I wish I could personally thank every single one of you for your support, your donations, your door-knocking, your sign-posting, your phone calls, your encouraging words, and even your “likes” for this page. Like me, you knew the likelihood of “success” in terms of winning an election were minimal, but you supported my efforts anyway because you believe in what I stand for: a democratic process that encourages civil, even passionate, debate but ultimately comes together to solve problems.
All of my life, I have heeded my Daddy’s sage advice: I measure success in terms of my own commitment and efforts, not necessarily by outcomes. When I look back at this campaign, I consider it a success from that perspective. I went into it to focus on a handful of issues that I care deeply about—health care, education, and infrastructure. I thought I was well informed on those issues, but in the course of the campaign I learned so much more. I read books, researched online, and interviewed experts (some of interviews are posted here). But most importantly, I talked with people whose lives have been impacted, and sometimes upended, by our state’s failure to address these issues.
Because I ran for office, I am much better informed, but I also think I am more sympathetic and have a deeper understanding of what’s at stake. The recording I made describing the young man whose suffering and death propelled me to take on this venture has been viewed by thousands of people. At least they can’t deny the severity of our health care crisis.
On another level, however, my campaign failed. My goal was to engage my opponent and the public in meaningful debate on these issues. That never happened. I made repeated appeals to him to join me in online forums that would enable us to outline our proposals to voters, thus educating them and ourselves about the range of possibilities. The “R” after his name meant he never had to face opposition or come up with possible solutions. At the last minute, he notified the League of Women Voters that he would not even participate in the one forum that was broadcast on the radio. So confident he could win without a contest, he simply ignored my existence.
I had to wonder why he would run for office if he had nothing to offer. Then I saw the list of his corporate donors and understood. I had no chance to fight that, not even the opportunity to fight. Let me be clear: this is not just sour grapes; I don’t think I would have won the election if we had debated, but I do believe he would be a better legislator for having to mount a defense.
This note is also my goodbye to Facebook. I knew little about this medium when the campaign started, but COVID forced me to use it. Now I think it and other media like it create a powerful force driving our politics into two separate tribes, incapable of working together.
Early on, my media advisors told me that the attention span of users is less than two minutes at best, so I had to make my point quickly and powerfully. You can’t decide what kind of car to buy in two minutes, much less solve Texas’s health care crisis. The only way to grab attention in such a short timeframe is with deeply-seated and often deeply-damaging emotional appeals. There is no space for reasoned contemplation or even factual evidence on either side.
I realized the medium’s power when I found myself being sucked in by the addictive tactics its algorithms use to get attention and thus sell ads (or candidates). I noticed that little rush you get when someone “likes” your post and that pain you feel when you get an insulting, hate-filled response. On an intellectual level, I understand neither of these really means anything and certainly don’t shape my character. But since emotion often overrides intellect, they can and do shape our behavior.
I fear politicians have figured out that in our current media environment, they don’t have to do the real work of governing to keep their jobs: they don’t have to even tell the voters where they stand on issues. All they have to do is come up with brief, emotionally charged, image-driven messages to scare people into supporting them. Fear, anger, and hate are the only sure-fire way to get attention quickly, so they become the dominant tactic in our campaigns. I refuse to be a part of that degrading, disgusting process.
I know few people will read all of this—that’s my point.
