Dear Ali,Â
This week, Iâve been thinking about an old-fashioned word: prudence. As in, âthe ability to govern and discipline oneself by the use of reason.â
For weeks, everyoneâs been telling me to vote. Politicians. Celebrities. Instagram. The company that sells me bowls of meat and vegetables. The company that made my glasses. Just do it! Itâs easy. You get a sticker.
And so, on a Thursday night, I sat down to perform my civic duty. My dinner was a mistake: grilled cheese and tomato soup. Could a red splatter invalidate a ballot? I slurped, marked my vote for president, and flipped over the ballot.
There, on the other side, were more choices. What to do now? Not so easy.
Who were all of these local candidates? What were all of these ballot initiatives? Not just the big ones, like Prop 22 (which passed), allowing companies like Uber and Postmates to classify their workers as independent contractors, and Prop 16 (which didnât), which would have reinstated affirmative action. There were state initiatives about cash bail, property taxes, and the voting age. There were local initiatives about water and public transit. Candidates for the school board and city council wrote position statements, but didnât provide a party affiliation. There was no way to take the easy way out and vote a straight ticket. And though some of the propositions clearly were partisan, most were not: at least, not obviously.
What was there to do but read? I sat with my pencil and underlined candidatesâ statements about curriculum and test scores, tech oversight and housing prices. I clicked through local newspapers for opinions, learning the history of California cybersecurity and kidney-dialysis lobbies.     Â
Nobody on NPR had told me what to think about these issues. Or at least, these issues, in this place, with this history and context. How could I possibly make the right choice?
Positions wouldnât help me here. Neither would party platforms. I was going to have to make a decision on my own: just me and my pal, prudence.
Iâm not sure why this word has kept coming to mind during this election season. Definitely not because itâs back in vogue as a baby nameâŠ
My husband, an early American historian, vetted the above source.
Prudence is a very antiquated virtue. Its definition includes the following words and phrases: âcaution,â âdiscipline,â âgood judgment,â âshrewdness in the management of affairs.â Twitterâs antithesis! (Sorry, couldnât resist.)
But prudence is timely, especially for a moment when our politics and personal relations encourage us to take positions and stick to them.
For example:
Masks are always bad; masks are always good.
School reopening is a travesty; school reopening is a must.
We have to get back to work, no matter what; we have to wait for a vaccine, no matter what!
Faced with tricky casesâmasks for very young children? masks while exercising outside? school for kids who need a place to eat free lunch? teachers with preexisting conditions? visit an ailing parent, or stay away? visit a lonely friend, or stay away? support a local business, or stay home?âwe break down. It feels like thereâs no room for discussion, ambiguity, and judgment. Weâre paralyzed by our own stancesâand our subsequent confusion.
Someone who practices âprudenceâ doesnât take hardline positions. She values caution, humility, and flexibility. She doesnât always know the right thing right awayâso she gathers information, weighs options, and allows for ambiguity and contingency. She considers the impact of her decision on those around her. Then, she humbly makes a choice: perhaps not the same one someone else would make, but a valid one, nonetheless.Â
This is the virtue I needed when filling out my ballot. It made me very uncomfortable! It made me squirmy not to have already decided the right thing to do. Instead I had a few op-eds, a paper voter guide, a cold bowl of soup (voting took a long time), and my thoughts. But the bubbles got filled in; the vote was dropped off. Perhaps we all have more prudence than we give ourselves credit for.
Love,
Kate
My book recommendation: Chekhovâs stories
Do you want some reading that will match our nationâs collective mood? Might I recommend turning to the Russian tradition! Namely, pick up some Chekhov short stories. (Dry. Sardonic. Not too optimistic about the futureâŠ)
The book:Â Selected Stories of Anton Chekhov
My rating: đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„
Read more: The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky (which I was supposed to read in college and did not finishâŠdonât tell Professor FisherâŠ)
P.S. A few Internet pleasuresâŠ
This Radiolab episode about voting blocs (âTrader Joe Republicansâ!)
This recipe for orange-cranberry buns (very time-consuming, good distraction)