Confession: I have not always watched the presidential debates with the utmost seriousness of purpose. I used to make a game of it, like Punch Buggy: take a sip every time a candidate references Ronald Reagan; bet on how many times Obama will begin a response with, “Now” or “So. . .”
I am aware now that I was able to be light-hearted about the debates because I felt that, fundamentally, the candidates took them seriously, so I was allowed sophomoric laughter at their expense (as when poor Mitt Romney uttered the critically ill-phrased “binders full of women”).
Those carefree laughs are over. Now I feel like the adult in the room who needs to model decorum.
Ahead of this week’s debate, both candidates have exchanged barbs like gunslingers trying to outdraw one another.
Trump accepted CNN’s invitation just after Biden, posting “Let’s get ready to rumble!!!”
Then Biden wrote on X (formerly Twitter), “Donald Trump lost two debates to me in 2020, since then he hasn’t shown up for a debate. Now he’s acting like he wants to debate me again. Well, make my day, pal.”
I’d feel more comfortable if I were the one degrading the democratic process with allusions to pro wrestling and Dirty Harry. But I don’t have the influence to call these kids in from recess and make them sit up straight and talk nice.
So I think this time around, I’ll watch the debates as a spiritual practice, as Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat suggest.
I’ll practice being present and open, no matter what kind of performance these men put on. I’ll listen deeply, beyond the showmanship to the intention and heart behind the ideas. I will suspend my disbelief and find ways to hope.
Overall, I will remember that whatever I am experiencing my fellow Americans are experiencing with me. That sense of connection to others may be the most important reality to keep in mind as we head to the polls in November.