Are We There Yet?

“No , Google, that’s not what I want.”

Not an unusual conversation under any circumstances. Doubly so when it involved Google Maps, as I wrestled with my phone screen to make at least one sensible route appear. (And by “sensible,” I meant of course, “route that I like.”)

I have nothing against the great orienteering tool of the 21st century. Most of the time, it’s been a godsend to me since I lack any real sense of direction. I’ve often said that the one direction I can reliably find is “down,” so long as I remember to leave my shoelaces untied first. It’s helped to know that the mountains are always west – at least, until I moved to Kansas for nine years, which may explain why my first attempt to find Lake Eisenhower ultimately led me to two ruts in a farmer’s field.

Ah, the good old days.

This time, though, it was being recalcitrant. I needed to visit the office of an out-of-town veterinarian friend. Google Maps was perfectly willing to take me there – so long as I used I-25, in part or in whole. Which for me, is a little like saying “You can come to the Bronco game, so long as you wear black and silver and carry a banner that says ‘Go, Raiders.’ “

I’m not totally unreasonable. I’ll use our great, great interstate when the time is right – say, 10 or 11 at night, when the cars are scarce and the exits are easy to reach. After all, there’s nothing wrong with I-25 that removing 90 percent of the traffic wouldn’t cure.

After the electronic equivalent of twisting one arm behind Google’s back, the map finally, reluctantly, gave me what I wanted. It wasn’t the fastest route there. In fact, it overshot the mark by a little bit in order to cross beneath the interstate and then double back. But it would take me on a route I trusted and get me where I wanted to go.

The fastest route is tempting. But it’s not always the best one.

As I write that last sentence, I’m tempted to look over my shoulder for the American Inquisition. After all, that’s heresy for us, and not just in driving. This is a nation that often loves straight lines, simple answers and clear-cut decisions.  And sometimes bulling through despite the complications does help us find a better way forward, like Indiana Jones in the bazaar blowing away a master swordsman with one shot.

Most of the time, though, it leads to frustration. If everything must be simple, then opponents must be crazy or wrong – after all, any reasonable person should clearly be able to see you’re correct. If things must be resolved quickly, then anyone who says “Hey, wait, what about this,” is the enemy, or at least wasting precious time.

And so discussions become debates become arguments. Positions get polarized with opponents seen as little more than cartoons. We dig in – and when you dig in, nobody is moving forward.

Health care. Immigration. Gun control. Each of us could name a dozen issues where we’ve had the same discussion over and over again without moving an inch. Many of these are high-stakes issues where people care passionately and deeply, which makes it even harder.

Most problems don’t have a single, sweeping solution. They require smaller steps on a number of fronts, as we define what we really want and what that looks like in each piece of the situation. That takes longer – and that’s hard when a sense of urgency is there. But it also means the solutions we reach are likely to be better fits, creating a path forward one cobblestone at a time.

The best route is not always the fastest. It’s the one that gets you where you want to go.

Let’s start mapping, shall we?

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NOTE: Thank you to the many, many people who wished us and Missy well after last week’s column, “A Day In Emergency.” She’s been doing great and is as sassy and sweet as ever. We appreciate your thoughts!

Debatable Value

The binders have been shelved. Big Bird has nested. The death stares and Joker leers have gone back to the DC comic book from whence they came.

Debate season, at long last, is over.

Can I hear an amen!

I kind of thought so.

It’s funny. I cover politics for a living. I love diving into a sea of government and coming up with a pearl of fact; I like turning the turgid mass of bureaucratic “English” into something that makes sense to you and me. Overall, I think democracy’s a pretty good system – one that asks a lot, but one that gives a lot, too.

But every election year, without fail, there comes a point where I start thinking “You know, monarchy doesn’t sound so bad.” One too many mailers, one too may robo-calls, one too many screaming ads on television.

And then, to cap it off, there’s the debates.

The debates!

Ideally, this should be the spotlight moment of any democracy. At a local level, it often is. You get a forum where the moderator gives an issue, the candidates give their take on it, and the audience comes away a little more enlightened than before.

At the presidential level? Give me leave to doubt.

It’s revealing, I think, to look at the question that gets asked when the dust has cleared. Ideally, there’s a few things people should be asking: “What did they say?” “Is it true?” “Will it work?”

But what do we ask when the debate is over?

Come on, you know this one.
“Who won?”

One more reality show. “Survivor” with a moderator.

I never really thought I’d say this. I kind of hate myself for it. But I think we’ve reached the point in the presidential race where the debates don’t really add all that much.

What do we get from them?

There’s still a few things, I know. A sense of how a candidate carries themselves. How they respond when challenged. Whether they’ve been able to get any sleep the night before. I’ve heard this called the job interview, and there’s still a little truth to it.

But a job interview where two applicants answer simultaneously, interrupt each other and compete to see who can come up with the most effective “zinger” about the other’s resume’ doesn’t sound all that useful to any employer I’ve ever met.

Is there a way to take it back? To make it about content and thought instead of charisma and talking points?

Or let’s ask the scarier question. Will it matter if we do?

Voters arguably have access to more information about their candidates now than ever. You can see their positions, and then see those positions fact-checked, criticized and defended to a fare-thee-well. And by the time the actual debates come around, most minds have been set.

I know, it’s fashionable at this point of the year to talk about the undecided voter. But I think that’s an endangered species. What we’re seeing now is the highly decided voter. Ones who have already decided which facts they believe, which narratives they’re plugging into. In a case like that, the debates are even less likely to inform, even more likely to confirm an existing bias.

I’ll grant that the first debate this year gave a fresh momentum to the Romney campaign. But was that because he convinced new supporters? Or because he was able to rally the existing ones?

If that’s the case – if the debates are becoming a pep rally with factoids – do they still serve the purpose they should?

I hope I’m wrong. I really do. Because if I’m right, we might get just as much value – and maybe even more information – from watching the candidates compete on a revived Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?

Actually, that sounds kind of intriguing. But I’m not married to it.

It is, after all, open to debate.