So Much to Say

It has been my experience that most cab drivers have not read Emily Post. At least not the ones that I’ve met. Because if they had, they’d know that most basic rule about conversation in “polite society.” No politics and no religion. One gentleman in particular comes to mind. He was a middle-aged driver named Lou. Not seconds after picking me up at Philadelphia International Airport, Lou launched into a discussion about a variety of hot political subjects. In a thirty-minute drive, he hit everything from drug legalization to welfare to campaign finance reform. It was the best conversation I’d had in months.

Now I’ve encountered a few cab drivers moonlighting as political philosophers (born and raised in New York City, you see) but Lou was by far the most eloquent. As he probably intended, he got me thinking. I got to thinking that we, the politically apathetic American electorate with our cynical talk and embarrassingly lax voting habits, could learn a lot from Lou. If you can’t find Lou, though, you could just turn on The West Wing.

The West Wing, NBC’s drama set in a fictional American White House, has exactly the quality Lou possesses. It’s also a quality that too many of us seem to lack: the courage to speak freely about politics. Picture yourself in the following situation: you’re sitting with a large group of people you know, they could be acquaintances, friends, family, whatever. The conversation turns to some political topic, doesn’t even matter which one. What happens? Does somebody groan? Does someone say “Let’s not talk about this now.” Does someone immediately change the subject? Do people start to get up and leave? Why? Because the law of averages says that if that group is large enough, at least two people are going disagree on that topic. Political disagreements are uncomfortable. Political disagreements are tacky. But as I write this, The West Wing is in its second season. Looks to me like political disagreements just won a boatload of Emmys and make up one of the few truly thought-provoking hours of television.

What appeals to me, and to many West Wing fans (and apparently to a lot of critics) is that, the heart of the drama, the very reason for its existence, is its portrayal of heroic characters who are politicians. Decades of bad jokes, smug political commentary, and late-night TV monologues have led us to believe that the term “heroic politician” is an oxymoron. But, like the cab driver who to debates the government’s drug policy while skirting construction on I-95, the creative team behind the West Wing is brave. Their goal is to challenges that belief. They were brave enough to spend millions to put a White House drama in prime time even though people were still snickering at Jay Leno’s Lewinsky jokes. They were brave enough to make their president a liberal Catholic Democrat from New England (played unbelievably well by Martin Sheen). They were even braver to show that president down on his knees in prayer with a rosary. Finally, they were brave enough to try to make their characters heroes, not headlines.

When I say heroes (and I am using the term because that’s the word writer/creator Aaron Sorkin uses when he talks about creating his West Wing characters), I mean people whose business it is to stand and argue, even when it gets hard, even when everyone is listening, and when no one is listening. Still, the creators of The West Wing make the White House every bit as intense, fast–paced, and heart-wrenching as a medical drama or cop show. That’s how they keep millions of people tuning in every week to watch fictional characters talk about real issues like gun-control, endowing Social Security, school vouchers, and the death penalty. Go figure. Even people who don’t agree with the stance the fictional Bartlet Administration takes on these issues — and this is a liberal administration if there ever was one — find that it’s hard to hate this brand of politics. There are few villains, few shadowy figures to distrust. Instead, there are people making hard choices, making decisions that have consequences too numerous to count. These people are witty, optimistic, and hard working but they can be smug, and stubborn, too. They joke, they gossip, they screw up royally and they do good things. These characters are the humans inside the politicians that we don’t see in the real world.

It is this surprising humanity (and it doesn’t take long for a viewer realize that this is one of the most humanistic, even romantic, portrayals of American politics ever done) that leads me to my next point. Without the villains, without the muck, what is left to hate about politics except what we, ourselves, may be really be afraid of: speaking our minds in front of people who may disagree? The fact is, the minute we speak our minds, about anything, we give someone the opportunity to talk back and there’s always the chance that their argument might be better than ours. What do we do then? Do we agree to see it their way? Do we end the conversation quickly? Or do we reach down deeper and try to figure out why we said what we did and if we really believed it? For firsthand proof that viewers of The West Wing consistently choose the latter, logon to Mighty Big TV every week after an episode airs. While you’ll likely see a fair share of conjecture and gossip of about each character (the fans do have their favorites, after all), you’ll also see an all-too-rare event: a reasonable and intelligent political discourse about the episode’s issues. That’s what I call a mighty big deal.

Being politically apathetic is something that’s too easy to do in this society and I applaud The West Wing for trying to make it just a little harder. I’m also happy that television, that maligned obsession of ours, has produced a vehicle that can force even a small amount of political introspection, even if it is only once a week. The West Wing may not be the greatest television show ever created; it’s not perfect. It doesn’t always make sense and sometimes its message gets muddled in the race to deliver ratings. It’s also not the only solution to the appalling lack of political awareness in this country. It is, however, a refreshing change, something to take notice of in a time where so many of our media messages drive us, even unintentionally, to indifference.

The word politics as we use it, is still very faithful to its Greek origins where it meant “belonging to the people or the state” (and yes, I looked that up). Real life politics, whether we like it or not, belongs to us. It encompasses everything that is important for our present and our future. No matter why or how much we may dislike the idea of debating difficult topics in public, they do not go away or become any simpler if we ignore them. In a society so obsessed with ownership, it’s ironic that our opportunities to speak and be heard are what we are so willing to give up. The bottom line: I don’t care if you don’t fall in love with West Wing. Although, in my opinion, it’s nearly impossible to resist the razor-sharp dialogue, rapid pace, and stellar performances by an ensemble cast playing characters that can best be described as addictive. Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. I also don’t care if you never meet a cab driver like Lou (although I’m willing to bet that Aaron Sorkin has met at least one). What I care about is the next conversation, the next opportunity each of us has to speak up. Will we have anything to say?