
The most dangerous political blindness isn’t failing to see what the other side is doing. It’s seeing what your own side is doing—and finding a reason to excuse it.
We like to believe the threat to our liberty always comes from them. Republicans point at Democrats. Democrats point at Republicans. Conservatives point toward Washington. Tennesseans point toward Nashville. And while we’re busy watching the other team, government keeps growing.
Look at Washington.
Our national debt has climbed beyond $40 trillion. Government spends more than it takes in year after year. Surveillance powers have expanded far beyond what many Americans would have imagined possible a generation ago. And the argument is almost always the same: We need these powers for your protection.
Then look at Nashville.
Tennessee has no $38 trillion debt—but that doesn’t mean we should stop paying attention to the steady expansion of government, spending, taxes and fees, regulations, and the willingness of politicians to spend other people’s money whenever they can justify it.
The problem isn’t confined to Washington. It’s a mindset.
And here’s where we, the voters, have to accept some responsibility.
We become outraged when the other party expands government. We call it tyranny when they spend too much. We condemn surveillance when the other administration uses it. We demand constitutional restraint when the other party holds power.
But when our own candidate does essentially the same thing?
We suddenly discover exceptions.
“But this is different.”
“Our guy has a good reason.”
“We have to do this because of the circumstances.”
“At least they’re better than the other side.”
That’s how principles become preferences.
That’s how constitutional limits become suggestions.
And that’s how liberty gets eroded—not necessarily in one dramatic event, but one exception at a time, one spending bill at a time, one new government program at a time, one surveillance authority at a time.
History gives us an uncomfortable lesson here. The Holocaust is not an appropriate comparison to contemporary American politics, and pretending otherwise trivializes one of history’s greatest atrocities. But there is a broader lesson from history that is worth remembering: free societies depend upon citizens who are willing to pay attention and refuse to look away when government exceeds its proper authority.
And today, too many Americans simply aren’t paying attention.
We obsess over presidential elections while treating congressional, gubernatorial, state legislative, and local elections like they don’t matter.
But Nashville doesn’t stop governing because it’s an off year. Washington doesn’t stop spending because it’s an off year.
Yet millions of Americans can’t be bothered to vote.
And that is more than apathy.
Apathy is a political choice—even when we don’t realize we’re making one.
When you don’t vote, you haven’t removed yourself from the political process. You’ve simply allowed someone else to make the decision.
The special interest still votes.
The political machine still votes.
The government employee still votes.
The activist still votes.
The person who desperately wants something from government still votes.
You just didn’t.
And then we act surprised when Nashville and Washington don’t look the way we want them to look.
The answer isn’t to blindly elect Republicans. It isn’t to blindly elect Democrats. And it certainly isn’t to defend everything a politician does simply because the candidate has an R or D beside their name.
The answer is to become citizens instead of fans.
Judge Nashville by the same standard you use to judge Washington.
Judge Republicans by the same standard you use to judge Democrats.
Judge Democrats by the same standard you use to judge Republicans.
Judge your own candidate more harshly than the candidate you already know you dislike.
If warrantless surveillance is wrong, it’s wrong regardless of who authorizes it.
If reckless government spending is wrong, it’s wrong regardless of who spends the money.
If a $40-trillion-plus national debt threatens our children’s future, changing the party responsible for adding to it doesn’t make the debt disappear.
And if Nashville passes legislation that expands government beyond what we believe government should be doing, we shouldn’t excuse it simply because the people who passed it are the people we voted for.
Liberty doesn’t have a political party.
Neither does fiscal responsibility.
Neither does the Constitution.
And neither does our obligation as citizens to hold our own side accountable.
Otherwise, we’re not really defending freedom.
We’re sitting in the stands, cheering for our team while Nashville and Washington spend our money, expand their power, and gradually spend our freedom.
And the most frightening part?
We may not notice how much we’ve surrendered until we finally decide to look up.
