No place for cynical or frivolous diversions
In the before times, I used to go occasionally to Washington DC with a small group of colleagues from around the country to meet congressional staff and discuss science priorities in agriculture and biosecurity. At some point in the future, these visits once or twice a year will re-start. I am looking forward to it.
Many groups of people make similar trips, especially during the “fly-in” weeks in March and April: Soybean and corn farmers from the plains, fruit and vegetable farmers from the west coast and Florida; geography teachers and patrons of regional arts initiatives; parents with views against vaccines, parents with views in favour of vaccines; people who want more done to protect cats and dogs; people who think cats kill too many birds and have no position on dog welfare at all; university Provosts and Deans with lists of priorities for education; people who think that the government is doing too much of thing A; people who think the government is not doing enough of thing B.
All of these people (and many, many more) arrive in DC and ask for time to put their concerns to their representatives or senators (often both). We walk back and forth between the Senate offices on Constitution Ave, on the north side of the Capitol and the House offices on Independence Ave on the south side. If you are important enough (I’m not), or know someone who can connect you (I don’t), or your issue is something in which the rep/senator takes a particular policy interest, you might get to meet your rep/senator in person, if they’re in town — often they are not at that time of year. More likely you will speak to a legislative assistant on the office staff. The LA will listen politely make notes, ask some questions, gather up business cards and do their best, sincerely, to let you know that you have been taken seriously.
It’s easy to be cynical about all of this, but I think that is a mistake. If you’d asked me how important the process of engagement is before I’d done it, I would probably have dismissed it as a waste of time. In most cases, these meetings probably don’t result in a specific action being taken. But, even believing that to be the case, I still think that the process of taking one’s concerns directly to the legislature is an incredibly important aspect of US civic life; perhaps more now than at any time in recent history. We can’t afford to grow any more cynical about the role of government in our lives.
The Scots, as a rule, aren’t known as gushers; dour and gushing are polar opposites. We don’t do “frank avowal of sentiment”* in public in the normal way of things. I say this so that you can calibrate the rest of what I’m going to say.
Contrary to what I would have predicted, I have found the experience of visiting the Hill to be moving, humbling even, and an almost entirely sincere experience. Engaging in public policy debate by quiet, respectful discussion with staff from both parties is a profoundly different thing than the daily pantomime to which we are treated on television and news streaming services. Away from the finger-pointing and soundbites of “politics”, behind the scenes, this country’s legislators are still capable of putting together swathes of budgeted policy that makes sure stuff gets done.
Now, admittedly, the stuff I talk to legislative staff about is not the hot button items: Agriculture, research on food production and biosecurity, and how to balance the conflicting needs for trade and preventing the spread of pests and diseases. These are not the sort of policy areas where morality, religious beliefs and numbered entries in the Bill of Rights play a role. The discussion can focus on what to prioritize, the overall size of the budget allocation, and why the issue should matter to the rep/senator, not whether the government should be doing them at all. If the low stakes have given me an overly optimistic view of the chances for rational debate, I’d still maintain that when it comes to the small details of what government can do through the mechanism of public expenditure, there’s an encouraging lack of party politics in discussion of the minutiae.
Beyond all that, though, the point I want to make is simply this. As an outsider from a much older and less polarized democracy, I was taken by surprise by how utterly lacking in cynicism I have always felt when visiting the Hill. You cannot help but be aware of the history of the the place when you’re there. It engenders respect. The Capitol and the National Mall bear their symbolism in full measure and silently demand to be taken seriously. This is not a place to be used for frivolous or cynical diversions. And, no matter how small and unimportant the meetings you might have there are (in the big scheme of things, none of mine matter more than a single grain of sand on a beach), being able to walk into the offices of government and engage legislators in earnest discussion about what matters to you is an incredible privilege. If you get the chance I cannot recommend strongly enough that you take it.
*A description of the character, ex brakeman turned rancher, Charlie Gaylord in Willa Cather’s beautiful short story A Death in the Desert.
