One of the more bizarre debates of the 2000 election was: “Who would you rather have a pizza with, George Bush or Al Gore?” In other words, which candidate was perceived to be more fun, more approachable, more just-like-you-and-me? George Bush won the contest. Never mind that he is the Ivy League son of a former president, wealthy and privileged beyond most of our wildest dreams — he was seen as “one of us” while Al Gore was alleged to be aloof, insulated from ordinary concerns, and, amazingly, “too smart.” Let me say that again: Al Gore was considered too smart to be president.
The same thing nearly happened this time around. Barack Obama’s critics characterized some of his debate performances as too nuanced and deliberative, as if giving a thoughtful response to a complex question was elitist. In this age of sound bites and a population where many are functionally illiterate — the majority of Americans read half a book a year — I suppose that giving an answer too lengthy to fit in a fortune cookie is somehow insulting to an audience that demands portion control for their ideas, if not their burgers: Don’t supersize me on the implications, dude!
We seem to have a reverence for those we consider average, at least when it comes to our elected officials. Average, as in typical, ordinary, unexceptional. Why is that? Why are we so enamored of the mean rather than the high end of the spectrum regarding those to whom we entrust such awesome responsibility?
When I wrote a column about Sarah Palin, comparing her to the ambitious, manipulative, cunning homecoming queen wannabe in every high school, a woman wrote to the editor about how clearly threatened we “left-wing liberals” were by someone who was “normal.” Hmmm, I thought: I guess only right-wing conservatives wear lipstick and have kids who play sports since at that point Palin’s major description of her own normalness was her hockey mom status. Then I realized that the letter-writer meant that Palin somehow reflected back her own sense of identity. Palin seemed reassuringly familiar in attitude and ability. I’m guessing that, for whatever reason (educational level, professional identity, socioeconomic status), the letter-writer defined herself as average. And perhaps feeling average made her feel vulnerable to the possibility that somebody smarter, more educated, more accomplished would be able to exert a degree of control over her life and country that she would be powerless to influence.
There’s been much talk of the culture wars: How we are increasingly divided into progressives (snooty latte-drinking proponents of abortion, stem cell research and other affronts to family values) and traditionalists (intolerant gun-toting, pro-life advocates for the death penalty and corporate interests) who are duking it out to define who is more truly American. I’d like to think that that’s not true, that more unites than divides us, but on one issue the gap is wide.
As a nation, we seem to have an inferiority complex, a deep ambivalence toward those who are highly educated. We fear that those people will look down upon us and tell us what to do, but we’re too lazy, stubborn or afraid to do the one thing — inform ourselves through reading — that would equalize the balance. Too many of us seem to prefer leaders who make us feel OK about our shortcomings rather than those who challenge us to aspire for more.
I don’t know about you but I want my president to be smarter than I am, just as I want my brain surgeon to be top of his class. I don’t want my child, my hairdresser or my car mechanic to be average. It all comes back to the question: “With whom would you rather share a pizza or watch a ballgame?” If it’s the average guy you choose, then you don’t have to worry — you’ll be hanging with somebody just like you, who won’t intimidate or inspire. However, if you’re willing to trade a level of discomfort for the chance to grow, then by choosing the extraordinary guy you might just have the night of your life.
— Peaco Todd is a syndicated cartoonist, author and professor who lives in New Hampshire and Massachusetts. Her work can be seen at www.peacotoons.com and www.porkbarrelcomix.com.
