I got the idea to host a bipartisan debate party during the Republican National Convention. As I watched the video meant to humanize and reintroduce Gov. Mitt Romney to America, I was surprised to hear the candidate’s friends and family use the word “cheap” over and over to describe him. I immediately sent a Facebook message to my friend Damián, a Libertarian who generally votes Republican. “Why do they keep calling him cheap like it’s a good thing?” I asked. “That’s not an attribute I would generally consider positive.” Damián was shocked at my assertion. “I think a lot of Americans find it positive,” he typed back. “I want my president to be cheap with my money.”
I realized that this difference in opinion — this argument about whether being cheap is a positive or a negative trait — is at the core of this election’s political divide. And I decided that I wanted to explore it further.
So, I devised a plan.
Damián and I would each recruit a group of like-minded friends to come over to my house and watch the second presidential debate. (I chose the second debate because the first one coincided with Creative Loafing’s Best of Charlotte party and, as much as I love to talk politics, an open bar will pretty much trump anything in my book.) Before the start of the debate, we would have our own thoughtful and civil discussion about the election’s biggest issues. Then, we would watch the candidates together and share our thoughts about their performances.
My husband, who had never seen me discuss politics with a right-leaning conservative in a “civil and thoughtful” manner, thought it was a bad idea. He was worried that Damián, a close family friend, would never want to speak to us again after I lost my cool and raised my voice as I generally do when engaged in heated political discourse. I assured him that that would not happen. “This will be an exercise in self-control,” I said. “You’re always telling me that I need to learn to agree to disagree.”
On Oct. 16, eight of us gathered over a plate of empanadas (courtesy of my mother-in-law) and a few six-packs of beer. We discussed issues ranging from immigration to civil rights to education, and we actually managed to do so civilly. Damián and his team argued for small government that leaves decisions about health care, retirement, and even gender and race discrimination up to the individual and the free market. My team and I argued for a more collective society, where government provides a safety net for the poor, defends the civil rights of all persons, and creates opportunities for things like higher education.
After the debate, I’m pretty sure everyone went home with exactly the same ideas and opinions they had coming in.
For several days after the party, I thought about and digested our conversation. My intention had been to hear and understand where the other side is coming from, but also to prove to prove them wrong; to shame them into admitting that they don’t care about their fellow man.
It’s so clear to me that all people should have access to healthcare, that employers should not be allowed to discriminate, and that being generous is a more desirable quality than being cheap, that I was convinced I’d be able to make them see things my way.
I failed.
Damián and his team have a deeply rooted belief in individual liberty. They aren’t racist and don’t think that poor people should die on the street without access to health care. They just don’t think the government should meddle in these matters. Individuals should come together and help the poor. Individuals should decide to not patron private businesses that discriminate. Individuals should be responsible for saving for their own retirement.
It’s a lovely idea that’s based on the assumption that all, or at least most individuals, are innately compassionate. Unfortunately, our nation’s history — from slavery to North Carolina’s recent approval of Amendment One — simply does not support it. Damián’s notion that most Americans see being cheap as a positive trait doesn’t help either.
Still, it’s hard to declare that the other side is wrong when the central crux of your argument is: people, as a whole, can’t be trusted. I hate that notion. I want to believe that most people are good and caring.
It’s been over a week, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around what I learned from the experience. The only conclusion I’ve been able to come up with has nothing to do with politics. It’s a very personal one.
If I want to believe that most people are good and caring, if I want the concept of “love thy neighbor” to be a driving force in our society, the only person I can persuade is me. And when it comes to politics, I get a much bigger thrill from shaming the other side than from arguing that my opinion is right. And that’s not a very good, or caring, or loving attitude.
I will still be voting for the president. And I still believe that the government should play a role in health care, people’s welfare and education. I think that, considering the society we live in, government intervention is the only way to ensure that the poor and marginalized don’t go hungry or die from preventable diseases. For me, it’s incredibly important to live in a country that promotes equal opportunity and punishes those who discriminate. In a country with a leader who considers being generous a desirable trait.
I will continue to defend these ideas.
But I will also stop trying so hard to prove the other side wrong.
This article appears in Oct 17-23, 2012.
Its hard to prove the other side wrong when history and reality have already proven YOU wrong
I think your understanding of the word “cheap” in this context may be flawed. I do not believe Mitt Romney’s friends and family were describing him as cheap when it came to his generosity for the benefit of others but rather in how he spent money on himself and his family. I believe he in fact has the desirable “generous” trait that you desire…. he donated $7 million to charity in the past two years. This amounts to the Romneys donating about 16.4%of their adjusted gross income in the past two years (for comparison, the Obamas have reportedly donated between 1-5% of their adjusted gross income).
Rather than needing a leader who considers being generous a desirable trait, we need a leader who is generous and yet still strategic when it comes to spending.
In a beautifully written column, Ailen, you prove why your worldview is the thoughtful, measured, compassionate one, and in one brief, mean-spirited comment, Christopher Joose Loosely Stalcup proved why today’s right wing is so terribly unkind, unjust, unthoughtful and ultimately… un-American. Thanks, as always, Ailen, for your beacon of light in the dark tunnel we live in today.
Helen, I think your understanding of “charity” in this context may be flawed. According to Politico, the Romneys gave 29.4 percent of their income to charity in 2011, while the Obamas gave 21.8 percent of their income to charity. So yes, Romney’s given a bit more than Obama, but he has amassed a personal fortune of over $200 million while the Obamas make less than a million a year.
Still, Romney has the right to give as much as he wants to whoever he wants. “Whoever” happens to be the Mormon Church. In 2009 and 2010, 80% of Romney’s charitable giving went to the church. Consider that a Mormon in good standing is expected to tithe 10% of his gross income to the church, and Romney’s generosity looks less and less generous.
This is, by the way, the same Mormon Church that contributed $30 million of the $42 million raised to pass California’s Proposition 8 which banned same sex marriage, a political cause you may agree with, but hardly a “charitable” action. In addition, through the Romney family’s Tyler Foundation, Romney has donated to right wing anti-gay groups. One, The Becket Fund for Religious Liberty, compared gay rights activists to al Qaeda.
Rather than a leader who’s generosity is more about looking out for the interests of himself and his own, we need a leader who’s concerned with the interests of all Americans.
Not just Mr. Romney, but Americans in general. How much do Americans of any political leaning contribute to charity if you remove the giant business of churches from the definition of charity? How much do you think it would effect donations if charitable and political donations were not tax deductible? When you donate to charity in order to reduce your tax liability, you are actually donating tax money to the charity.
Our incredibly convoluted and incomprehensible tax code is the result of politicians using the tax code to control conduct instead of using it to raise the money that the government needs to run.
FYI DLP, political donations are NOT tax deductible. Only charitable donations to a registered 501(c)(3) organization are tax deductible.
The number of people that disliked Helen’s mild post just shows how biased you folks are for Obama.