When was the last time you changed your mind?
Probably not so long ago. Maybe you only thought you wanted that third cup of coffee. Upon reflection, maybe the Rolling Stones aren't the world's greatest rock 'n' roll band. It may just be possible LeBron James isn't a big choker who disappears in crunch time.
That's all right. You're human, you're allowed to make mistakes and entertain new information. You're allowed to learn and grow. So why don't we extend the same benefit of the doubt to politicians?
Sometimes we do. If a politician we generally like is bringing his or her position more in line with with our own, we'll likely welcome the revision. On the other hand, if we don't like the politician we may dismiss it as an act of pandering--a flip-flop. How we perceive the refining of a position probably has as much to do with our own confirmation bias than the specifics of the case.
This is one reason politics seems so frustrating to so many of us; common sense rules don't really apply. Anything you've ever said will be at some point in the future be held against you. (And pleading "But I was drunk!" only makes it worse.)
That's because politics is like real life; it's a highly stylized game played more with rhetoric than with action. No power-seeker can afford to resist the opportunity to use an opponent's own words against them. That's not how the game is played.
Over the years Hillary Clinton has changed her positions on a lot of issues, including gay marriage, gun control, immigration and the Iraq war. This might, in other circumstances, be taken as a symptom of intellectual curiosity. In some instances, more data might indeed have been a catalyst for change. But more often, shifting public opinion probably played a larger role. Maybe America finally caught up with her and she could evince what she believed in her heart all along.
On the other hand, Donald Trump has changed his positions on abortion, the Iraq war, the war in Afghanistan, torturing suspected terrorists, and just about every issue he's addressed in this campaign, including his signature immigration policy. But Trump is a special case; one of the things some people find appealing about him is his lack of intellectual consistency. He's not bound by the conventional rules of engagement. Even his strongest supporters seem to doubt he means everything he says.
Given the evidence of this election, it's difficult to believe that most prospective voters really care much about issues at all; what we seem to care about is finding a potential president with whom we can feel comfortable, or at least tolerate. (Neither HRC or Trump appeals to the majority of Americans as a personality--these are the most disliked presidential candidates in decades, possibly ever.)
In an era when it's possible to find support for any crackpot theory and there's no generally accepted clearinghouse for reality, it's not difficult to see how something as allegedly important as a presidential race could come down to our visceral feelings about the candidates. We can't really know these candidates; perhaps the very living of a hyper-public life extinguishes any authentic self. (And maybe HRC was right when, all those years ago, she advocated for the carving out of a private space. In public, politicians play a character. Offstage, they might be completely different. But we're not entitled to know that.)
Anyway, we really ought to be suspicious of those who never quaver, who keep believing the world is round up until the moment they slide off the edge into oblivion.
Both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton might have trouble passing polygraph tests, but the way we receive these "lies"--an ugly but accurate word--has less to do with our own scruples about truth-telling than how we feel about the fibber. Not all untruths are equal, and what might in another context be regarded as a charming story will be appropriated by one's enemies as a indicator of corruption.
For instance, you've probably heard HRC's "claim" that she was named after the famed explorer Sir Edmund Hillary characterized as a lie because he didn't ascend Mount Everest until the candidate was 6 years old. But think about the circumstances surrounding that story, which HRC told reporters in 1995 after a coincidental meeting with Sir Edmund during a visit to Nepal.
What she said was that her mother had read about the adventurer in 1947 when she was pregnant with the future secretary of state; that she was struck with the less common double "l" spelling of the name.
While this sounds unlikely, it's impossible to prove definitely it didn't happen. Plus it was HRC relating a whimsical story her mother may have told her. Maybe her mother made it up for fanciful reasons, or maybe HRC made it up to amuse and/or flatter the old mountaineer. In any case, it hardly seems important. ("What difference does it make?") Most of us have heard impossible family legends; few of us confront grandma with detailed timelines.
Except that HRC should have known how it would be picked up and used as a club by her enemies. In the eyes of some, the fact she didn't instinctively realize this actually accrues to her credit--she is not a natural politician after all--but if you're inclined to dislike her, it's yet more evidence that she's willing to say whatever she feels most expedient in the moment.
And you're not likely to change your mind about that.
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Philip Martin is a columnist and critic for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at pmartin@arkansasonline.com and read his blog at blooddirtandangels.com.
Editorial on 07/05/2016