Vote Like Thoreau

The slow, day-by-day inebriated stumble through the election season has been a maddening comedy of errors. It is ridiculous. It is depressing. It is undeniably real. And the hand-wringing from all corners of the country and the "what can I do" barrage of self and societal questioning has dominated all water cooler conversations in my water cooler-less life.

Of particular interest to me has been the muddled response from Christians, primarily those who feel the need to speak to and for the "Evangelical voting block" that is often (though less so now) coveted by major party candidates. It is both damning and comical to watch the "yeah, but . . ." doctrine of morality that makes a mockery of good and evil by trading it in for an argument of degrees of harm one candidate will do versus the other. No matter how ugly, how hateful, how denigrating the message, some in the Christian community cling to the battle-cry of "but at least it's not as bad as what a former president who is not now running for president did two decades ago." They sing the praises of the hog confinement they sleep in as they hold their nose in their daily hike past their neighbor's manure pile.

So what is one to do? Based on the conversations I am a part of and around in this never-ending political nightmare, the question seems to be one of how to vote. We talk, and we talk, and we talk, and soon there must be a mark on a sheet of paper that we can put our name next to. We complain, loudly. We laugh, and we watch Saturday Night Live sketches, and we watch debates wondering just what will happen next. We express disdain and hopelessness. We slowly approach election day. What should we do?

I found an answer of sorts while teaching Thoreau's essay "Resistance to Civil Government" in my American Lit course this week. In it Thoreau challenges his readers to stand up for the morals they believe in, as he has by not paying taxes in protest of the Mexican War and the slave trade. The essay is famous for its direct connections to the Civil Rights Movement and Ghandi's nonviolent civil disobedience. It is extreme in spots, but I suppose all foundational pieces of literature are.

But I found a few relevant gems as I read it this time around in the untenable situation so many of us find ourselves in. In one passage, Thoreau writes, "Even voting for the right is doing nothing for it." He adds later, "Cast your whole vote, not a strip of paper merely."

Here I see wisdom and a challenge. In these words, Thoreau makes clear that the most monumental decision we have to make is not in how to vote. Instead, it's in how to live. Voting might be a statement of belief, but it pales in comparison to the statement of every day action. Our whole vote - our leisure and our money and our education and our time - those matter far more than the flawed holder of the office of President of the United States.

If one candidate cannot be trusted, and the other causes harm and embarrassment with every "honest" statement he utters, then we must look to ourselves. It is easy to speak about our disappointment in the direction of the discourse and politics of our country. But what do our actions say? How do we spend our time and money and emotion? On reality TV? On being entertained? Do we question the intelligence of our candidates at the same time we choose not to learn and grow and become educated in the values we claim to profess? Do we bemoan lying while telling half-truths to ourselves and others, always pardoning it away with excuses of convenience? Are we disgusted by the power-hungry, say-anything, win-at-all costs approach and yet chase the quickest path to victory, to promotion, to attention? Do we mock a candidate's Twitter idiocy and live on our own Twitter account more than a newspaper?

I know I don't share the same position as everyone. Perhaps not even most. But from this seat it looks like we will all lose in November, no matter what; and our whole votes, not just our paper ones, have put us here. Doug Wilson, in the most intriguing article on the election I've read, writes that "We have met the enemy, and he is us. . . We all pretend to be shocked, shocked, by something that we have allowed to become an acceptable mainstream standard."

The real question is not one of voting. Not paper voting anyway. It is not how bad are these candidates, but rather what in them do I see in me? Perhaps when these are the questions being examined, we will quit excusing the inexcusable, comparison-shopping for morality, and laughing at what is not funny. Instead, we will cast our whole vote.