On the eve of the primary election, I thought I should bring to your attention an excellent article I read on vacation. The story — headlined “Is being a congressperson the worst job in America?” — appeared in the most recent edition of City Pages, an alternative weekly in the Twin Cities.
I guess the headline (and the one on the cover, seen at left) rather gives it away: The answer is yes, it is the worst job in America. The article gives eight reasons why the job is so bad, backed up by facts and anecdotes. Here are three of the reasons:
1) Think of your day as a Bataan Death March of meetings.
2) You will beg treasure from complete strangers.
3) You’re only one slip away from national ridicule.
All of which bring up the old question: Why should you vote for anyone deranged enough to want the job?
I’m afraid I can’t answer that. But it does make you wonder about those politicians. The City Pages article leans toward the idea that people run for Congress because of their hideously inflated egos, which make them think that even the horrors of Congress are worth the fleeting fame.
That’s part of it, but there are other reasons, most of them as bad, or even worse. One common motivator these days is a hideously inflated sense of self-righteousness, also known as the Tea Party Effect. People possessed of this mindset think they know exactly what is wrong with everything, and that they possess precisely the right solution for every problem besetting the Republic. And that if you disagree with them, you are a willful idiot. And probably a traitor.
And let’s face it, a lot of politicians apparently run because it seems like the next thing they should do in a career they don’t recall choosing. It’s a lovely spring Monday so I won’t name names, but anyone who follows Montana politics at all closely knows this is no rare breed.
A similar, much more annoying type of politician got started in high school or even elementary school politics because he or she (let’s face it; it’s usually a he) felt an almost religious calling to the profession. This is close to the outsize-ego factor, but it’s a bit different. These guys have simply always loved the mechanics of politics. They love shaking hands, giving speeches, attending meetings and knocking on doors. They even like calling people and asking for money, because that’s an integral part of politics and they love politics.
There is another class of politicians, much smaller in number but rather frightening up close. These politicians consider themselves very moral and upstanding, family men of unquestioned virtue. Except that deep in their hearts they don’t care for their wives or even their children.
So they hope, perhaps without knowing it, that they can be elected as family-values candidates and then go to Washington where they’ll be too busy to see their families, except when needed for photo ops. After a few months or a few years in Washington, laboring so mightly on behalf of the people, they will feel that having a fling with an intern is their reward, one that will not tarnish their family-values badge.
Who else wants the job? Well, every so often a man or a woman of real intelligence and public mindedness wants to sit in the House to make the world a little better place. These folks delude themselves into thinking the soul-searing aspects of such service won’t affect them, or they are so Pollyanna-like that they don’t really believe it has that effect. These people are rarely elected.
I guess I’m feeling pretty cynical today, but see if you don’t feel the same way after reading the whole City Pages article yourself.
