Someone once said that winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing. Another person stated that there is no honor in second place; yet another man contended that the only thing to be valued about second place is that it tells you where you stand—just a bit below the person who took first place.
In politics, the erudite elite and the occasional ‘self-made’ man join to shape our country’s destiny. Our leaders are elected, not born, into politics and all too frequently we hear about one candidate’s sex scandal and another’s misappropriation of funds. One party cheers while another party hangs its head in shame, only to shout in triumph as its rival accepts the next disgrace. What does this say of our ability to choose virtuous candidates? And if virtuous citizens (as many of us like to believe we are) elect virtuous candidates, then perhaps many of us are not so virtuous.
Therefore I must wonder, what would happen if we elected candidates on the basis of virtue? What would such a world look like? Of course, there would have to be a degree of relevance to the virtue. Simply rescuing a cat out of a tree would prove rather redundant to one’s presidential or even gubernatorial campaign. Donations to various organizations would also have to be redundant as well; such could be mistaken easily for a bribe. If candidates had to prove their virtue, perhaps we would look for courage. And if we Americans chose courage, for example, what sort of courage would we prize above the rest? For many would argue that there are different kinds of courage. Would we prize the courage in battle? Or the courage to do what is right? And what about the courage to stand up for one’s beliefs isn’t that too, important? But then, what if our beliefs are corrupted or fallible? Would we judge one another based a hierarchy of virtues, with certain virtues better than others, and if so, how can we be certain that our judgment of a certain virtue against other virtues is correct? Or rather, would we judge one another based on the sum of all virtues? Is it better to have a man in power that is a little more courageous than honest? Or a man a little more honest than he is courageous?
Picture a country easily divided for the single reason that certain virtues are esteemed more. That isn’t too hard to imagine, for we already occupy such a land. ‘Liberals’ value tolerance more than is safe, while ‘conservatives’ ignore social ills in their quest to stamp them out—and both are intolerant enough not to cooperate with one another.
Second place for a party means four long years that they have to strive against—not cooperate with—its successful opponents. What this means for Americans: more lobbying, more promises, and still more lobbying. We elect not on virtue, but on promise. Many times we are used by the same special interest groups which have advocated for us in past years. These groups seem to have lost concern for those they represent. These groups agitate our emotions to sway us, and we, the people, are no longer in control—not even of our own vote. We fall victim to Jacobean guile, and like Esau, we trade our birthright for a plate of food. Poetic justice is served: in our hunger for our own self-interests, we end up worse off than before. At least Esau had the sense to be irate; we do not even know the difference.
For the incoming party, second place means four long years to denounce all the evils of the previous party, and to ensure that its predecessor is utterly bereft of power. When this once-heralded party fails to produce a candidate, or through arrogance drives desperate Americans into the arms of the rival party, the former lies amid defeat and ruin. Outside of the new party of salvation, the drama queens and kings of pop culture rant and cast blame, hoping to relish in the failure of the victor.
Such is the American scene.
I, for one, certainly do not hope for the failure of the president. I do not hope for the failure of the governor, nor of the senators and house—both federal and state. There can be no salvation in either, or perhaps more properly, any party. The president is not supposed to represent me and my welfare, but rather, the welfare of the American people. If I hope for the president to fail, or any other member of government, solely for the advancement of my own party (and hence, my power), then I am a tyrant in the making, and I have no goodwill for my fellow citizens.
Even now, the famous words of Abraham Lincoln resound, much like a bell tolling, tolling, “A house divided cannot stand.” O, how long?
So, while the once powerful are ushered out to lick their wounds in private, and the newly elected are ushered in with laud, I keep in mind that this, too, shall repeat itself. It is both a warning and a solace, yes, that this is but a cycle; may we cherish the good dearly, and the bad, may God forbid it, may it be erased and undone with the next cycle. And yet, what is good and what is bad? While it is necessary, for order and reality’s sake, for justice to triumph, and good prevail, that there is an absolute standard of morality, our own perspectives of what is ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are often perverse, and at best follow selfish latitudes. Is it not so that we consider that which makes us happy as ‘good’ and that which disappoints us is ‘evil.’
We often hope to triumph not actually for the well-being of the whole, but for the part, whether pursuing good for own self or those who helped us to greatness. We hope to come in first not for the sake of the race and for all it signifies, but for the trophy which awaits us at the end—and that moment which is about us. Sometimes we cheat to win. Sometimes we take steroids, or we push the runner next to us. And yet, we believe we are qualified to elect officials, and are shocked when their actions mirror our own. Such a thought makes me think that while it is good to strive for first, our strivings must not push us to do that which is not good, that which is immoral and ill-gained. If we have run the race and after having given it our greatest, and still arrived in second place, let us accept second place graciously, and shake the hand of the runner ahead of us if even by an inch, as he is presented with his trophy.
If only we pause and think—life is not so much about the trophy as it is the way in which we run the race—perhaps we will have fuller, better lives, and a better government, too.
