State of the Union: speeches and circuses

I was one of the 47 million earthlings who watched last week’s State of the Union show. Most of us in the audience were Americans, as the show was staged mostly for us. People in the rest of the world have their own problems, although the antic behavior consuming the erstwhile leader of the free world increasingly constitutes one of the free world’s chief problems.

You might have gotten the impression over the last few weeks, or recent years, that the State of the Union address is an opportunity for the president to showcase himself and his agenda. Presidents predictably view it that way, and modern media, from radio to smartphones, have certainly furnished an opportunity for presidents to appear in the spotlight and speak directly to the American people.

That wasn’t the original intention. The Constitution presents it instead as a presidential duty: “He shall from time to time give to Congress Information of the State of the Union …” It also provides a vehicle for the president to participate in the legislative process, to “recommend to their (Congress’s) Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.”

Note well the mandatory “he shall,” and that he’s supposed to be recommending, not dictating. Most framers of the Constitution were staunchly Article I kind of guys.

The annual message didn’t acquire its State of the Union title until FDR, and the format has varied over the years. While presidents Washington and Adams chose to address Congress in person, President Jefferson opted to transmit his message in writing. This was, in part, because he had a soft voice and was by most accounts a far better writer than he was a public speaker.

Following Mr. Jefferson’s example, presidents presented their annual messages in writing, until Woodrow Wilson resumed appearing before Congress in person. Most presidents since have delivered a speech, although assorted presidents, up through Carter, chose to deliver some of their State of the Union reports and recommendations in writing.

If you’re one of the 47 million who tuned in, you’re familiar with the modern pageantry, from the sergeant-at-arms’ bellowed introduction to the president’s now standard declaration that the state of the union is strong. As for field position, the president stands at the lectern, while behind him the vice president and speaker of the house sit in high back chairs, displaying varying degrees of pleasure and displeasure.

Everybody stands for patriotic statements, the joint chiefs and the Supreme Court justices, owing to their nonpartisan character, often sit silently, and everybody else stands up or sits on their hands according to their party.

Since Ronald Reagan first spotlighted a hero who had saved airline passengers after they crashed into the Potomac, presidents have introduced special guests, both heroes and the victims of tragedy. While their achievements are often remarkable, and their visible pain more than moving, I can’t help observing that, under the current administration, they’ve increasingly resembled props that are part of the production.

If you sense some disenchantment on my part with the current state of affairs, you’re right. However, I expect to watch the proceedings next year, too. With that in mind, I have some points of information and recommendations of my own to offer.

I once believed that the pomp, ceremony, and even some of the silliness were worthwhile. But in this age of tweets and reality TV government, we don’t need distractions. We need Democrats and Republicans without capital letters. We need government that rests on the sovereign power of an informed people and the agency of responsible elected representatives.

We need to reject deceit and embrace the truth, regardless of whether it suits us or makes us feel good.

We need a moratorium on superficiality. We need ideas that are more than slogans, that require more than 140 characters.

We don’t need mindless chants of “USA, USA,” whether we’re cheering for Trump or for the achievements of women. Both matters are far too serious and far too complicated to be compassed in a Nuremberg refrain.

Sadly, it’s too much to expect dignity, humility, and integrity from our current president.

It shouldn’t be too much to expect more Republicans to place loyalty to the nation above loyalty to their party when they cannot possibly conceive that continued fealty to President Trump serves the nation.

It shouldn’t be too much to expect more of Democrats than populist slogans, intolerance for moderation, teeth-cleaning videos, and a swelling field of premature candidates who flatter themselves that they’re ready to assume the seat of Lincoln.

Our national past is a flawed place, and politics, which is the art and craft of governing, has always been tainted by corruption and expediency. It’s also easy and comfortable to remember the past as having been better than it was. But there were times when the halls of Congress rang with the voices of Americans whose depth of thought and devotion to the nation moved each other to weeping.

As Rome declined, its leaders offered the people bread and circuses to distract them.

Rome fell.

We don’t need another canned, staged speech. We can’t afford more lies or distractions. The State of the Union message shouldn’t be a show. It needs to be an occasion of accountability and serious thought.

We don’t need a show. We don’t need a circus. We need a government.