I want to talk about something that’s happening in American politics that ought to concern every single one of us.
And I don’t care whether you’re a Republican, a Democrat, an independent, or somebody who’s so disgusted with politics you’ve stopped paying attention altogether.
Because this isn’t about left versus right.
This is about right versus wrong.
There’s a political advertisement coming out of Ohio that’s causing an enormous controversy.
Vivek Ramaswamy, the Republican candidate for governor, released an advertisement featuring the mother of his Democratic opponent, Amy Acton.
Now, here’s where the story gets disturbing.
Amy Acton had a traumatic childhood. Her stepfather was indicted on charges of raping her when she was just 12 years old. He fled rather than face those charges.
Her mother lost custody of her children.
And decades later, that same mother appears in a political advertisement attacking her own daughter.
Think about that for a minute.
A little girl suffers a terrible betrayal. She grows up, builds a career, enters public service, and eventually runs for governor.
And somebody decides that bringing her estranged mother into a political campaign is a good idea.
Not to debate healthcare.
Not to debate education.
Not to debate the economy.
But to attack a political opponent through one of the most painful chapters of her childhood.
Now, the campaign argues that the advertisement raises legitimate questions about Acton’s public record.
Fine. Debate her record.
That’s what elections are supposed to be about.
But here’s my question.
When did humiliating another human being become a substitute for leadership?
And when did cruelty become something politicians brag about?
Because that’s what really caught my attention.
President Trump defended the advertisement. He reportedly called it hitting pay dirt.
JD Vance praised the audacity of the campaign.
And Ohio’s Republican governor, Mike DeWine, condemned the advertisement.
So even within the Republican Party, there’s disagreement about whether this crosses a line.
But here’s the bigger issue.
Somewhere along the way, we’ve developed this bizarre political culture where being offensive is confused with being courageous.
Where making people angry is considered an accomplishment.
Where the more outrage you generate, the more attention you receive.
And attention, apparently, is the currency of modern American politics.
Well, I’ve got news for everybody.
Being cruel doesn’t make you courageous.
Being loud doesn’t make you right.
And humiliating somebody doesn’t make you a leader.
You know what takes courage?
Admitting you’re wrong.
Listening to somebody you disagree with.
Changing your mind when somebody presents you with better information.
Standing up to your own political party when it crosses a moral line.
That’s courage.
And unfortunately, those qualities don’t always generate millions of views on social media.
But maybe that’s part of the problem.
We’ve created a political entertainment industry.
And everybody’s competing for attention.
Who can say the most outrageous thing?
Who can deliver the biggest insult?
Who can humiliate the other side?
It’s almost like professional wrestling.
Except these people aren’t fighting over a championship belt.
They’re fighting over control of our government.
And the consequences are real.
Healthcare is real.
Housing is real.
Education is real.
The ability to put food on your family’s table is real.
These are the things Americans are worried about.
And I know that because I’ve been talking to them.
I’m running for mayor of Greensboro, North Carolina.
And I’ve undertaken something that has changed the way I think about politics.
I’m interviewing a thousand people.
Not political consultants.
Not campaign donors.
Not party officials.
Ordinary people.
People I meet on the street, in coffee shops, in restaurants, and around town.
And you know what I’ve discovered?
People have incredible stories.
They’ve experienced heartbreak.
They’ve raised families.
They’ve struggled financially.
They’ve overcome illnesses.
They’ve lost people they love.
They’ve worked their entire lives trying to build something better for themselves and their children.
And every one of them has something valuable to say.
But here’s the fascinating part.
Most people aren’t looking for somebody to attack their enemies.
They’re looking for somebody who will listen to them.
And I’m finding that when you sit down with a complete stranger and genuinely ask about their life, something extraordinary happens.
They open up.
Sometimes for an hour.
Sometimes longer.
And often, when the conversation ends, I feel like I’ve made a new friend.
Now imagine something.
Imagine if our political leaders approached their jobs that way.
Imagine if instead of spending millions of dollars attacking one another, they spent that money listening to the people they represent.
Imagine a political debate where candidates actually answered the questions.
I know.
Crazy idea.
We might have to call it democracy.
And here’s something else I’ve learned.
The overwhelming majority of people I’ve spoken with want remarkably similar things.
They want a place to live.
They want safe neighborhoods.
They want good schools.
They want access to healthcare.
And they want the opportunity to provide for their families.
That’s it.
Five basic things.
Now tell me something.
What does dragging somebody’s childhood trauma into a political advertisement have to do with any of those five things?
Absolutely nothing.
And that’s what bothers me about this whole episode.
We have serious problems in this country.
Problems that require intelligence, cooperation, compromise, and leadership.
But instead, we keep rewarding the people who can create the biggest spectacle.
And maybe we need to ask ourselves a difficult question.
Are politicians creating this culture?
Or are we encouraging it by giving them our attention?
Because politicians respond to incentives.
If outrage gets attention, they’ll produce outrage.
If insults generate donations, they’ll deliver insults.
And if cruelty wins applause, some politicians will keep pushing the boundaries.
But we have the power to change those incentives.
We can demand substantive debates.
We can ask better questions.
We can hold our elected officials accountable.
And we can refuse to confuse cruelty with strength.
Look, I’m 69 years old.
I’ve lived through a lot.
I’ve seen this country go through wars, recessions, political scandals, enormous social changes, and some pretty extraordinary moments.
And one thing I’ve learned is that disagreement is inevitable.
But hatred doesn’t have to be.
We can disagree without humiliating each other.
We can compete without destroying each other.
And we can fight passionately for our beliefs without abandoning our humanity.
That’s not weakness.
That’s civilization.
And if we’re going to solve the enormous challenges facing this country, we’re going to need a whole lot more of it.
So here’s my challenge.
The next time you see a political advertisement designed to make you hate somebody, ask yourself one simple question:
What did I actually learn about how this candidate intends to make my life better?
If the answer is nothing, maybe that tells you something about the advertisement.
And perhaps something about the campaign behind it.
Because America doesn’t need more political theater.
It needs people willing to do the hard work of governing.
It needs people willing to listen.
It needs people willing to work together.
And above all, it needs leaders who understand that strength and decency are not opposites.
They’re supposed to go together.
Cruelty is easy.
Leadership is hard.
And it’s about time we remembered the difference.
Join the Conversation