Hope may be a theological virtue, an inspiration or an aspiration, even a town in Arkansas, but hope is not a strategy.  Hope is not a plan.  General Colin Powell knew that; Coach Vince Lombardi knew that, and most any ancient or current military commander would concur.  Nonetheless, as Alexander Pope wrote in the 1700s, hope springs eternal.  We see that every day, through the tears of the parents whose young campers still are missing in the Texas flood; cancer patients seeking a cure; Nationals baseball fans looking for an eventual winning season; or lottery ticket buyers praying for the winning Power Ball.  

Simply a look at news headlines recently – continuing war in Ukraine, unprovoked shootings at refugee feeding locations in Gaza; American bombing of Iran’s nuclear sites; wildfires in Crete and elsewhere; concerns about the effect of Artificial Intelligence (AI) on society; the national debt increases in Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill – can tempt you to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head. Instead, most of us hope that things will get better, that violence will cease, the natural environment will recover, and that “somebody” will lead us out of the morass.  Hope can be fragile, as delicate as diaphanous spider silk, or strong as steel. As an aspiration, hope is fine, but it’s not a strategy, not a plan.

Pulling a plan together is tough these days, as the “my way or the highway” approach often fails to consider the many divergent views that need to be included in good planning, trying to find a “sweet spot” that everyone at the table can support, even if not wholeheartedly. Democrats need a plan if they want to regain Congressional leadership and, ultimately, the White House.  New, younger leadership, from geographically separate areas of the nation (both House and Senate Democratic leadership is held by New Yorkers) would be a start. Many of today’s ruby red Rocky Mountain states had Democratic Senators (some still do), but Democrats ceded that territory, especially at the local and state levels, during the Reagan Revolution.  The takeover was aided by young Republican operatives like Roger Stone, Paul Manafort, and Karl Rove, not young anymore, but who still are involved with the Grand Old Party.  

The plan must appeal to voters who have become detached and disinterested in politics, or even in voting, because they feel their vote is no longer important.  As we are seeing with more citizens adopting the “independent” label, political parties that focus primarily on their “base” are more polarized and doctrinaire, leaving little room for cooperation and conciliation of disparate viewpoints.  When I was a local elected official, some constituents would ask if I would talk with them since they were not of the same party or didn’t vote for me.  I always assured them that I represented everyone in Mason District, not just those who voted for me.  That’s a gentle reminder to those in higher elected office.  Listening can be a virtue, too.

Demonizing and placing blame makes politics a blood sport rather than finding solutions through reasoned discussions and debate.  There are many pieces that make up today’s political jigsaw puzzle.  Many of those pieces can fit together with a little effort, some will need to be flipped around to fit, and a few, perhaps, will fall on the floor.  A good, solid political plan with more than one “sweet spot” can help figure out where we each fit into the great American puzzle, and return to rational governance, rather than hope and chaos.