JOHN SOUTHARDS
|
T H E C U LT O F T H E M I N O TA U R
The Cult of the Minotaur A Discussion of Power and Nobility John Southards
T
he race has begun. The 2020 election is in sight. As presidential candidates and their campaign managers even now begin to slide to the edge of their seats in anticipation of that glorious day, we citizens must steel ourselves to hear a slew of factoids about every candidate. But since we are about to hear the resumés of these candidates rattled off in well-crafted soundbites, perhaps we ought to evaluate the candidates like an interviewer would evaluate job applicants. In a sense, this is what candidates expect us to do when they list their major accomplishments: they hope that the American people will be captivated by their competence (how many times did we hear John Kasich say he balanced the budget during the 2016 GOP primaries?). As potential employers, voters should want to know that their applicants can perform the job. However, employers want to know more than the qualifications of their applicant, which is why they ask, “Why do you want this job?” If we are to treat political candidates like job applicants, we should pay as much attention to their motivation for ruling as we should to their ability to rule. In a job interview, we might expect the applicant to declare that he has real enjoyment for the work, or that he is called to work in that field, or sometimes, if the applicant is honest, that he needs the money. Very few politicians ever claim that they are seeking office because they enjoy debating policies or are looking for a way to feed their families. Nor would we expect them to. Does this mean that politicians are always motivated by some noble obligation? It seems unlikely. What is more probable is that there is some natural reward proper to being a polVol. III, No. 2
•
5
