Image courtesy of Flickr/Pat Pilon
In this political day and age, especially hot on the heels of Iowa, I don’t see how anyone can honestly be ‘undecided’ about presidential politics. You’re either lying to yourself or to everyone around you if you cling to noncommittal. Or, in all fairness, you might be too unwilling or embarrassed to admit that you’ve neglected to understand both the major issues and politicians’ stances on them, although that too smacks more of distressing apathy, willful ignorance or, worse, a dangerous cocktail of the two.
Don’t get me wrong: I am not saying that there’s no such thing as the center. Nor do I believe that there’s no room for independent voters or even an Americans Elect–prompted center-straddling third party that cleaves policy limbs from the current bipolar body politic out of which to Frankenstein something (sort of) new. Nor would I ever suggest that it is fair to malign the very odd bird who genuinely can’t decide if a gender-specific definition of marriage is more or less important than sound fiscal policy.
I’m even willing to concede that, within political parties, choosing between candidates can be tough. There were some mighty fine lines between Obama and Clinton back in the primaries of 2008. There have been more than a few almighty fine lies distinguishing the now has-been Bachmann and Perry.
But for polls in a general election to identify large numbers of respondents as ‘undecided’ – at the beginning of October 2008, just a month before our last presidential election, 6 to 8 percent of people polled were still uncertain – is baffling. David Sedaris wrote in an essay called ‘Undecided’ in The New Yorker late that same month: “I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?” I wonder too.
And then, in a moment of magnanimity, I think that maybe we should be more understanding and allow for other scenarios… even if they make us a bit more scared.
Maybe, in 2008, the ditherers were just letting themselves be distracted by the seven other presidential candidates: Ralph Nader, Bob Barr, Charles Baldwin, Cynthia McKinney, Alan Keyes, Brian Moore and Gloria La Riva. Yes, the also-rans that are routinely all-so-forgottens.
Or maybe the waverers were garbling their words. A simple slip of the tongue could indeed turn ‘undecided’ into ‘unexcited’. To suggest otherwise would be unexmocratic. After all, in July 2008, an Associated Press and Yahoo News survey found only 21 percent of 2,000 independent voters interested in and enthusiastic about the Obama-McCain face-off. A much larger 40 percent hadn’t yet sworn fealty and nearly half said they could still change their minds.
At least the number of professed undecided voters declined as election day approached. The pressure not to be such dunderheads probably got overwhelming.
Really, though, I think the choice of a candidate in any election comes down to three things, taken individually or together: personal allegiance, personal appeal and policy positions.
Think of it like a complicated meal. If you cook it, even if it isn’t the best repast, you’re definitely going to have to eat it. If you can’t stomach your own stew, don’t expect anyone else to either. Your personal allegiances, not to mention those of the people loyal to you, must be resolute. You’re decided.
You didn’t cook? OK. Someone must have cooked for you then. Perhaps even with you in mind, in a personal appeal to your appetites. Having taken time to spice the food just right and then plate it with care, the chef must be pretty sure he or she has got you pegged. Which puts you on the spot. You’re either going to like what you see and savor what you eat, or you aren’t. Your reaction can be polite, but it still means that you’re… decided.
Maybe, just maybe, you’re not so sure about the full feast, but you like some of the specific dishes. Wasn’t that fatback just divine? If it’s a key ingredient for you (yeah, I’m talking about policy positions now), a favorite comfort food, why not lard up on some more! If you’re hungry, what’s to stop you? Unless that other feast over there looks better. One way or another, you’re decided.
But wait, you say, what if you’re torn between the quality fatback on this platter and the salt pork on that one? They’re both so damn good. How can you decide? For most hungry mouths, there’s little hesitation; a call is made that takes into account the other ingredients on the plate and the reputation of the chef. Overstuffed gluttons who can’t be bothered to choose are probably better off idling to the side. The rest of us are too busy eating to care what they think.
Which brings me back to Sedaris and his essay in The New Yorker. “I think of being on an airplane,” he wrote. “The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. ‘Can I interest you in the chicken?’ she asks. ‘Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?’ To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked. I mean, really, what’s to be confused about?”
Don’t be confused, David. They’re decided. They just don’t want anyone to know.
So here we are, right where we started, facing the same questions: How well do you have to know yourself and the candidates to be be able to cast a vote? Not all that well. You just have to be clear about the difference between food and feces. Most, but apparently not all, people are. Whether you then want to share your choices is completely different.
Maybe that’s why pollsters and pundits now talk more about the ‘uncommitted’ than the undecided. At least they’re ready to commit to a decision about it.
