PERSPECTIVE FROM THE 19^TH HOLE: This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf. Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all of my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon, as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist. This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write.

When it comes to politics, one of my favorite words is “civility.”

It’s often what’s missing in today’s definition of politics which, spurred by President Donald Trump, rests on dissension and innuendo, not civility and common ground.

That’s why one of my favorite quotes is from General Colin Powell when, several years ago, he declined to run for president because, he said, ”he bemoaned the loss of civility in politics.”

Imagine what Powell would say today.

So it was that, yesterday, I came across a thought-provoking column in the Washington Post by Steven Beschloss, author of “The Gunman and His Mother,” and a professor at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication at Arizona State University.

His posit: Given the huge issues at stake in today’s politics, civility may not be the highest goal.

“There is no question,” Beschloss wrote, “that the use of uncivil language by politicians, commentators and journalists has escalated. I count myself among those who have felt reluctantly obliged to choose increasingly vivid words to accurately capture and respond to a growing picture of criminality and corruption and an increasing awareness that the president of the United States acts with a level of anti-democratic malignancy and cruelty I fear puts our institutions, global alliances and vulnerable populations in increasing danger.”

Using a down-to-earth image, Beschloss continues: “But if you believe your house is on fire and your family faces death and destruction, is it appropriate to engage in pleasant and polite tones when speaking to the alleged arsonist and his accomplices? Is that not the time to speak and act with clarity to spur action and put out the fire?”

To illustrate his point, Beschloss points to the impeachment trial in the U.S. Senate. There, he wondered if Supreme Court Justice John
Roberts did enough when he reminded advocates to avoid language “not conducive to civil discourse.”

He also reminded lawyers for both sides that they were speaking the well of the “world’s great deliberative body” (I ask if that title is really appropriate today), so they should watch their words and their conduct.

By his reminders, Beschloss asks whether Roberts “helped shift the focus from damning facts.”

“Of course, the answer is not to toss aside decorum or the basic process of governance, one in which elected officials treat each other with courtesy and decency as they hammer out their differences over issues of the day.

“There is a real danger that when each side further inflames the other, matters may slip out of control. Finding points of mutual understanding can seem increasingly impossible, accelerating the toxic division and making the very notion of moderation lose all relevance.

“But when civility means treating both sides as equal, when a mind-bending onslaught of lies (The Washington Post counts over 16,000 ;false or misleading claims’ by Trump in his first three years in office) is expected to be met with courtesy, a demand for civility risks becoming an instrument of power by the majority party to neutralize or even silence criticism and the critics.”

As provided by the Washington Post, here is additional background on Roberts’ comments from Senate rostrum:

“Well past midnight on the first day of President Trump’s Senate impeachment trial this week, after nearly 12 hours of increasingly acerbic comments by the House managers prosecuting the case and the White House lawyers defending the president, Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. interjected.

“In his typically calm tone, the presiding Roberts reminded both sides that they were ‘addressing the world’s greatest deliberative body.’

“He said the Senate had ‘earned that title because its members avoid speaking in a manner and using language that is not conducive to civil discourse.’ He even offered a charming anecdote about a 1905 Senate impeachment trial in which one of the managers dared to use the word ‘pettifogging’ in that hallowed chamber. ‘I don’t think we need to aspire to that high of a standard,’ Roberts said, musing over the objection to a term that meant overemphasizing petty details, ‘but I do think those addressing the Senate should remember where they are.’”

On its face, Beschloss writes, the admonishment sounded like a good and healthy thing, an encouragement for respect, a reminder of Senate history — not only a call for civil discourse, but a gently delivered act of civility itself.

But Roberts’s words, however, “failed to take into account the backdrop: A deeply partisan and increasingly authoritarian political dynamic that has catapulted the country into a moment of crisis. In this context, the smooth veneer of civility, rather than being uplifting, might actually facilitate the downward spiral. In this context, civility is dangerous, a weapon that serves both as a shield, covering up malign acts, and a sword, parried at the opponent who dares to be ‘uncivil’ and so shifting the focus away from the true danger.”

Beschloss expects more of Roberts than most think Roberts will provide as he seeks to remain above the fray.

Still, with all that is at stake, I wish for civility. Courteous discourse is the only way our government will survive and find the center – the smart middle ground – on a host of issues that threaten to drive us apart, not bring us together.

In this way, just call me PolyAnna.