Is it ever permissible to abandon one’s principles for political expediency? For many voters at a visceral level, the response is a resounding “no,” that reneging on one’s promises is inexcusable. But when they meet their representative face to face, hoping to hold her accountable, they find themselves cajoled into believing she made a calculated sacrifice in a game of 11-dimensional chess. Sometimes repentant, other times defiant, she confides that she is just as passionate about this issue as her base; it’s the other party and realities on the ground that have forced her hand. Nevertheless, she assures her voters that crumbling in the face of her opponents was somehow a net gain.
Many politicians use such rationale to justify aberrations in their voting record that do not reflect their party’s position on important issues. They frame their decisions as strategic, citing their precarious position in a swing district, their inability to achieve anything for their constituents without ceding ground, their constraints as a member of the opposition, or their aversion to being called a (choose your word). If they had not voted this way, they say, they would have jeopardized their seat, and what’s worse than a flipped seat, right?
This is a specious and pathetic argument, both in the rhetorical sense and otherwise. Although compromise is necessary in politics, it should never require a politician to jettison his core values. Politicians are elected to represent the people, and a failure to stand firm on bedrock issues and hew to the party platform is a dereliction of duty and an act of betrayal. If he does not have the courage to defend his beliefs publicly, that politician has no business representing the public interest. Capitulation in the face of pressure, therefore, is merely an act of self-preservation.
Duplicitous politicians looking to placate a disaffected base — often just before an election — sometimes point to longitudinal data, such as their party’s narrowing margin in the legislature, to justify going rogue. The implication is that if they don’t bend the knee from time to time, they could lose their seat, and the party may lose its majority or, if it’s already in the minority, be relegated to political oblivion. But perhaps this is a case of survivorship bias. Does double-dealing win more voters to one’s party or at least stanch the flow to the other side? Or, just the opposite, does it drive away one’s base, out of the district or state?
This is a question worth taking seriously because the implications are significant. If the offending politician is arguing from a faulty premise, he is working against his voters’ and party’s best interest. A good starting point would be considering whom the politician hopes to persuade with ideological plasticity. With politics so polarized now, it is less likely that many voters will cross party lines even if they prefer — whether consciously or not — the policies of a candidate running on the opposite ticket. That leaves independent voters and, critically, one’s base. If a politician is confident that his ideas are better, he ought to champion them to win over independent voters. Compromising his values to appeal to the lowest common denominator is a foolish bet because he risks alienating his base and, because he is not immune from being primaried, his seat. Worse yet, his erstwhile supporters, feeling hopelessly disenfranchised, could move out of his district or state, creating a vicious cycle of retreat and fewer seats in the legislature.
More importantly, abandoning ground on core issues could over time lead to a reorientation of the left-right spectrum, further radicalizing politics. Weak knees and a slippery slope are a treacherous combination. Rather than compromising for the sake of moderation and to arrest further decline, the party could find itself tumbling headlong over a cliff of empty promises and bromides. If that is a strategy at all, it is a losing one.
Politics is an arena for competing visions. It is also a zero-sum game. If a politician is ashamed of her beliefs, she either doesn’t have much faith in them to begin with or lacks the intestinal fortitude to defend them. Either way, this is disqualifying. Rather than worry how her beliefs would sit with the other side, a politician should in each case judge how her decision squares with her constituents’ values. However, ideological steadfastness should not be mistaken for intransigence and does not preclude one from working with those across the aisle on issues of common interest. But this should always be done with one’s principles in mind.
Marcus Aurelius tells us, “If it is not right, do not do it; if it is not true, do not say it.” Would that our politicians had the wisdom to follow this maxim, which ought to be self-evident.
