The NY Times columnists, a dozen or more, rate the performances of the Democratic candidates as if they are auditioning for a theatrical performance. They answer questions that include ideas, but their responses are judged on body language and seeming sincerity. The ideas are selected from a list of alternatives, and the candidates are given 90 seconds to extemporize on their choice. They are not expected to sustain an argument, or to hear and respond to lines of reasoning from the other candidates.
I remember with fondness an election debate with Mulroney, Broadbent and Turner, the trio I satirized in my play The Beavers. I would have been happy to have had them at our dinner table, discussing with intelligence and insight the issues of the day—in two languages! I disagreed with some of what was said, agreed with some, but overall I was proud that our election was being conducted on that level.
That’s gone now, especially in the US. Some of the candidates are capable of that level of discussion, but they wisely eschew it. They know that only the soundbites matter, and that they deliver them without flinching.
So what? So what if all is fabricated? So what if there is no ground to stand on, no memory beyond yesterday? So what if everyone is entitled to an opinion, and we pick the ones we find most attractive?
Since most of us do not care to live in a real world (although we do), maybe the politician who offers the most attractive fantasy to the greatest number of people should be the one elected.
Reality is that shadowy, ungraspable world that will inevitable determine our fate, but we seem to have given up trying to approach it. Science and philosophy, both fundamentally driven by a commitment to consistency, are increasingly ignored. In their place we have inspiration and invention. In other words (heaven help us), art.