I want to see the evidence.
When I hear the CEO of BP stand on the oil-soaked beaches of Louisiana and say, “I am as devastated as you are,” I want photographs. I want to see his lawn soaked in the mire. I want to see the oil slick in his swimming pool. I want photos of his pets with the gunk all over them. I want to see his bank account dwindling because he cannot work.
Show me you are experiencing the pain; don’t just give me fake sincerity.
For those of us who have lived for any significant period of years, we remember him well. Aside from the rumors surrounding FDR and Lucy Mercer, John Kennedy and his trysts, and the others, Spiro Agnew looms as one of the first of really serious political scandals in my time. He has the dubious distinction as the only Vice-President of the United States to be forced to resign. It was perhaps prophetic that the man he served alongside met a similar fate.
But back to Agnew.
Spiro was a master at public relations. Like Dick Cheney of a later administration, he became the “hit man” for the Nixon White House, coming down hard on those who dared to protest the war in Vietnam. He labeled them “un-American.” (Sound familiar?) Agnew had great oratory powers – far better than his President – and could string alliterations with the best of them. Remember “nattering nabobs of negativism?” That one was thanks to the writing talents of William Safire.
Show me you are experiencing the pain; don’t just give me fake sincerity.
For those of us who have lived for any significant period of years, we remember him well. Aside from the rumors surrounding FDR and Lucy Mercer, John Kennedy and his trysts, and the others, Spiro Agnew looms as one of the first of really serious political scandals in my time. He has the dubious distinction as the only Vice-President of the United States to be forced to resign. It was perhaps prophetic that the man he served alongside met a similar fate.
But back to Agnew.
Spiro was a master at public relations. Like Dick Cheney of a later administration, he became the “hit man” for the Nixon White House, coming down hard on those who dared to protest the war in Vietnam. He labeled them “un-American.” (Sound familiar?) Agnew had great oratory powers – far better than his President – and could string alliterations with the best of them. Remember “nattering nabobs of negativism?” That one was thanks to the writing talents of William Safire.
Coincidental to the time when the “hatchet” fell with his conviction on tax evasion charges, I was teaching a popular course in American Studies at a college in the South. I believed then, as I do now, that you can never divorce the arts and humanities from what is taking place in the real world. As a result, I encouraged my students to understand the events of the day.
In his resignation address, Agnew pulled out all the stops. He never apologized for his actions, but instead seemed to liken his departure with the loss of Abraham Lincoln by quoting a statement made by James Garfield at the time: “Fellow citizens, God reigns, and the government in Washington still lives.” He spoke of America’s high hopes. He mentioned his situation as an adversity from which our country could thrive.
I challenged my students to get reactions from people on the street about the event. What did they think?
By and far, the most popular response was, “he was so sincere.”
Yes, he was sincere, but he was sincerely wrong!
In August of 1974, after the scandals of Watergate, Agnew’s boss was in a similar situation. In his farewell to the people who served his administration, he likened the sadness of his leaving to Theodore Roosevelt’s loss when his young wife died. He mentioned his father – a poor farmer with the poorest lemon ranch in California. He spoke of his mother, referring to her as a saint. Like Agnew, he spoke about adversity making you stronger. It was emotional; sincere.
But he was sincerely wrong. Hours upon hours of tapes proved his degree of manipulative paranoia.
Let’s not forget how sincerely another said, “I did not,” when asked about Monica. Or any of the Johns when asked what was “real” and what was not.
So why this jag about sincerity?
Much of America’s connection with Ms. Palin of Wasilla has to do with perceived sincerity. She beams that adoring smile when talking about hockey moms and sitting on her porch looking toward Russia. She is ordinary people.
Rand Paul, the new darling of the Tea Party, has made some really disturbing comments. In a love fest with Glenn Beck he made alarming claims about the healthcare plan. Lately, Mr. Paul sees us an “un-patriotic” to criticize BP for their role in the greatest oil disaster in the world. “Accidents will happen.” (Shades of Rumsfeld?)
He espouses all this with great sincerity.
Sincerity has a two-part definition. The first, “honesty of mind.” But remember truth is what one perceives it to be. So the second part – freedom from hypocrisy - is necessary for completeness.
We confuse sincerity and simplistic solutions with sensibility. We confuse passionate discourse with actual compassion for others.
When your cute puppy chews up your best Cole-Hahn’s and you start to scold, don’t fall for that sincere sideways tilt of the head as he looks up adoringly.
He was sincerely wrong.
