Debate Is Good For Our System

We certainly have a quarrelsome Congress. In recent weeks its members have been arguing about funding children's health insurance, whether to assert that the Turks committed World War I-era genocide against the Armenians, and what sort of energy policy should guide the nation. Then there's the ongoing issue of the Iraq war, the constant debate over how to fix our health care system, and any number of other dustups and outright policy brawls that seem to take place every time you look in on a committee room or chamber on Capitol Hill.

A lot of people don't like this. Pretty much every time I address an audience, someone complains, "I'm sick and tired of all the bickering. Those guys are always fighting." And everyone around will nod.

Most people are uncomfortable with disagreement and debate. As individuals, this is fine; but as citizens, I would argue that we should not only get used to it, we should be pleased by it. It has been a constant in American politics, and let us hope it always will be.

Extensive debate is written into the very structure of our congressional system. At every level, from subcommittees through committees to the floor of each chamber and then to the conference committees that bring members from each house of Congress together, there is the presumption of discussion, debate, disagreement and even argument. Our Founders understood the importance of conflict in the system, both as a way for all views to be represented, and as a process for building common ground among them.

For the fundamental fact of our democracy is that Americans, despite all that unites us, nonetheless have much that divides us: different philosophies, different prospects in life, different backgrounds, different communities, different ways to define what is in our self-interest, what is in our community's interest, and what is in our nation's best interest.

It's true that these divisions can be exacerbated by special interests, the media, and politicians all seeking to exploit them to their own ends, but that doesn't mean the initial differences don't exist. They do. And it is Congress's job to sort through them as it strives to find the majorities it needs to move forward on legislation. If there weren't conflict, Congress wouldn't be doing its job.

There are certainly times when the conflict built into our system gets out of hand, and the people involved become mean-spirited or angry. But overall, disputation and debate are not a weakness of our democracy, they're a strength. They lead to better, more sustainable decisions. They help to build majority support for a proposal. And they are part of how we talk to one another as we search for common ground.

Let me give you an example. Over the years in Washington, there has been much discussion about whether the nation ought to have a single director of national intelligence. I was initially quite skeptical about the value of reorganizing our intelligence community to impose such a position. Then, however, I served as co-chair of the 9/11 Commission. We had long, sometimes very pointed debates about how our intelligence system was working, and by the end I'd come to the conclusion that the only way to obtain the sharing of intelligence information our country needs was to centralize authority in a single directorate. In other words, I changed my mind because of our debates.

The same thing is constantly taking place in Congress. Some issues are extremely difficult to resolve. They take years of wrangling, arguing, and debate simply for members to find enough common ground so they can move forward. It helps to look past the often messy process and judge Congress by the end results. The minimum-wage bill that passed earlier this year; how best to shape our homeland security system; how to structure children's health insurance - all of these have been subject to heartfelt and sometimes quite contentious disputes over the years, but in the end, Congress reaches a conclusion and we move on.

Indeed, I believe that we are stronger for the sometimes difficult road Congress has to travel as it searches for solutions to the challenges that confront us. For a strong debate means that all sides get a chance to be heard and have their arguments weighed. It means that there is less chance that power will be concentrated to the point of stifling our voices. Keep in mind that the most efficient and conflict-free political system is a dictatorship.

So let's not expect Congress to be free of disagreement and contention. The better approach is to manage the debate so it is civil, inclusive, serious and constructive. Yes, Congress sometimes has trouble managing itself, but that is a far better problem than if our system allowed for no conflict at all.

Audio Version

This Is A Good Time To Talk To Politicians

With the 2008 elections a bit over a year away, you're probably already girding for an onslaught of advertising, campaign pitches and telephone calls. But here's a thought I hope has also occurred to you: Turnabout is fair play. This is a perfect time for you to seek the attention of people who are going to be asking for your vote, so that you can tell them what's on your mind and how you hope to be represented.

There's a simple truth about election campaigns that you should remember. The closer they get to the moment when voters go to the polls, the less flexible they become. By next spring, candidates will have made up their minds about what issues they're going to stress and what they think will resonate with the electorate. The campaigns themselves will have become much more about tactics, strategy and responding to events, and much less about listening.

That hasn't happened yet. At the moment, in the fall before an election year, the candidates truly want to know what you're thinking - and as someone who ran in 34 elections over the years, let me assure you that they really are paying attention.

Why is this? For one thing, as an election approaches, anybody who wants to be a candidate - this includes incumbents and challengers alike - is trying to gauge the mood of the electorate.

They want to know what people think about specific issues, of course: their views on the Iraq War, or how we should be confronting our broken health-care system, or whether No Child Left Behind should be renewed.

But even more important, they want to get a sense of how voters are feeling about the direction of the country, the politicians who represent them, the role of government in their lives. They want to know whether voters are angry or contented, generally pleased with their representatives or determined to clean house, willing to put their confidence in a party or leery of Democrats and Republicans alike.

And they want to plumb the reasons behind that mood, whether they can do anything about it, and whether they can come up with proposals that might either help assuage or give expression to what they're hearing from voters.

This is not pandering. It's how our system is supposed to work. Elections are how we make sure our concerns get reflected in Washington, and the only way to do this is to express them to politicians who are stumping for our votes and see how they respond.

Likewise, exchanges on the stump allow politicians to test their own ideas, articulate their beliefs and proposals, and in general gauge the response to notions that might eventually become themes for their campaigns - and beyond. This is the time when the two-way conversation that lies at the heart of our democracy is at its loosest and most free-flowing.

In this cynical age, I suppose, there are plenty of people who think that politicians, especially once they get elected, listen only to lobbyists and big-time contributors and are uninterested in what ordinary people have to say. The truth is, though, politicians understand all too well that most lobbyists and big-time contributors don't vote for them. Their constituents do.

There are any number of ways to get in touch with the people who represent you, or would like to. You can certainly write a letter, send emails, or make a phone call. Yet my own belief is that the most effective way to get your views across is in person - over a cup of coffee, in a respectful exchange at a campaign event, by dropping by a candidate's office or when he or she is out campaigning and rings your doorbell, even in a quick conversation in a café where a candidate happens to show up.

That's why these next few months are so important. The candidates are listening for what you have to say right now. Let them know.

Audio Version

Some Kind Words for Politicians

It feels like an almost weekly occurrence now. Something happens on Capitol Hill — the debate over our way out of Iraq, for instance — and before you know it, commentators are wrinkling their noses about politicians.

I’ve spent the better part of my life among politicians, and I know their shortcomings. Some of them engage in so much spin they lose sight of the truth; many stretch the bounds of what it takes to win an election, or they cater, if not pander, to influential or well-heeled interest groups; pretty much all of them spend a lot of time in a demeaning chase after campaign funds. There have also been plenty of examples of politicians who let the country and their constituents down, going to jail for corruption or resigning because of misbehavior you wouldn’t want your children reading about. I grant the critics all of that.

Yet here’s what I remember as well: My very first year in Congress, I voted in favor of creating Medicare. That program was crafted by politicians, and in the decades since then it has helped countless older Americans get much-needed health care. Was that an ignoble thing? Should the GI Bill, the creation of the land-grant college system, the interstate highway system or other landmarks of congressional action ignite our disdain because they were shaped by politicians? Should we be excoriating those pols on Capitol Hill for voting every year to back research into disease, or for funding the national parks, or for looking over the executive branch’s shoulder to be sure it acts in a way that does justice to Americans’ expectations?

My point is not that politics is filled with selfless, honorable individuals heading for sainthood. Like any profession, it has its good practitioners and its bad. But it is time to temper public scorn for politicians with a little reality.

The simple truth is, some of our greatest national heroes were politicians — think of the example George Washington set as our first president, or of Abraham Lincoln. This nation would have long since come apart at the seams without the skills of political leaders. Today, in a country so filled with diversity and the clamor of loud and insistent voices, without the ability of politicians at every level to listen to all those voices, find areas of common interest, look for creative solutions, forge compromise and convince their constituents to move forward, our daily lives would be far more chaotic and we could even confront anarchy.

The few who misbehave draw headlines and attention, but my experience is that most politicians are well-intentioned, hard-working people who are trying to do what they perceive to be in the best interests of their communities and the nation. They can be an ambitious, hard-driving, energetic breed, but my view is that it is possible to live greatly, even nobly, in politics — and many politicians do.

They do it in small, everyday ways, by helping people resolve problems that might mean little to others — a lost Social Security check, a missing relative overseas, a dangerous intersection nearby — or by guiding them through bureaucratic systems they need help negotiating.

They do it in bigger ways, by trying to educate their constituents about the issues that confront us and crafting legislation to deal with them. And they do it in perhaps the most important way imaginable, by trying to create and maintain a political and social environment that is secure, safe, free and stable, one in which all of us can pursue our own interests.

“I must study politics and war,” John Adams wrote to his wife, Abigail, “that our sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy…[and] give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music…” At their best, that is what politicians do. They sustain the framework in which Americans go about their lives and do their best to improve it, so that our children and grandchildren can thrive.

Sure, go ahead and heap scorn on politicians, and say they pursue a less-than-noble profession. But from time to time, let’s also remember to thank the many who carry on their difficult work with skill, integrity, and deep concern for the common good.

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Why Isn’t Congress More Efficient?

There are any number of reasons the public standing of the United States Congress rests at historic lows. Chief among them, I believe, is the widespread conviction that Congress simply can’t get much worthwhile done: not on Iraq, not on health care, not on any of the myriad issues that perplex and trouble the average American.

Wander into any conversation on the topic and you’ll get an earful about why this is so: too much partisanship; too much arguing for argument’s sake; too many special interests; too much political division in the country. One thing you’re unlikely to hear, though, is the mundane but inarguable truth that Congress simply isn’t set up to be efficient. It moves by inches for a very good reason — it was designed for deliberation, not speed.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There really is too much destructive partisanship on Capitol Hill. There are too many people in Congress who confuse their party’s talking points for productive debate. Capitol Hill can find itself so hemmed in by lobbyists and the expectations of campaign donors that progress becomes impossible. And when the country is up for grabs with divided government and a near-even split in the Congress, making progress is tough.

Yet it is also true that by its very nature, Congress is inefficient — and though we might be disappointed sometimes that it can’t act faster, in general we’re better off as a result.

Think about how Congress was designed by our Founders. They wanted to ensure that the body was representative of the American people, and that it provided a forum for reasoned exploration of the issues besetting the nation — in other words, they wanted reflection and deliberation before action. So they created the Senate and the House, which not only provide two different means of representing the country, but also require that everything happen twice.

Each piece of legislation must move through subcommittees and committees in both houses, must go through both rules committees, must be debated on the floor of both chambers, must go through a conference committee and get final approval in both chambers, and then must go before the President. This is an arduous trek for a bill, and it makes for an endless variety of ways in which legislation can be amended or stopped outright. It also, however, provides an opportunity to consider thoroughly the implications and potential effects of each potential law.

Beyond its structure, Congress is an immensely complex institution. Power there is dispersed — to leadership, to committee chairs and ranking minority members, to members acknowledged to be experts in a particular field, to especially successful fundraisers. Then the Senate adds a layer of complexity: There, the ability to filibuster a measure means that effectively it takes 60 votes, not a simple majority, to pass legislation on controversial topics. This is an extremely high bar.

Moreover, Congress’ very representativeness is at once its greatest strength and its greatest weakness. This is now such a diverse nation that the assumptions about public policy prevailing in a congressional district in Utah or Mississippi will be very different, if not diametrically opposite, from those you’d find in Los Angeles or much of New England. Congress is where those varied points of view must grapple with one another, and where all the many private interests at play in the country, those with money and those with nothing but moral suasion, get their say. Every member is impressed with the sheer number and intensity of the lobbyists.

It’s hardly surprising that it can take a while to sort all this out, especially in the House, whose members must stand for election every two years and who therefore are always keenly attuned to the political calendar.

To get a sense of what can happen when Congress does act speedily, look no further than the law authorizing National Security Agency surveillance that was passed just before the August recess. It was only after the bill had been signed into law that many members of Congress learned they’d given the NSA much more expansive warrantless surveillance powers than they’d believed. Likewise, recall the shock of members when they learned that in just its first decade the Medicare prescription bill was going to cost hundreds of billions of dollars more than they’d been led to believe. These bills were hurried through Congress at such a pace that they never got the detailed consideration they needed.

The truth is, Congress deals with the toughest issues in the country. Its job is to understand them thoroughly, weigh the beliefs and interests of an astounding variety of Americans, and consider carefully how to move forward. Passion and speed are not conducive to good legislation; on the whole, we want to use the brakes on the process provided by the Constitution and by congressional structure.

The next time you complain about the sluggishness of Congress, think about it. It’s not all bad.

Audio Version

We Need Candidates With Good Judgment

All over the country, political candidates, consultants, reporters, campaign volunteers, and politically active citizens are pondering a single question: What do voters want in a candidate? Will voters be motivated in next year's elections by issues, personalities or some intangible mix of qualities in the candidates they're considering?

Every voter makes up his or her mind differently, of course, but my suspicion has always been that most voters weigh a mix of considerations; the true "single-issue voter" is rare. To be sure, they want to know candidates' stands on the issues they care about — how they articulate them and what they consider most important. They also want to get a sense of the candidates' overall vision and where they want to take us as a nation, how they see the role of the federal government at home and whether they propose a muscular or more restrained foreign policy.

They look for less tangible things as well, qualities that would make them comfortable with a candidate. Voters generally want a sense that a candidate knows why he or she is running for office — and in particular, that it has to do with a desire to accomplish goals or to improve the common good, rather than simply to slake some personal ambition.

Voters also want to feel good about a candidate's values, intelligence, and sensitivity to their concerns. This is why candidates who are masters of statistics and dense policy arguments sometimes leave voters cold, while candidates who can present a compelling "story" attract attention and support.

Over the years, poll after poll has suggested that voters put "integrity" and personal honesty at the top of their requirements in a candidate. My sense is that other concerns come higher. If voters like what a politician stands for or find some deeper personal connection, they can forgive a lot: Witness the re-election of Richard Nixon in 1972 or the high poll numbers Bill Clinton enjoyed despite questions about his personal conduct.

One such consideration, generally dismissed by pundits but clearly embraced by voters, is simple likability. Americans want to feel at ease with the person they're voting for. And while they won't admit it, at least not to pollsters, they take physical attractiveness into account, as a string of handsome presidents in the television age — John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan, both Bushes, Bill Clinton — suggests.

But I have always thought that perhaps the most important trait in a political leader is invisible, or at least difficult to discern ahead of time: sound judgment. It often gets confused for intelligence, but intelligent people can misjudge affairs if they're led astray by ideology, dogmatic thinking, or even good intentions.

On the other hand, you can often tell if candidates lack good judgment: If they are unable to be wary of their own passions, inclined to dismiss other views, unsuspecting of the information they receive, or unwilling to admit that their views might be wrong, then it's a good bet they will mishandle people, events and the difficult situations that confront our nation regularly.

A great deal is at stake in this regard. Historians note, for instance, that while George Washington was neither a good speaker nor a scintillating intellect, he possessed very good judgment about people and events. The course of our nation's history would surely have been different had he been otherwise.

Good political judgment calls for a keen sense of what will work and what won't in a given set of circumstances, and what the best means might be to achieve policy goals — in essence, it requires that leaders see the world as it is, not as they would like it to be. It demands great insight into others: who is competent and who is not, who will speak the truth to them and who will not, whom to believe and whom not to believe, who will persevere and who will fold.

It demands equally keen insight into complex situations and events, and an ability to discern possibilities for progress that others might miss. Finally, it requires a keen sense of what can be accomplished given the personalities and events in play: when to compromise, when to yield, and when to stand firm.

It is probably expecting too much that voters will be able to see all this as they go about choosing whom to vote for. But we can certainly hope they will try.

Audio Version

Why Is Congress So Partisan?

Early in my career in the U.S. House, I trekked over to the Senate side one day to watch a debate between Hubert Humphrey and Barry Goldwater, two of the great ideological warriors of the era. I don’t recall the issue, but I do remember the heat they generated as they went at each other hammer and tongs. They were knowledgeable, passionate, and deeply committed to their vastly different points of view.

I remember just as keenly what happened after they’d tried to eviscerate each other rhetorically: They joked together as they left the floor, heading off to have a drink.

I have a hard time imagining such a scene in today’s Washington, where a moment of camaraderie like that might be viewed with deep suspicion, as though personal friendship somehow undercuts ideological integrity. In the intensely partisan atmosphere that reigns today on Capitol Hill, it is much less common for two legislators to pursue their beliefs with such intensity of purpose, yet remain fast friends or work together when their interests coincide.

Americans of all stripes have noticed this, too, and they don’t like it. The partisanship that divides Congress, and its members’ apparent inability to transcend their divisions, is one important reason the institution’s public standing is at historic depths.

How did we get here? In part, the answers lie in a series of long-term political trends that have converged to create this current unhappy mood.

For one thing, computers have enabled state legislators — or members of Congress eager to dictate to them — to draw congressional district lines that create safely Democratic or Republican districts. The result is that politicians running for the U.S. House don’t have to appeal to the center to win, they need to appeal to the core of their parties’ supporters.

This has happened at the same time that the parties themselves have moved toward their ideological extremes, pushed by the interest groups that fund and try to influence them. As members become spokesmen for particular points of view, their positions take on a harder edge, since they are playing to potential campaign funders or to an interest group whose supporters’ votes they need at election time. The upshot is that moderate Democrats and Republicans are the exception in office these days, not the rule.

The sad truth, though, is that the electorate, too, is divided, which manifests itself at the moment in a Congress that is narrowly controlled by one party and faces a President of the other. Over the last decade, each party has been struggling to become the majority party, and so every vote on Capitol Hill has taken on heavily partisan implications, since the leadership hopes that by taking the position it does — and forcefully encouraging rank-and-file members to go along — it will pick up a few extra seats at the next election. This invites partisan struggle.

These political trends have been cemented by changes within Congress. If it is hard to find moderates there, it is even harder to find institutionalists — people who worry about the role of Congress as a separate and independent branch of government and who focus on strengthening Congress as an institution. Preoccupation with partisanship and political calculation erodes Congress’ role as a deliberative body; “debate” these days is generally two sets of talking points hammering at each other, rather than a genuine effort to reach consensus on the best course for the American people to follow.

Even something as mundane as the congressional schedule now works in favor of partisanship. As their time on Capitol Hill has come to focus on committee hearings, floor debate and other opportunities for confrontation, and as their weekends now are often taken up with travel back to their states to meet with constituents, members of Congress in recent years have found far fewer opportunities to develop the kinds of friendships that cross party lines — and that produced such close friends as Humphrey and Goldwater.

These are all deep-seated trends, and they are not easy to reverse. My hope, oddly enough, lies in the low standing Congress currently enjoys. For all its faults, it does respond to public pressure, and if enough Americans let their members know that they’re unhappy with the intense partisanship they see, change will come.

Perhaps it will be a move in some states to abandon partisan redistricting and move to some more neutral way of drawing lines; perhaps it will simply be a change in attitude and a greater emphasis on Capitol Hill on careful deliberation and comity, or greater respect for the institution of the Congress. Whatever the case, even little moves in the right direction would be an improvement over the situation as it stands today.

Audio Version