LIBERTY RISING

When I was a kid, my Sunday school teachers often referred to an entire class of people described in the four Gospels: the scribes, priests, temple officials, even the Jewish Sanhedrin, who always seemed to turn out against Jesus. 

I have to confess I never really understood it. 

It took years—and a lot of life experience—for me to grasp what organized groups (religions; societies) and institutionalized systems look like up close, and what they really do.

I don’t think I have to tell you it’s usually not pretty.

Whether it’s Penn State or politics, there’s always a reason why the masses never can quite fathom why what’s being done behind closed doors is actually being done, in spite of popular outrage or even votes at the ballot box. That’s because, to paraphrase Ronald Reagan—and in direct contradiction to our common sense and decency as citizens, as neighbors, as people—the first order of business for any entity, whether it’s a government agency, a church, or an NGO is to ensure its own survival. Self-preservation is job #1, anything else (including public sentiment or something as laughable as the “will of the people”) be damned.

Of course, thanks to The Godfather films, we all know that the Mafia has “Omerta”:  their own, lethally-enforced code of silence. And as all good watchers of Law and Order know, the police have their “Thin Blue Line”, which officers will not cross even when one of their own is corrupt. What only occasionally gets peeled back, however, is the fact that universities, colleges, athletic programs, charities and political parties also tailor their own versions of the gangster’s creed of “snitches get stitches.”

There are the endless urgings for inspectors general or internal investigations only, for folks to “keep it in the family”, for members of one party not to “air their dirty laundry in public”, for members of a denomination to basically take vows of silence about what’s being done in their name. These, along with the various incumbent-protection programs sponsored at the organized, partisan county committee level all the way to the state party level (not to mention the national committees) are powerful barriers to real change ever being able to take place, at least in electoral politics.

Because anything or anyone who threatens real change is a threat to the system. To the Powers That Be. To the carefully cultivated and nurtured-over-the-years hierarchy that allows those who are kings of a particular hill to stay there, cries for reform or for an end to the insular status quo continually being ignored all the while.

But these Death Stars all around us weren’t built in a day. And even with a Luke Skywalker on our side (a liberal champion; a conservative champion; a libertarian champion), they won’t be destroyed overnight. There’s a reason why widespread change is almost always viewed as radical (elsewhere morphing into revolution), and why even the most ardent believers in the possibilities today for things like social media, dissemination of information and high levels of citizen involvement in the process are so often humbled once faced with the entrenched inertia of Washington, D.C. (Washington used here as shorthand for national politics). 

The game of governing (which you only get to play after winning the game of campaigning) is unlike any other business, commercial, or entertainment venture in our country. And the pipeline for which candidates even get to audition to be the American Idol is quasi-controlled by a quasi-professional class of political operatives (full disclosure: I’ve been one) who attempt to limit the public’s access, pick winners and losers in the media, and influence electoral outcomes, often based on their own narrow and self-serving interests. 

Take a listen to Jack Abramoff these days in interviews or in his book. Or pick up Lisa Baron’s Life of the Party for the ultimate snapshot of the soulless political climber (caution: it’s graphic).  Too frequently, winning an election simply means a faster path to a corner office for the prescient campaign staffer who joined at the right time (see: George Stephanopolous), a high-paying lobbying or public relations job after their brief stint in “public service” under an elected official, or a nice line on the biography to be read before speeches in front of breathless groups impressed by the individual’s previous proximity to movers and shakers.

Which is a real problem. Mounds have been written about the need to get the money out of politics. Most of what people are complaining about when they say that as far as I can tell could be solved with a simple prohibition against former staffers working anywhere in the field for five years. Political “juice”, after all, has a shorter shelf-life than raw milk.

But precious little gets said about why entire blocs of people—partisan or independent—get so swiftly moved down the stream of the status quo every single cycle. 

Maybe it’s because of Maslow and our basic human need for order—regardless of whether that order is actually good for us. We all seem to want to codify power, to institutionalize, well, institutions…to just burrow in and find the tiny cog we’re supposed to be in this great big machine that not only doesn’t punish, but also actually celebrates criminals and liars, while crucifying the most blameless among us.

I for one am tired of being a customer of Power, Incorporated.