It's been 34 years since Kentuckians sent a Democrat to the U.S. Senate. This year, when they elect a successor to Republican Mitch McConnell, it will be a referendum on President Trump and also a conservative state's choice for the nation's direction. (Getty Images)
Every October, Kentucky politics undergoes a peculiar transformation. Campaign advertisements become nastier, accusations grow louder, and rumors that spent months buried suddenly find their way into mailboxes, television commercials, and social media feeds. Candidates who spent the summer shaking hands and kissing babies begin searching for skeletons in their opponents’ closets.
Welcome to what politicos affectionately call “silly season.” It’s that wonderful time when politicians aren’t frightened by things that go bump in the night or monsters beneath their beds. Their greatest fear is what might come crawling out of their closets: secrets long buried, skeletons carefully concealed, and past indiscretions resurrected for public consumption.
Depending on the campaign’s toxicity, particularly in federal elections, these revelations can test marriages, destroy relationships, jeopardize careers, and threaten reputations. Nothing is sacred, and almost everything becomes fair game. Naturally, every election brings familiar complaints: “Politics has gotten so negative!” “I’m tired of the attacks!” “Why can’t candidates discuss the issues?”
Bless your hearts. There’s a reason your mailbox receives 14 negative campaign mailers for every wholesome family portrait featuring a candidate, spouse, two children, and a golden retriever staring lifelessly toward some imaginary Kentucky horizon.
Political science offers some explanation. A 2007 meta-analysis published in The Journal of Politics, The Effects of Negative Political Campaigns, found that negative campaigning tends to be more memorable and can increase voters’ knowledge, although researchers found no reliable evidence that it wins more votes.
Another study, Do Negative Messages Work?, published in American Politics Research, found that credible, relevant attacks can damage voters’ evaluations of opposing candidates, while excessively harsh attacks can backfire.
Negativity captures attention, shapes perceptions, and fuels conversation. Whether it changes your vote is another question. As my Mamaw Cel would say, “People just love to bitch.” And Lord knows, Kentucky politics provides plenty of opportunities.
We complain about negative advertisements while consuming, sharing, and debating them. We eagerly anticipate the next scandal, then express remarkable indignation when another appears.
Yet politicians perform on a stage the public helped build. You are not merely the audience; you are the conductor. Your attention sets the tempo, your reactions determine the volume, and your appetite for spectacle encourages another performance. The more you feed it, the more you receive.
But we can change the performance by demanding something better than recycled slogans, partisan talking points, and political theatrics. Instead of asking whether someone is sufficiently conservative, liberal, Republican, or Democratic, ask questions that actually matter.
Do you support the First Amendment, including the rights of people whose speech you despise? Will you hold our research universities accountable for increased direct payments that increase Medicaid costs and burdens taxpayers? What specific policies will put more money in Kentuckians’ pockets and make it easier for families to put food on their tables?
As October surprises emerge and accusations circulate faster than gossip at a church potluck, remember that political culture reflects more than candidates’ conduct. Of course, this does not absolve politicians of responsibility. The distinction between a politician and a statesman emerges when someone possesses the character to say, “Enough,” even when the audience demands an encore. You cannot spend eleven months rewarding the spectacle, eagerly awaiting scandal, and then pretend to be appalled by the performance.
If you’re going to complain about the circus, acknowledge your role in buying the tickets. And politicians, put on your big-boy or big-girl pants. Neither side should forget who helped build the damn stage.
Courtesy of Kentucky Lantern
