You’ve got to stand for something, or you’ll fall for anything.
So goes the chorus of an old Aaron Tippin song.
Whenever I hear it on the radio, I get fired up.
Heck yes, we should stand for something, I think. There’s no use in being wishy-washy.
I’ve taken such perspective as gospel for years. But now, I’m starting to question this mantra.
Back in 2004, John Kerry was campaigning to be the United States President.
The Massachusetts senator had an uphill battle against him. The nation was only three years removed from the 9/11 terror attacks. American combat operations in Afghanistan and Iraq were nascent. And the incumbent president — George W. Bush — continued to earn strong marks for his handling of the job.
However, Kerry — the Democratic nominee — saw a window of opportunity. As the military got entangled in conflicts in the Middle East, reporters scrutinized President Bush’s prior service in the Air National Guard.
There were rumors that President Bush had sought to avoid combat in the Vietnam War, which was escalating during his time in the Air National Guard. And there were open questions about whether the president had fulfilled his military service.
Kerry pounced on this opening. He had served as a Swift Boat captain in the United States Navy, earning a Silver Star, a Bronze Star, and three Purple Hearts for his service in Vietnam. Kerry made it a point to feature such accolades in his campaign, contrasting it to President Bush’s dubious service record.
In a country that loves stories of military valor, this strategy seemed like a slam dunk. But Kerry’s efforts quickly hit substantial headwinds.
A political organization — Swift Vets and POWs for Truth — challenged Kerry’s narrative, claiming he had misrepresented his service in Vietnam. The group also claimed that Kerry’s later criticism of the Vietnam War represented a betrayal of military trust.
Kerry tried to defend himself against these accusations, but they stuck. He became known as a flip-flopper — someone who would shift between opposing stances on a topic. He went on to lose the presidential election by a wide margin.
Swift Vets and POWs for Truth later disbanded, and the group’s claims were eventually discredited. But the damage had been done.
For many, John Kerry had defied the Aaron Tippin Edict. He had failed to fall for something. And as president, he was liable to fall for anything.
Four years after the Swift Boat scandal, I was eligible to vote in a presidential election for the first time. Kerry was not running for office in 2008, but I still scrutinized the candidates closely for inconsistencies.
Were they true to their word? I asked myself. Did anyone flip-flop?
I repeated this exercise for another decade. Linearity was the best policy, I told myself.
I should have known better.
It is not the strongest of the species that survives, not the most intelligent. It is the one that is most adaptable to change.
Those words come from Charles Darwin.
Darwin is notorious for his work with modern evolutionary theory. But the foundations of his principles continue to elude us.
Darwin saw evolution more as an arc than a straight line. As the environment changed, the process of natural selection would pick new targets. Only the most adaptable species could stay in the running each time the landscape shifted.
Evolutionary theory underpins much of our society these days. Modern capitalism, pop culture, and even the trajectory of industry all reward those who are most adaptable to the demands of a changing world.
Yet, we fail to get the memo when it comes to assessing our own viewpoints. Those Aaron Tippin lyrics fill our minds, and we feel determined to take a stand.
We refuse to admit that life is not linear. We refuse to change, even as the circumstances at hand shift drastically.
Such shortcomings have been made all too apparent during the recent pandemic. As an unknown disease spread around the globe, guidance on how to ward it off shifted.
An early focus on physical distancing and handwashing morphed into a new approach — wearing face coverings and getting inoculated. Activities that were shamed in the early days of the disease — such as small outdoor gatherings — were later deemed safe and preferable.
The shifting advice was as frustrating as it was confusing. Some defied it all together — rallying against masking, business restrictions, or vaccine adoption. Others refused to change their ways as the guidance evolved further.
These actions have led to strained social relationships, and they’ve accelerated the toll levied by the pandemic. Many have blamed the rebellious for these outcomes — pointing to their selfishness and lack of empathy.
These people do have some impact on the outcome, for sure. But our expectations are equally to blame.
For the more we follow the playbook laid out by Swift Vets and POW’s for Truth — demanding linearity above all else — the more we stand to lose.
Polarization will only go up. Discourse will only go down. And our ability to make choices that meet the moment will disintegrate.
Knowing all this, it’s hard not to turn a critical eye toward those Aaron Tippin lyrics.
Having a backbone does matter. But it might not be the panacea we think it is.
An immovable conviction may protect us from manipulation. But it can also close the door to coalition.
And to fix what ails us, a coalition is exactly what we need.
It’s my hope that we can move beyond our differences. That we can restart discourse, both in politics and broader society. That we can face the needs of an evolving world, rather than anchoring ourselves in principle.
But this work can only start if we free ourselves from the linearity trap. It can only take flight if we accept that our views might change with the times.
Yes, we do need to stand for something. But that something should be openness.
Openness to connection. Openness to information. Openness to change.
I’m ready to meet the moment. Are you?