Electioneering in the age of plastic surgery

I’ve heard people say that this presidential election is the most important election of their lifetime. But for me this election brings up a list of “d” words, like discouragement, disenchantment, disrespect and disgust.

Last week’s presidential debate left me cold, as has the entire campaign process. And it has made me crave a real leader, someone who reflects my values, who reveals his or hers, who shows me that he/she understands that life is complex and confusing, valuable and rich.

I want to vote for a president who reflects the lessons I strive to teach my children: be nice, look inward before acting, don’t blame others, solve problems with words, collaborate rather than criticize, realize you’re not perfect and give others the benefit of the doubt.

The truth is, my disgust with the debates began before President George W. Bush and Sen. John Kerry walked on stage. But it ran full force when I read about all the candidates’ demands for thousands of “make-me-look-good” conditions: perceived height, camera angle, podium position, etc.

I thought, not only, “What insecurity,” but also, “Why do they get to decide?” And I’m convinced that we need a return to basics, a return to the understanding that voters are the powerful ones and candidates are in a race to serve the public.

I’d like to see simple and unpolished debates that cost only as much as fees for the moderator and venue rental. I’d like to see something more like the great debates between Senate candidates Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas that were held throughout Illinois in 1858.

I’d like to see two podiums in a room with equal conditions between the candidates. Television cameras would be free to show the candidates as they are — checking their watches, wiping their noses or fixing their hair. And if they don’t like the conditions, candidates are entitled to not participate.

When did we begin to accept and expect that our candidates be air-brushed images, who strive to share few ideas and opinions? During campaign season, the candidates, their advisors and representatives are terrified of controversial issues to the point of paralysis.

And that’s shameful. Perhaps this is simply electioneering in the age of plastic surgery, when voters expect candidates to fit a standard idea of beauty or intelligence or strength, and we vote against candidates who shout with passion or sweat too much.

Don’t get me wrong. I want my president to be brilliant, to be so smart that when he/she talks I am awed by his/her depth and analytical prowess. I want to feel proud when I see my president sitting with a foreign leader and respecting that different culture. I want my president to be a model, to be extraordinary.

And I confess that I am no political pundit. I’m simply a human being and I’d like to feel that the political game reflects our better, rather than our worse, human qualities.
This disenchantment may certainly be construed as naivete, but I ask, “Is not idealism our ultimate goal? Is not democracy itself a great leap of hope and idealism?”

This Nov. 2, I’d like to vote with vigor, believing that I’m participating in a pure, democratic process, not a game controlled by image polishers, message creators, acting coaches and marketing gurus.

I’d like to participate in a process that respects voters’ wisdom and intelligence by allowing us to hear honest and direct messages. No commercials, no fluffy stump speeches, but a real focus on the issues.

As American voters, the intended audience for this great show, we should demand a return to simplicity and honesty. We should send our candidates on trains across the country to meet voters, actively listen to our concerns and share ideas. Let the candidates be interviewed by news media, then toss them into a room for a real, raw debate that is rich with issues and intellectual conflict.

But, in spite of my disgust and disenchantment, my craving for an honest process and a great leader, I will proudly vote on Nov. 2. I will meet my husband — who will take his Oath of Allegiance to the United States on Oct. 14 — and we will vote together. And then we will celebrate his first election as an American citizen and the great honor of participating in this flawed but grand democracy.

On a different note, I apologize for seeming to make a connection between my opinions (about inviting apparently controversial guests into my sukkah) in last week’s column and an unrelated conversation I had with Rabbi Menachem Rapoport.