Almost everybody—besides the Montgomery hospitality industry—was surely relieved to see the recent legislative session end. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since 2002, when I entered the political world as a freshman legislator.
During that first term, my son accompanied me to the sausage factory in Montgomery to spend a week trying to make sense out of the nonsense. When we headed home on I-65, I asked what he thought about the legislative process after a week of wandering around the Statehouse, visiting with the assorted participants, and witnessing the proceedings.
“None of it seems completely real,” he began. “It’s like being in an alternate reality—in a video game or sci-fi movie—similar to the real world but slightly altered in a way that makes it difficult to tell what’s fake and what’s real.”
The Bible teaches that God uses the humble to confront the proud and the simple to confound the experts. My son’s depiction has become a significant part of the framework I use to understand the complex and confusing world of politics, along with other simple axioms like “politics is show business for ugly people.”
I didn’t fully appreciate the magnitude of his perspective until several years later, when the events leading up to and immediately following the 2014 election cycle forced me to view Alabama politics more like a rabbit hole than reality. And it has only gotten curiouser and curiouser. But the reality is, it hasn’t changed. It’s always been there—I just wasn’t looking. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
During the 1980s, political strategist Lee Atwater coined the phrase “perception is reality.” The near-universal acceptance of that idea has reshaped political consulting in the United States—and perhaps beyond—in ways that I believe have contributed to the moral degradation we are witnessing today. While it may contain some truth within politics, outside that context it feels far less defensible, which is why I am far more content to watch the legislative drama from the outside rather than live inside it.
Despite my dark view of politics, my faith has been the light that kept me from being swallowed by it. I have many fond memories of friendship and camaraderie with people of differing perspectives who genuinely wanted to serve the common good, but those moments are too often overshadowed by ego clashes and betrayal in the name of political expediency.
The political world is one in which everything is overdramatized, not unlike professional wrestling—with heroes and heels performing for an audience. It is an excellent incubator for fanatics.
My favorite definition of a fanatic is someone who cannot change their mind and refuses to change the subject. I am convinced that the percentage of fanatics within party structures at every level is higher than in the general population. When dealing with them, reasonable people often make the mistake of thinking that giving in will calm things down. But it never does.
Because it’s never really about the issue—it’s about power and control. And power never satisfies.
During my political career, I operated under the assumption that a large number of fair-minded, rational people exist outside the political spotlight—people who see through the theatrics. I still believe a tipping point comes when enough of those citizens grow tired of being bombarded by false narratives. When that happens, they stop surrendering power and reclaim it at the ballot box.
The proliferation of new ways to manipulate public opinion has tested that belief, but it hasn’t erased it. I still believe there are enough sensible people—both outside and inside the system—to push back.
Many insiders know better but remain silent to avoid the ire of headline-hungry hucksters. I don’t blame them—but when you dance with the devil, you eventually pay the fiddler.
Although I’ve left the dance, I still hear the music—and I know the tune. And I suspect there are many others who have grown as weary of it as I have.
From where I sit, I can see elements moving into position for a political realignment. It may come quickly, or it may take time, but I believe something is building from the middle.
Of course, I could just be full of wishful thinking—like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin.
Time will tell.
