point: the proposed Constitutional amendment to ban flag burning. This summer I was quite disturbed to read in The New York Times that the Senate was just a few votes shy of the two-thirds majority needed to begin the process of amending the Constitution. Even more alarming was the panel that Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Orrin Hatch had assembled to testify in favor of the bill.

First to speak was Slim-Fast pitch man Tommy Lasorda, who recounted the story of a flag-burning incident at Dodger Stadium. Next up was John Schneider, the Dukes of Hazzard star who had recently recorded a song written by Senator Hatch entitled, "I Love Old Glory." I guess it never occurred to Schneider--who made a living driving around in a car emblazoned with the Confederate flag--that flooding primetime with images of the rebel flag is not exactly the best way to express one's love for Old Glory.

Hypocrisy aside, the point is this: a debate over flag burning should not consist of saccharine patriotisms delivered by a TV pitch man and a washed-up TV star. Rather, it should revolve around Constitutional arguments presented by legal scholars. It is perhaps a uniquely American trait to believe that everyone is equally entitled to opine on any subject, no matter how complicated. Expert opinion is rarely valued, and when it is, the "expert" is usually of dubious qualifications, as in Mr. Lasorda and Mr. Schneider's cases.

Insulated here at Yale in our own little world of experts, I don't think we realize just how out of touch we are with the rest of the country. When free speech or equal rights issues come up in conversation, opponents are often derisively dismissed as "the Right" or "Southerners." But this attitude bespeaks our own ignorance. When Senator Trent Lott likens homosexuality to alcoholism and kleptomania, he is not only speaking for Mississippi, but also for the majority of Americans. John Schneider and Tommy Lasorda speak for 80-plus percent of Americans when they call for a flag burning ban. All 50 state legislatures (save Vermont's) have passed resolutions in favor of the ban.

What to do? Short of moving to Vermont, there is little that can be done in the current system. One possible option would be to increase the number of people we send to college and hope that a higher education would create more tolerant and educated citizens. But there will always be those in the ascending half of the bell curve, the ones who aren't capable of handling college, the ones who go on the Springer show, don't understand trade policy, hate gays, and love the flag (rebel and otherwise).

The only way America will ever solve its myriad problems, social and economic, is by putting more distance between its people and its government. Why not make House terms six years, Senate terms ten, and the President's term eight?

As radical as this idea may seem, our current system of government already indicates that such a plan might be successful in ensuring more intelligent legislation. It is no accident that the House had no trouble finding the two-thirds majority needed to pass the anti-flag burning bill, while the Senate is still short a few votes. Wiser heads often prevail in the Senate because senators' six-year terms insulate them from public opinion. The two-year terms in the House leave Congresspeople susceptible to the whims of an uninformed and uneducated populace. Legislation in the House is often poll-driven. Congresspeople facing reelection every two years are forced to succumb to the latest ideological fads, as the disastrous Contract with America proved.

Our Founders envisioned a democracy which placed government at a healthy distance from the demands of the ignorant masses. They had no way of imagining how much that distance would shrink in today's poll-driven, media-saturated world. Only by recreating that distance between Washington and Main Street can our democracy again function properly. Perhaps then we will finally see some constructive and informed governance. But until we widen this gap, you might as well skip the nightly news and turn on the Springer Show. There won't be much of a difference.

Back to Opinion...