In case you haven't noticed, the campaign season is in full swing, from town councils to President of the United States, candidates are either already duking it out, or are about to start duking it out. As hard as it may be to believe, I have actually campaigned for office. Based on that experience and my involvement in many other campaigns, I've recognized some realities of the world of political campaigning that I'd like to share with you.
These observations are bi-partisan and non-partisan, and it seemed like a good idea to get them out there before the flying crud gets too deep, and it will.
I ran for Mayor of a small town of under 6000. Understand that I didn't intend to run, but somehow I ended up as a candidate. Having moved from New York, it just seemed logical to me to join my local party political club. To my surprise, after just a year, I was the president of the club and tasked with the job of finding two council and a mayoral candidate. The council candidates were fairly easy to find. One was an incumbent and the other a well known local resident. No one wanted to run for mayor. The incumbent, our opponent, was well known and liked and looked like he should be the mayor. To this day, long after his political career has ended, "Mr. Mayor" is still on his mailbox. It was sort of like running against everyone's grandpa or cherished uncle.
The party faithful had signed the nominating petition awaiting for the name of the candidate to be written in. On the last night before the deadline, having called everyone anyone could think of, I had only lived in town two years so I knew no one, the senior member of the nominating committee turned to me and said, "Noblesse oblige, baby, it's you." Thus was my glorious campaign launched.
Clearly, I was doomed. I understood that my task was to avoid screwing up and help the two council candidates get elected. The traditional method of campaigning in my town, as in most small towns, was knocking on doors and going to meet-and-greets hosted by generous party faithful. It was tough to get real excited about this since I knew victory was not an option. On most weekend afternoons, I put our two year old son, Dan, in his stroller and we went door to door. I shouldn't have been surprised that most people were amiable and friendly. They were happy to talk, particularly those who supported the opposition, who wanted to slow me down so I would reach fewer homes, a fact I was too thick to understand until I spent a nice afternoon chatting with my next door neighbor and returned home to learn that he was my opponent's campaign manager. Was I pissed off? You bet.
In spite of those few disappointments, I fell into the trap of campaigning. I began to believe that I could actually win. The more I canvassed, the more convinced I became that victory was not only achievable, but actually within reasonable grasp. Of course I was wrong. Victory was never either possible or within reach. But, and here's the point, a candidate must believe in his/her ability to win in order to carry on. This is true at every level. As the election nears, reality may rear its ugly head, as it must have for John McCain and John Kerry, but by then the commitment is so total, that there is no alternative to working hard if only to salvage some of your self respect.
A campaign is a bubble that surrounds the candidate with people who want him/her to win and who stoke him/her with good news that is either true or mere wishful thinking. At lower levels like town government, there are no polls to inject any sense of reality. At higher levels information fed to the candidate is sanitized so as to avoid freaking him/her out and maintain morale.
At the Presidential level, there is a difference if you are the incumbent or the challenger. The incumbent is on the job, not just campaigning, so along with the intense advantages of incumbency and the bully pulpit of the Presidency, you are "in the world" all the time. The challenger is always in the position of having been campaigning for a long time, much longer these days than in election cycles past. You have fought and survived an amazingly grueling round of primaries. Everything that could have been hurled at you has been hurled at you, whether true or fiction. Now, here you are, ready to go head to head with an incumbent whose presence has been almost illusory during the miserable process you have weathered. You are pretty well convinced that having taken all you have taken already, you are ready to meet the challenge ahead, whether you are or aren't, and win, whether you have a real shot or don't.
In my case, I walked into the school to vote feeling pretty confident that I had done well enough to upset the incumbent Mayor. Everyone involved with the campaign assured me they had heard good things. Of course I lost by a two-to-one margin. My running mates lost too, although less convincingly.
As we move along toward election day, I hope you will use my experience as a cautionary tale that helps you empathize with both candidates you support and those you oppose. Running for office is a difficult thing. You are just out there. No one cares about your advisers, it's your name and ego on the line. By the way, even though I got hammered, I'm glad I ran. I learned lots and gained a deep regard for the electoral process, no matter how screwed up it seems currently. I cannot encourage you enough to take the step. Speak out for what you believe and have the courage of your convictions. Run for office, it will be among the most frustrating, annoying, wonderful and exhilarating things you have ever done, just keep your eyes wide open and don't talk only to those who support you. Good luck to those who are making the run in 2012, except for those that I don't support, of course.
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