What
is the motivation that drives political lawmakers? Is Congress a representative sampling of America ’s very best? Or are other human factors at play?
Some believe that how much we think we know,
measured up against how little in reality we actually do know, is the
difference between book smart vs. experience smart. It’s knowing that the lessons learned as a
kid on the playground in grade school may be more relevant and important than
the high-minded intellectual concepts studied later in professional
school. It’s also the difference between
knowing when to talk, and knowing when to shut up and listen. Others say it’s the difference between amassing
knowledge and gaining wisdom.
At some point, the brain logically shifts from
consideration of “what is the law” to
“why is it the law.” How many times do we find ourselves uttering
the familiar words, “If I only knew then what
I know now.” There is always more
to learn.
More and more these days, whether it’s about
politics, religion or even the local Little League program, I find myself
questioning the motives of the leaders involved. What do they
have to gain, or lose, should a particular policy which is being put forth
prevail? Or whether the institution
permits discussion of any changes to its arranged order? When we’re dealing with human nature, doesn’t
it seem that self-interest is typically the proponent’s top priority? Even (and especially!) if it does not appear
to be presented that way? And is the
delivery of the proposal true and unbiased, as Jeffersonian simplicity would demand,
or are the familiar forces of physical and psychological manipulation hard at
work?
Membership in the US Congress provides an
illuminating example. When I was in
grade school, I believed that the 535 individuals who comprise the legislative
body charged with the unenviable task of lawmaking (435 from the House of
Representatives and 100 from the Senate) were idealists. They maintained character and integrity first
and foremost and stood on a higher intellectual plane. These lawmakers subordinated their own
self-interests, bestowing favor instead upon policies for the benefit of the
masses of ordinary citizens. After all,
this was the oath they had taken to public service. They were distinguished citizens, people we
looked up to with great respect and admiration for all that they had
accomplished and stood for. And as for
those in the Senate, the more reserved, deliberative body, all the more so.
I continued to believe in this line of
thinking for many years, until learning Abraham Lincoln’s
views. Many ordinary citizens are
unaware that Lincoln
was a member of the House of Representatives in 1846, where he served a brief,
two year term, some 15 years before he was elected president. I was much pleased to learn that Lincoln shared at the
outset the same speculations and musings about the character and motivations of
the men who filled the seats of Congress, and who he was about to meet,
encounter and interact with.
But when he had occupied his own seat,
then-Congressman Lincoln's views
quickly changed. He became extremely disappointed, finding members by and large to be “men of mediocre
ability and only local reputation.” [1] This was a huge letdown for Lincoln , the thought striking me also with a
dull thud. Further pondering, however,
provoked another sobering question: If that was the makeup of Congress then, could it possibly be any different
now, with the threat of another
federal government shutdown looming on the near horizon? Being somewhat familiar
with the players, I was pretty confident of the answer.
-Michael D’Angelo
[1] Of course, Congress
consisted only of men at the time. Lincoln
mentioned one great exception in John Quincy Adams, the former president, who was one of only two former Presidents to do so (Andrew Johnson later served in the US Senate in the post-Civil War era). According to Lincoln , JQA was
“distinguished alike for his rocklike integrity and his implacable hatred of
slavery.” He was elected to
the House of Representatives, serving Massachusetts for eight consecutive terms
from 1831 until his death in 1848.