Matt Lavine

Reaching a consensus on any issue in the American public arena is rare, but the view that Barack Obama’s election marked an historic change in the American political culture came as close to a consensus as may be possible, except in cases of violent attack or natural disaster. Perhaps even more so for those who feared the consequences, great significance was attached to Obama’s racial composition.

Not only was this view of Obama’s candidacy overstated, it missed the bigger moment. In a nation founded on the elimination of birthright, Obama’s election only served to prove the vitality of America’s founding principles. As the Ivy Leaguer whose hard work overcame a lack of privilege, Obama presented no departure from the traditions of the American political culture. He is not only the culmination of the American system; he proves the ideological argument of Burkean Conservatives.

The bigger moment – and the greater threat to the American political culture – was the candidacy of Sarah Palin. Her continued popularity, as the personification of anti-intellectualism as political movement, signifies a radical departure from the continuum of the American civilization.

From the time well before their disputes began with the British Empire, Americans were remarkable for their minimal attention to the social distances so well maintained elsewhere. Indeed, the Revolutionary generation depended on this aspect of the American character. The bold experiment of the American Republic was the disregard for entitlement. Certainly, this break from tradition only applied to white males. While this restriction undeniably forced a hypocrisy that still haunts America, the limitation placed on the idea does not negate the boldness of creating a society without an aristocracy.

The social proximity among Americans instilled them with the ability to recognize those qualities needed in the selection of their leaders. Eliminating privilege and power based on family ties meant that Americans were free to exercise their common sense in recognizing greatness among people otherwise treated equally. Merit, rather than parentage, would determine a person’s station.

In the early years under the new Constitution, American leaders shunned the notion of overt political campaigning. Not only was it unseemly for a man of renown to grovel for votes, the activity might taint the experiment by hindering the people’s ability to chose the best candidate. It was a conscious effort to maintain the purity of their new experiment. While the unspoken ban on political campaigning did not last long, the culture had been established. In the most rough and tumble of elections, the principle remained that leaders projected the intellectual prowess needed to govern.

Indeed, the culture was so strong that it overcame the conflagration of the Civil War. It was not until Americans witnessed the large influx of immigrants and the consequences of widening economic disparity that the American political culture came under attack. Before the increased immigration from outside the British Isles undercut the myth of American homogeneity, industrial development yielded a greater concentration of wealth. These two forces led to an increase – or the perception of an increase – in social distancing. While Washington, Jefferson, and Madison formed America’s First Aristocracy, no descendants formed a lineage of succession. Industrial America, however, generated an economic aristocracy that could not be explained through cultural precepts.

Meanwhile, rather than compete with the immigrants, America’s elites responded by shunning them. Restrictions were imposed, both formally and informally, to limit the opportunities for the new arrivals and their children. Discarding the American foundation of success based on merit had consequences beyond preserving the status of the elite. Since power was no longer to be based on achievement relevant to the Republic, there was no legitimacy in achieving success. Finally, intellectual prowess was no more relevant than any other attribute.

These changes have denigrated American culture. Achievement is no longer a function of any particular talent or ethos. Celebrity, in any form, is not the result of effort or skill or talent; it is the means and the ends. Without merit and achievement discarded, political leadership is merely another form of fame. Since success is a function of happenstance coupled with ambition, intellectual effort or prowess has no more relevance than physical attributes.

When Americans confuse the halftime entertainment with the contest between two football teams, the game of football will be devoid of purpose. Sarah Palin is not playing the band nor is she its conductor. She is happily marching out in front, with a talent not for playing or conducting but for marching. The greatest fear for Americans concerned with the future is that nary a soul has noticed that she is not even part of the struggle.

The threat to America’s future is the debasement of the culture in such a way that Americans can not distinguish between a beauty pageant and a presidential election. Who seems more familiar, in the age of social distancing, now seems as relevant as the traditional question of which candidate seems most able to lead. In the Age of Palin, the danger is that the American political culture fully adopts this equanimity in evaluating future generations of American leaders.