Confessions of a third party sinner

Sam Smith – Back in the 1990s, when John Rensenbrink asked me to come to a Green Party organized meeting, I told him, “I’m not good enough to be a Green.” Rensenbrink replied like a Tammany Hall pro, "That's all right Sam, there'll be a libertarian there, too." Later, I would describe myself as the chair of the Big Mac caucus of the Green Party because, even with my participation in its birthing, I didn't always feel completely at home.

Although I had a reputation for being ahead of the curve, my introduction to politics had been in places like Philadelphia and Boston where the words “decent” and “political” were rarely used in the same paragraph. I had learned that change occurred between elections, not as  a result of them, and that politicians were reactivists, not activists.

But I was not opposed to pushing the limits. I was one of the founders in 1970 of the DC Statehood Party, which actually held a seat on the city council and/or school board for 25 years. And while the party is politically weak these days, its underlying cause has the support of 80% of the city and has been approved for the first time by the House of Representatives.

What I had learned was the third parties are just another tool for getting things done. And they work best at the local level. They aren’t a church of higher virtue or a refuge for the sainted. If they work, great. If not, try something else.

And so, among my numerous subsequent sins, I have, since moving to Maine, adopted the practice of changing my registration to Democratic in time to vote in the primary and then switching back.

Up to now that’s worked pretty well. But at a time when there is no cause more important that getting rid of Donald Trump, I find myself repelled by the self-righteousness of those who, because they correctly summarize some of the faults of our times, assume a vote carried out in piety rather than pragmatism will actually make a difference.

Because I am, as Marion Barry once described me, a cynical cat, I want nothing to do with sanctimony at the polls. I just want the most practical best answer.

The numbers lend support to my approach. For example, between 2010 and 2020 the Green Party nationally has increased in numbers a  grand total of 232 voters. Meanwhile in Maine, where the Greens have long been important at the state and local level, the party membership has gone up over 10,000 members, a one third increase. Clearly, treating the party as a local action tool rather than a national declaration of sainthood makes a lot of sense.

And so, as I look at the blank voter registration card of the sort I used to switch to Democrat a few months back, and now puzzle when to become a Green again, just writing this piece has inspired me to do nothing until after the election. I’ll vote for Biden and Sarah Gideon (seeking to beat Senator Collins) and shortly after the vote will become a Maine, rather than a national, Green again.