candidate Archives - The Prindle Institute for Ethics

July 9, 2026July 9, 2026

The Man, the Bin, and the Ballot Box

I think it’s safe to say that politics has, in recent years, become a bit of a sideshow. It feels like the days of the statesman, with their clear vision for their country and their ability to rally, if not inspire, the populace are now a thing of the past. Think of Churchill’s 1940 “We Shall Fight Them on the Beaches” speech, Martin Luther King Jr’s “I Have a Dream” speech of 1963, or John F. Kennedy’s 1962 “We Choose to Go to the Moon” speech. These, and so many more, will live through the annals of time not simply because of what they were about, but also who delivered them.

More recently, however, we are faced with a rather different form of political actor and world leader. In 2005, we had former French president Jacques Chirac saying you can’t trust people, namely the British and the Finns, because their culinary skills are too poor. Argentina’s current president, Javier Milei, often portrays a less-than-reserved demeanor in his role as the country’s leader, most notably in 2025 when he shared a stage with Elon Musk as the latter wielded a chainsaw. And, of course, who could forget the countless gaffes, insults, rants, and temper tantrums of the current US president. Indeed, I struggled to pick just a single illustration of Trump’s lack of statecraft, so I decided to go with a recent one in which he rambles about the Islamic Republic of Japan (spoiler alert: Japan is not an Islamic Republic).

These examples, along with countless others, help illustrate a point which has been made several times in articles and think pieces in the Medium, Compact, National Affairs, and (ironically) the New Statesman, one which I think many of us are feeling. That the days of the great, wise leader may be behind us.

Yet, as the expression goes, the night is darkest before the dawn, and in the past few years, a political upstart has emerged on the scene of UK politics. And while they have not yet had a huge amount, or any, success in the UK parliament, recent developments have meant that now could be their time. Indeed, it seems that much of the country has rallied behind this charismatic politician and their radical agenda. What makes this noteworthy, and why I wanted to write about it here, is that this revolutionary hope is a man with a bin on his head.

His name is Count Binface. Since emerging onto the UK political scene in 2018, he has become an idiosyncratic, yet nearly omnipresent, figure in major elections. He first gained widespread attention by standing in the 2019 UK general election, where he challenged then Prime Minister Boris Johnson. Since then, he has run against a succession of high-profile politicians, including London Mayor Sadiq Khan (twice), former Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, and presumptive incoming Prime Minister Andy Burnham in June of this year.

It is his latest exploit, however, that has garnered attention, as there is the distinct possibility that the self-styled Leader of the Recyclons from the planet Sigma IX – who is, just to reiterate, a man with a bin on his head – could end up in the House of Commons.

For context, and to draw a slightly long story short, there is a constituency in the UK called Clacton. In 2024, the leader of the right-wing populist and far-right political party Reform UK, Nigel Farage, was elected as that constituency’s MP. In recent months, there have been increased calls for an investigation into Farage’s financial affairs as it has been alleged that he failed to disclose income and gifts he received in the 12 months preceding his election; a requirement under the Rules relating to the Conduct of Members. Such an investigation was launched in May 2026 and was anticipated to conclude that Farage had breached the rules. This would likely result in a by-election for Clacton where Farage would once again have to campaign to keep his seat. Farage, however, was seemingly unhappy to wait for this to happen to him, and on July 7th, he announced he would stand down as an MP, thereby forcing a by-election, in which he would stand. Farage’s rationale was that he would let the people of Clacton decide his fate rather than be judged by anyone else. However, all the other major political parties have refused to field a candidate. So, for a moment, it looked like Farage would run unopposed. That is, until Count Binface announced that he would stand. Thus, while nominations are still open and others could put themselves forward for the election (indeed, a couple of persons whom we needn’t concern ourselves with have), the election is a two-horse race. On the one side, one of the country’s most charismatic and inexplicably popular political figures, a man who played a central, if not the central, role in driving the UK out of the European Union, and who some tout as in the running to become the next Prime Minister of the UK. And on the other side, once again, a man with a bin on his head.

Since the announcement that he will run, Count Binface has been doing the media rounds. This has been normal for years as a minor appearance of the novelty candidate. However, this time around, things have taken a weirdly serious tone, with Count Binface making appearances on the leading political and news channels and shows. Now, he’s not a quick throwaway gag that a reporter quickly talks to while they await a more serious candidate from the majority party or the opposition to become free. He’s on the Today program on Radio 4. He’s on Newsnight on the BBC. He’s on LBC talking to Andrew Marr. There was a 35-minute segment on Channel 4 News about him and the by-election. He’s on the front page of practically every newspaper in the country. This by-election has catapulted a novelty candidate into the political limelight. What’s more, Farage framed this by-election as a decision for the people of Clacton as a choice between himself and the establishment. However, as none of the major political parties are standing a candidate, that framing means that Farage’s main rival, the face of the establishment, is, once again, a man with a bin on his head.

Now, all this is extremely funny. In case you’ve forgotten, the UK is a nation that, when asked to pick a name for a polar research vessel in 2016, picked, by a huge margin, Boaty McBoatface (the popular choice was ignored, and the vessel was actually named the Sir David Attenborough). We Brits are famed for our dry and irreverent sense of comedy, and we are happy to take that to the extreme, be it in the naming of a multi-million pound ship or the very real possibility of voting into the highest echelons of the UK political system a man whose manifesto pledges have historically and currently included:

–Renaming London Bridge to Phoebe Waller-Bridge after the actress, screenwriter, and producer.

–Banning loud snacks from theaters.

–Banning the use of the speakerphone function on mobile phones in public. (Offenders will be forced to watch the film version of Cats every day for a year.)

–Moving the hand dryer in the men’s toilet at Uxbridge’s Crown and Treaty pub to a “more sensible position.”

–Nationalizing the singer, Adele.

–Reversing Brexit by inviting EU member states to join the United Kingdom.

It is, in all honesty, bizarre and terribly funny. And the seriousness of the possibility of his being elected to the parliament juxtaposed with the fact that (final time I promise) he is a man with a bin on his head, makes it even more funny. Yet, despite all this silliness, there is a serious political and philosophical point behind it all.

Count Binface is not the only candidate to mock the political establishment. There is a long tradition within the UK political electoral system of, for lack of a better word, odd peoples standing for office. The most well established is the various candidates put forward over the years by the Monster Raving Loony Party. In the recent Makerfield by-election, in which Count Binface stood against presumptive PM Andy Burnham, there was also a man dressed as a fox. Often, if there’s a serious point or process of politics being conducted, there will be a seriously unserious person there to subvert it. And that is itself an important feature of the political process.

The democratic process, for all its seriousness, has always required fools. We tend to think of politics as something that should be conducted with gravity. Parliament is filled with rituals and traditions stretching back centuries. Politicians speak from podiums covered with emblems. Campaign launches are meticulously choreographed. Leaders look to cultivate images of competence, authority, and statesmanship. The entire enterprise, both in the UK and beyond, rests upon the notion that those who seek power ought to be taken seriously.

Yet democracy depends just as much upon our willingness to refuse those that seek power that privilege.

In his 1971 book Rabelais and His World, Russian philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin argued that societies require, occasionally, what he called the carnivalesque: moments in which the normal hierarchy of society is turned upside down. Using the example of the medieval carnival, Bakhtin notes that there were occasions when kings could be mocked, priests parodied, and fools elevated, if only temporarily, above those who ordinarily commanded obedience. These festivals were not attempts to overthrow the established order. Instead, they reminded everyone that power was ultimately human. The king, whom had rule overall, was still just a man.

It is this moment of subversion, where the world flips on its axis, that Count Binface currently embodies. His candidacy functions as a modern carnival, one played out not in a medieval town square but on television studios, radio programs and ballot papers. By standing alongside prime ministers, cabinet ministers and party leaders, he punctures the carefully cultivated aura that surrounds political office. He reminds us that no office is so exalted that it cannot accommodate a joke, and no politician so important that they cannot find themselves debating public policy with a self-proclaimed extraterrestrial from the planet Sigma IX.

This is not to say that Count Binface is making politics absurd. Far from it. He reveals the absurdity that was already there.

After all, modern politics increasingly resembles performance. Election campaigns are stage-managed spectacles. Politicians spend as much time crafting social media clips as they do policy. Success is measured not only in legislation passed but in viral moments, memorable one-liners, and dominance of the news cycle. Increasingly, politics rewards charisma over competence, spectacle over substance. It gives power to those who, rather than being a statesman, are those who can sell their brand of unaware unseriousness. Who think that calling your political rivals names like Sleepy Joe or dumbocrats is high art.

In that environment, Count Binface is less an interruption than an exaggeration. Like all good satire, he simply pushes reality one step further than reality has already pushed itself.

This perhaps explains why his current campaign feels so different from his previous ones. For years, novelty candidates occupied a familiar role in British elections. They provided a brief comic interlude during the results declaration before the cameras returned to the “real” candidates. This time, however, the cameras have stayed on him. He has become a serious participant in the national conversation, not because he has abandoned the joke, but because the joke has become an unexpectedly useful lens for examining British politics itself.

There is a delicious irony in the fact that Nigel Farage sought to frame the Clacton by-election as a contest between himself and the political establishment. By refusing to field candidates, the major parties inadvertently transformed that framing into something else entirely. The principal alternative to one of the most recognizable figures in British politics became a man who is campaigning for cyclists who break the highway code to be forced to ride unicycles instead. If Bakhtin’s carnival momentarily dissolves social hierarchy, then this is surely its democratic equivalent. The distinction between the political elite and the political outsider collapses, leaving voters to confront an unsettling question: how much of politics is performance, and how much is merely costume?

Bakhtin believed that carnival possessed a peculiar kind of truth. By laughing at authority, people were not rejecting society but renewing it. Laughter strips away the facade and reminds rulers that they remained accountable to those they governed. It prevents power from becoming untouchable. That is the role Count Binface performs today.

Whether he wins in Clacton is, in many respects, beside the point. His greatest achievement has already been realized. He has reminded us that democracy is healthiest when it retains the capacity to laugh at itself. As he himself said, when asked whether he has a chance to win: “err probably not. But then, you know, my job is to celebrate and defend the wonders of British democracy.”

If there is but one lesson to be drawn from Count Binface’s rise, it is that satire is not the opposite of politics; it is one of its oldest companions. Democracies need serious politicians willing to grapple with serious problems. But they also need their muppets. Those who are willing and able to expose vanity, puncture pomposity, and remind us that, beneath the titles, the motorcades and the campaign slogans, every politician remains exactly what they have always been: an ordinary human being who probably has just as much clue about what’s happening as the rest of us.

Sometimes, that reminder just so happens to be, for the final time, a man with a bin on his head.

February 6, 2023June 3, 2026

Aging Empires

The 2020 presidential election saw 77-year-old Joe Biden overcome 74-year-old Donald Trump, with Michael Bloomberg (78), Bernie Sanders (79) and Elizabeth Warren (71) all competitive in democratic primaries. Biden, who will be 82 when the next presidential term begins in 2025 (and 86 when it ends), has not yet decided whether he will run again, while Trump’s campaign is already in full swing. Nancy Pelosi recently lost her speakership at the age of 82, while the oldest sitting senator, Diane Feinstein, is a remarkable 89 years old and has held her position for over 30 years. Last year, septuagenarian democrats Carolyn Maloney and (76) and Jerry Nadler (75) battled it out over New York’s 12th congressional district, with 38-year-old Suraj Patel finishing a distant third.

All this means that the current American government is the oldest in history. Recent suggestions to reverse this trend include term limits for senators and age limits for judges like we have in Australia, where the mandated age of retirement is 70. Business Insider has published a whole series of articles – Red, White, and Grey – on the dangers of gerontocracy, arguing that a country run by the elderly will be uniquely unrepresentative. In the U.S. as a whole, about 17% of people are over the age of 65. In congress, this rises to a whopping 50%. Elderly people tend to be whiter and wealthier than their younger counterparts.

A recent poll found that more than half of Americans support an upper age-limit for public officials. But even considering a limit of this sort raises serious ethical considerations: is it justifiable to exclude people from public office based on nothing more than their age?

One concern with gerontocracy is that elderly people will avoid long-term planning in favor of short-term gain. Why plan for 50 years in the future when you won’t be around to see the consequences? Elderly people are less concerned about climate change, for example, comfortable in the belief that it won’t “pose a serious threat” in their lifetime. But accusations of short-termism have their limits. Consider, for example, 80-year-old Mitch McConnell’s decades-long plot to capture the Supreme Court, overturn Roe v. Wade, and, in doing so, cement his legacy as a champion of the pro-life movement. Liberal opposition to his efforts has less to do with the short-term consequences of legislative flux than the long-term future of a country where women’s bodily autonomy is heavily restricted. McConnell has even suggested, without a hint of irony, that the Roe v. Wade decision is outdated. So, for better or worse, elderly leaders can retain a focus on the future.

Michael Clinton, writing for Esquire, argues that accusations of gerontocracy are simply ageism: a surprisingly socially-acceptable form of discrimination against elderly people. Ageism itself is nothing new; indeed, even Aristotle showed a prejudice against both the youthful and the aged. Philosopher Adam Woodcox presents a version of Aristotle’s approach to the elderly:

The elderly character… is pessimistic and cynical. He is distrustful since he has been let down many times; he covets wealth since he knows how difficult it is to acquire and how easy it is to lose; and he lacks confidence in the future, because things have so often gone wrong.

Age limits on public service would not only institutionalize discrimination but also risk losing the experience and “gravitas” that can only come with age. But Clinton is quite happy to endorse a minimum age on important positions – indeed, he is in favor of raising the minimum age for the presidency from 35 to 40.

Age discrimination against younger people is widespread and generally uncontroversial. Voting, drinking alcohol, driving, serving in the military, even riding on rollercoasters – all sorts of activities are locked behind age barriers. These restrictions are accepted because humans don’t fully mature – physically or mentally – until about the age of 25. But evidence also suggests that cognitive capacity declines later in life: although speech and language functions remain largely intact, executive functions – including decision-making and problem-solving abilities – decline with age.

If we have a minimum age for the presidency, why shouldn’t we have a maximum?

It is also worth considering the personal element. Loneliness and social isolation pose huge health risks for the elderly, and restricting their political involvement might have serious consequences in this regard. But this is not so much an argument against age limits on public service as a note of caution about their introduction: any initiative that restricts the ability of the elderly to run for office would have to be matched by an initiative to get them involved in other ways.

Notoriously in-touch, spacefaring, tweeting ego-machine Elon Musk thinks that the elderly are simply out of touch. He might have a point. But it remains unclear whether age limits are the best remedy. Perhaps efforts to increase active political participation among the youth might be more fruitful, as they are consistently outvoted – and out-represented – by their elders. Indeed, there are signs of change on the horizon, with a drastic increase in the youth vote at the 2020 presidential election. Unfortunately, their only options were to vote for their (great) grandparents. With Biden poised to decide on his future, the age question is certainly not going anywhere.

August 17, 2021December 14, 2022

The Politically Great and the Morally Good

It wouldn’t be beyond the pale to assert that we’re currently having a collective crisis of faith regarding many of our world leaders and the political institutions they represent. Not only do they appear to be ineffectual in the face of emerging challenges – climate change, economic collapse, pandemics, and rising fascism, to pick a few – but several also seem to be fundamentally untrustworthy and, if one wants to be provocative, downright immoral.

For example, in the U.K., in the past year alone, several high ranking cabinet ministers, including the Prime Minister himself, have been accused of lying, bullying, adultery, cronyism, corruption, and the questionable appropriation of public funds for personal use. Abuses of power like these, which extend far beyond the U.K.’s shores, have even been identified by the Centre for the Future of Democracy’s recent report as one of the critical causes for the broader decreased faith in democracy in many of its former bastions.

Now concerns regarding politicians acting less than virtuously are nothing new. In the 44 B.C. treatise De Officiis, the Roman statesman Cicero wrote that there is “no vice more offensive than avarice, especially in men who stand foremost and hold the helm of state. For to exploit the state for selfish profit is not only immoral; it is criminal, infamous.” Indeed, concern regarding politicians’ dubious dealings have been common throughout history.

Cicero’s demand that politicians not exploit the state is pretty ethically uncontroversial. However, there is a more nuanced question here than should politicians do their job morally. The question of the personal moral character of politicians and what this means for their suitability as statesmen is far more complex. Does it matter to us if a world leader acts immorally in private when they are good at their job of being a politician? That is, if they lead the country, protect their citizens, and communicate clearly with those they’re responsible for/to, then why should we care about their extracurricular ethical deficiencies?

To illustrate, let’s use a thought experiment. Imagine an election has been called to decide your country’s next leader. Candidate A is known to be morally admirable – they recycle, don’t cheat on their partner, give generously to charity, don’t lie, etc. On the other hand, Candidate B does the opposite – they lie, cheat, throw all their rubbish in the same bin, hoard their wealth, etc. After a brutal campaign, both candidates demonstrate their suitability for the job in equal measure. With nearly all the votes counted, there’s a tie. Yours is the only vote left to be cast. As such, you get to decide who the newest world leader is. Whom do you pick, and why?

On the one hand, you might think it’s obvious – you pick Candidate A as they are objectively better than Candidate B. In addition to doing the job, Candidate A is also a good person, and that’s valuable. After all, immorality is, by definition, bad (we might want to value it as -1). This undesirability is evident compared to the amoral (which we could value at 0) and even more so when compared to the morally good (which we can value as +1). Thus, if you end up with an effective leader regardless, why would you pick Candidate B, who comes with a negative value (-1), when you could instead have Candidate A, who comes with a positive value (+1). In other words, why settle for less when you can have more?

Complementing this self-centered approach, those favoring the morally virtuous leader may also ground their reasoning in justice. We typically think that the immoral shouldn’t succeed at the expense of the moral; there is something right in rewarding those who act morally and punishing, or at least not rewarding, those who don’t. To actively choose Candidate B over Candidate A would fly in the face of this sense of justice. It would indicate that individual integrity is divisible from the mainstay of professional ethics. That personal moral failing can be disregarded in decisions about who should(n’t) be rewarded in professional capacities. In short, when all other things are equal, justice demands that bad people shouldn’t succeed and good people should. Thus, Candidate A is the just choice.

On the other hand, it’s plausible to argue in favor of, or at least of not discounting, Candidate B simply because they possess some personal moral failings. After all, who among us is entirely virtuous?

As we’ve already established, the two candidates are equally qualified. Thus, we have to ask why it matters that one acts in a morally dubious manner and the other doesn’t. Could it be that we’re acting upon some ill-formed or reactionary intuition? After all, we don’t think in these terms when we consider a person’s suitability for other jobs or tasks. For example, if you need surgery, the idea that you would pick from a list of equally qualified surgeons based on whether one was faithful to their partner would seem bizarre. In this situation, what matters is that person’s capacity to fulfill the role’s requirements. Anything outside that scope is inconsequential. So, just as we would think it insignificant that a capable surgeon acts immorally when not on-call, we might feel the same about a world leader – provided that they can undertake the task of effectively leading the nation, all other considerations should fall to the wayside.

As with many thought experiments, you might consider this one’s parameters to be too restrictive or even implausible. The pessimistic (or some may say realistic) of you may argue that the very qualities that make one a practical head of state are the same qualities that would tarnish one’s personal ethical record. As noted in Machiavelli’s The Prince:

“And again, he need not make himself uneasy at incurring a reproach for those vices without which the state can only be saved with difficulty, for if everything is considered carefully, it will be found that something which looks like virtue, if followed, would be his ruin; whilst something else, which looks like vice, yet followed brings him security and prosperity.”

For Machiavelli, those qualities which make someone a good person are not the same as those that make them a great leader. Indeed, often those qualities may impede one’s ability to do their job as a politician. That, at the end of the day, the requirements of statehood demand that one lie, deceive, subjugate, battle, and even kill others – things that we would otherwise decry as vices and sins if not for the fact that the role of world leader required them.

Where does this leave us then? Do politicians need to be moral, and are we right in expecting them to be? While it may seem obvious to say yes – to decry the idea of an immoral leader – we have to be aware that we may be moralizing in a way that we wouldn’t do for people in other roles. Furthermore, we might even be doing our country a disservice by trying to install a leader who, under any other circumstance, might be considered a good person.

August 7, 2020December 14, 2022

Does Character Matter?

One infamous feature of the Trump era is the shocking decline in the proportion of Republican voters who say that the president’s moral character matters to them. According to a recent Gallup poll, during the Clinton administration 86 percent of Republicans thought it was very important for “a president to provide moral leadership for the country.” In 2018, that number was down to 63 percent. The almost inescapable conclusion is that Republicans have simply dropped the requirement of good character — or perhaps made a special exception — in light of President Trump’s obvious moral turpitude.

However, in a certain way the shift is understandable. Although we may think that good moral character is desirable in our elected officials, it is less clear why this should be so. After all, it seems plausible that we ought to support politicians who will be most successful at their jobs, and that the success of an elected official consists solely in successful governance. But moral character is, at best, a weak indicator of a person’s capacity to govern. For example, Robert Caro’s monumental biography of President Lyndon Johnson conclusively demonstrates that he was a real piece of work, but he was also a fabulously effective politician. On the other hand, it is doubtful whether Mother Teresa could have become, like Johnson, a “master of the Senate,” despite — or perhaps because of — her saintly disposition. Thus, if we think that capacity to govern is the sole criteria of success for a politician, then it seems that moral character does not matter a great deal. Much more relevant is a would-be leader’s record of managing and utilizing unwieldy bureaucracies.

On the other hand, most people seem to have a strong intuition that it would be impermissible to allow a murderer or rapist to hold office, no matter how effective they are at governing. So, we are confronted with two contradictory intuitions: that we ought to support politicians solely based on their capacity to govern, and that we ought not support certain morally egregious politicians regardless of their capacity to govern. Something has got to give.

One might question the claim that moral character is a weak indicator of a person’s capacity to govern. An ancient strand of political thought stretching back to Plato and Aristotle has it that virtue is a necessary attribute of a successful leader since effective statecraft requires practical wisdom, and practical wisdom is both the crown of the practical virtues and cannot exist without them. Anecdotally, the evidence is at best unclear. After all, President Johnson will perhaps be forever known for his disastrous decision to escalate the war in Vietnam, a decision that may have been due, at least in part, to certain character flaws. Likewise, President Trump’s cruelty and stupidity seems to be reflected in his many cruel and stupid policies. At the same time, there are surely instances of morally exemplary characters who perform poorly in political office. Thus, a more systematic study than is possible here would be required to make this objection stick.

Another place that some have pushed back on the argument is the implicit claim that successful governance has nothing to do with having a morally good character. What if exercising virtue is part of governing? If to govern is, at least in part, to provide moral leadership, then an elected official’s acts of humility, kindness, justice, and prudence are also acts of governing. If this is the case, then when, for example, a president consoles victims of a natural disaster or school shooting, makes a wise decision about during a foreign policy crisis, or celebrates the civic contributions of particular citizens, these are all at least arguably instances of governing, and yet also (at their best) authentic demonstrations of virtue.

Another weak point of the argument against moral character is the claim that we ought, without qualification, to support politicians who will be most successful at their jobs. Of course, it is important that politicians be successful, since governing is a kind of job that one can do well or badly. But a political office is also a position that comes with a tremendous number of perks; it is not just a reward, but it certainly is one. Because of this, some have argued that we ought to assess a politician not only with respect to how successful she is in policy terms, but also in terms of whether she deserves to hold political office, with all of its advantages. It is this idea that, I believe, best explains why we feel that we ought not support a murderer or rapist for office, no matter how good they are at governing. At minimum, we think that there is a moral threshold below which a politician is disqualified from the advantages of office. Where exactly that threshold lies is a matter of debate, as is whether a politician can re-qualify herself by properly atoning for her moral failures.

In short, we should reject the argument that character does not matter for three reasons. First, it is not at all clear that character is only a weak indicator of the ability to govern. Second, the exercise of virtue is itself part of effective governance. Finally, because political office is accompanied by various perquisites, some decrepit characters may not merit it. With a firmer grip on why character matters, it may hopefully be easier for people to avoid inconsistently applying the character standard to their assessments of politicians.

April 25, 2019December 14, 2022

Bad Behavior During Political Primaries

photo of empty studio with debate podiums

The new presidential election cycle brings with it both a sense of hope for the future and cause for frustration over bad behavior in an increasingly hostile political environment. As primary candidates emerge, it’s worth pausing for reflection on what appropriate behavior during the primary season and beyond looks like.

This may be interpreted as a pragmatic question. If we understand it in this way, the question amounts to something like: how should members of a political party behave if they want their party’s candidate to ultimately win the general election? Notice that this is not necessarily a moral question. It may turn out to be the case that the best way to get a candidate elected is to behave as morally as possible, but recent elections don’t lend a lot of support for that view. It may turn out that playing fast and loose with facts and spreading misleading or outright false information on the internet is useful for getting a candidate elected, but such behavior is likely unethical. On the other hand, some argue that what really matters at the end of the day are the consequences of the election. According to this view, the ends justify the means. Though there may be something to the view that consequences matter most, one significant consequence of this kind of behavior worth taking into account is that it contributes to the decline in critical thinking skills of the population at large, and it diminishes the trust that we have for one another. This could potentially result in an irredeemably broken political system.

One of the most visible issues during the primary season is the way that voters treat candidates running against their preferred candidate choice. There is nothing wrong with passionately supporting a candidate; in fact, caring deeply about politics is, at least on its face, a virtue. Politics matter, and many political choices are moral choices—people suffer to a lesser or greater degree depending on what kinds of policies are implemented. It makes sense to support the candidate that you believe will maximize well-being. But what does this entail about how the other candidates in the field should be treated?

Now that so many of our behaviors and comments are recorded and easily accessed decades after the fact, there are many more considerations that can be brought to bear on the decision of which candidate to support. The past behavior of a potential candidate matters. We need to take a look at how a candidate has voted in the past, the ways in which that candidate reliably treats other people, and the virtues and vices that might be easily observable in their character. But we need to use good critical thinking practices when we make these judgments. First of all, we should make sure that we are employing consistent standards across the field of candidates. No person exhibits perfect behavior in every circumstance. It will always be possible to point to some bad decision making on the part of any candidate. Like offenses should be treated in similar ways. We should avoid treating behaviors as disqualifying in an opposing candidate that we wouldn’t treat as disqualifying in the case of our own preferred candidate. It’s also important to recognize that some bad behavior is worse than others and we need reasons beyond our political preferences for treating a particular instance of bad behavior as disqualifying.
A further question worth considering is the standard to which it is appropriate to hold candidates for political office. We often treat our family and close friends with empathy and compassion. We recognize that people grow and evolve and make mistakes in the process. As a result, we are frequently willing to forgive those to whom we are close. How much forgiveness should we be willing to offer candidates for office if they express contrition for past bad behaviors?

We also need to resolve the question of how to react to various changes both in people and in political, social, and ethical climates. There is some language that it is arguably inappropriate to use in any context, but it is also important to recognize that language is dynamic and changes over time. Should we judge comments made by candidates according to the social standards of the current environment, or should we view them in the context of the environment in which they were expressed?

The same considerations apply to a political candidate’s voting record if they have previously served as a legislator. This is a real challenge, because it is undeniable that bad legislation exists and we shouldn’t minimize that fact. On the other hand, very few people follow politics closely enough to be fully aware of the political context in which particular decisions are made, especially when those decisions are decades old. Hindsight is 20/20, and often the folly of past political decisions is weaponized. One proposal for the way we should look at a candidate’s record is in terms of what their reliable dispositions seem to be. If a candidate routinely, through the course of a career, makes decisions that, for example, put poor people at a disadvantage, then it is appropriate to conclude that the candidate in question is bad for poor people. It is unproductive to use isolated political decisions out of context to score points against a candidate we dislike.

There is a big picture to keep in mind. Some primary candidates maybe better than others, and it may turn out to be the case that a charismatic candidate wins over a candidate with more productive substantive policy proposals. If we want ideals that resemble our own to prevail because we think those ideals aren’t just political, but are, fundamentally, moral ideals it would be useful to have a theoretical framework in mind in advance for what kinds of behaviors count as disqualifying, and to treat candidates accordingly.