We're Biologically Programmed to Love Hogwash in Political Debates

Last night was the twentieth (!) Republican debate in the run-up to the GOP’s nomination of their man for president. As has been the case at just about every debate so far, the Arizona CNN debate was exceedingly popular. Ratings were through the roof, the crowd was riled up, and my Twitter timeline was flooded with groaning commentary and bemused humor.

The thing I can’t figure out is what us regular folk are getting out of modern political debates, which are so full of hogwash they’ve crossed well into the absurd. Let’s note the fact that a debate in Arizona, right after Time declared the Latino vote decisive in the state, featured an audience that was 99 percent white and almost completely ignored any immigration questions. Remember that moderator John King was booed by the audience when he started into questions about birth control, which is one of the hottest topics in the race right now.

I’m stuck waving my arms and firing out questions like these softie moderators wish they could. When debates seem so blatantly goofball and substance-free, why does anyone care? Why does anyone get worked up about them, whether pro or con? Why do the participants even waste their time prepping for these things when they just ignore prompts to talk about whatever they want? There’s one question that really sticks out to me though: when the debate fervor is so widespread, does that mean we’re biologically predisposed to watching talking heads blather at each other?

If we’re feeling generous, a debate is really a test of wills of the ilk that we’ve romanticized throughout human history. There’s something inherently noble and satisfying about seeing a duel, whether it’s rams smashing, elephant seals slicing each other up, or Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris battling to the death in the Coliseum.

These type of battles are something we’ve all evolved around. The lovely rams have myriad adaptations to deal with the skull-rattling blows they inflict upon each other without concussing themselves into oblivion. If we’re talking debates, human intelligence has continually increased throughout our history, especially with the continual refinement of education, as noted by the Flynn Effect.

All this effort put into head-smashing and brain-building only happens if it’s worth it. And, truly, it is: Animal duels, whether it be wolves or lions, have large prizes at stake, like harems or first dibs on kills. Such is the theoretical value of a debate, as well: Showing well in a debate puts one that much closer to the White House, which comes with a wealth of perks, status, and connections just like any other alpha individual would.

The biggest difference between a duel in the natural world and the kind of softball debates that we have now is that it’s too easy for debaters to cheat. A ram duel is designed to find the male with peak fitness and strength, both indicators of genetic and mate quality. A sickly individual can’t fake that. But when debates are poorly moderated, audiences are fiercely protective of candidates (no matter what they say), and fact check articles — despite their insane popularity – are too fucking wimpy to actually say a candidate lied, preferring “half-truth” and other make-believe, there’s no accountability. With high stakes, and no repercussions, anyone who wants to win is going to be cheating the game.

What’s strange about the whole thing is that we’re all evolutionarily hardwired to point out and shame cheaters. Sure, some people on either side of any debate end up doing so, and kudos to them, but why haven’t all the other folk called bullshit on the whole thing?

Well, politics is a hell of a thing in that the best players are masters at convincing the average Joe that he’s got skin in the game. So, while the guy who’s portrayed himself representing your ideals is bashing his skull against some other dude, who ads say is ‘against’ you, you let the hogwash slide because you’re convinced that everything you hold near and dear — guns, tax breaks, harsh immigration laws, harems — is at risk, and there’s one guy battling to save them. And such is the dastardly beauty of politics, and the reason debates are still relevant: By wrapping your ideals into the prize package, you’re convinced that the guy on stage blabbing away is representing you, the proverbial ram.

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