I’ve evolved as a voter as I’ve aged. I write this as another election cycle is upon us and New Mexicans are casting early votes in June’s primary election. Meantime, many of us across the country are preparing for another chaotic presidential election this fall.
Why do I say what I say? Because these days I understand the difference between electoral politics and the politics of governing.
Electoral politics is about winning an election. This is the season in which we find ourselves and what a season it is.
If electoral politics were a movie, it would be the wildly entertaining, unrealistic action adventure flick that gets your blood pumping and pushes you toward the edge of your seat. It’s easy to get carried away by emotion, by the easy-to-digest memes and catchphrases, like Right versus Left, extreme right-wing conservative versus hard-left ideologue. It’s good theater, but it’s as much theater as anything else.
I like election season. It’s just that the old fire in the belly I felt as a younger man when I reported on hotly contested political races, the angrier the better, is at best a burning ember these days.
Governing is where it is at for me these days. Because after 30 plus years of reporting on elections around the country, I realize that elections bask in reflected glory. Their true significance is that they produce a crop of people who tell us as voters that they’re up to debating and, hopefully, coming together to solve problems. This is governing, and governing is much more difficult and consequential than who wins which election, although I acknowledge this year’s presidential election feels consequential.
This realization came to me over much of the last quarter century after observing countless acts of governing up close as a statehouse reporter and editor at two legislatures.
If governing were a movie, it’d be the slow-moving, subtle film that fools you into thinking you’re watching paint dry until you realize beneath the quietness the film is bristling with questions that human beings have engaged with for millennia. How does a large population of people with competing interests live together without constantly bickering, or worse, killing each other? What is fairness? And how do you measure it?
Governing requires serious analysis and hard discussions about what policymakers know and don’t know as they seek a solution that could address a problem. Gone is the facile certitude that so often accompanies campaigning for office. Governing requires building coalitions among lawmakers that include people who always agree, sometimes agree and almost never agree, which means compromising. As importantly, people who govern recognize that despite all their effort, the solution they’ve come up with isn’t a silver bullet. In fact, a likelihood exists that they’ll have to revisit the issue in the future because few solutions work forever.
Governing is hard business. And it is for serious people.
I write this because, like many of you, I am disheartened by the hyper polarization of our elections. It can get so ugly
But elections are not the same as governing.
In fact, I find solace in what I have witnessed as a statehouse reporter and editor over the years. By which I mean countless acts of governing by both Democrats and Republicans, conservatives and progressives — occasions in which I’ve watched political “adversaries” put aside partisan and ideological convictions to work together; the times I’ve noticed politicians who disagree vehemently on issues become friendly, and then friends, as they get to know one another; the instances in which conservative and progressive lawmakers compromise on an important piece of legislation that will anger their partisan and ideological colleagues, not to mention their constituents, but put aside those concerns to work toward what they have determined is the public good.
I know I risk of sounding naive. Yes, the politics of governing can turn ugly, even nasty, too. And I’ve reported on my share of political corruption by both Democrats and Republicans. If anyone should feel cynical, it’s me.
But I have faith in our ability as New Mexicans — and as Americans — to continue to govern whatever happens at the ballot box. To paraphrase a philosopher / theologian I like very much, it’s not so much that I am an optimist, but that I am a prisoner to hope.
Trip Jennings started his career in Georgia at his hometown newspaper, The Augusta Chronicle, before working at newspapers in California, Florida and Connecticut where he reported on many stories. Since 2005, Trip has covered politics and state government for the Albuquerque Journal, The New Mexico Independent and the Santa Fe New Mexican. He holds a Master’s of Divinity from Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. In 2012, he co-founded New Mexico In Depth, a nonpartisan, nonprofit media outlet that produces investigative, data-rich stories with an eye on solutions that can be a catalyst for change.