Boston’s Tip O’Neill is closely associated with the cliché that says that politics is local. It is also possible to affirm that politics is rhetorical. In fact, I would argue that, in many ways, politics is the art of wielding the ambiguous.
Think, for example, of the US presidential election in 2008. To this day you can ask a roomful of young men and woman –people who were not old enough to vote at the time- what single word they most associate with Obama’s campaign. The majority will answer: “change”. In the Republican primary, a certain wealthy New Yorker argues that he can newly lead the country back to a golden age when it was “great”. Both concepts imply that the current situation is undesirable and that, with the help of your vote, the country will move in a new and positive direction. Their words are an invitation to form part of a movement. A movement travels in a certain direction and, when asked what the destination was, both Obama and Trump proved themselves capable of creating long sound bites with glorious patriotism-dipped phrases that meant very little.
This is what politics is all about. It is an art of filling the air with words, but avoiding anything overly concrete. Instead, the words are meant to connect to people on a personal level. We all have things we want different and we would all like for our lives to be great. However, these concepts are incredibly personal and in constant evolution. If I am stuck in traffic my feelings towards change and greatness are quite unalike than when I sit before a film, a job interview, or a lover. The politicians want their words to trigger our personal feelings. To achieve this they say a lot, but mean little.
Think, for example, of the US presidential election in 2008. To this day you can ask a roomful of young men and woman –people who were not old enough to vote at the time- what single word they most associate with Obama’s campaign. The majority will answer: “change”. In the Republican primary, a certain wealthy New Yorker argues that he can newly lead the country back to a golden age when it was “great”. Both concepts imply that the current situation is undesirable and that, with the help of your vote, the country will move in a new and positive direction. Their words are an invitation to form part of a movement. A movement travels in a certain direction and, when asked what the destination was, both Obama and Trump proved themselves capable of creating long sound bites with glorious patriotism-dipped phrases that meant very little.
This is what politics is all about. It is an art of filling the air with words, but avoiding anything overly concrete. Instead, the words are meant to connect to people on a personal level. We all have things we want different and we would all like for our lives to be great. However, these concepts are incredibly personal and in constant evolution. If I am stuck in traffic my feelings towards change and greatness are quite unalike than when I sit before a film, a job interview, or a lover. The politicians want their words to trigger our personal feelings. To achieve this they say a lot, but mean little.
