AS ANOTHER Trump scandal breaks, I’ve found myself reflecting on the absurdity of the modern political race.

I know I’m not alone in my exasperation and downright disbelief that this man is still in the running for the highest political office. How can someone who wants to build an anti-immigration wall and with his attitude to women still be one vote from the White House?

This week, a tape emerged of Trump admitting to groping women and using his fame as a means to getting away with it. Surely, we thought, an apology would follow? Republicans, democrats and the wider world seemed unanimous in their condemnation of his behaviour. But what we got actually isn’t really recognisable as an apology. It’s the sort of insipid, tit-for-tat argument a child would be admonished for making:

“This was locker room banter, a private conversation that took place many years ago. Bill Clinton has said far worse to me on the golf course – not even close. I apologise if anyone was offended.”

So – a lukewarm admission of wrongdoing, a soupçon of regret and a healthy portion of deflection. It’s a sharp demonstration of a person existing in a world the rest of us don’t inhabit. Yet, somehow, this is someone chosen by the masses as a presidential candidate.

Two decades ago, facing similar disillusionment with the US’s chosen representatives, artist Zoe Leonard wrote a protest letter in response to the presidential election campaign between Ross Perot and Bill Clinton. The piece begins:

“I want a person with Aids for president and I want a fag for vice-president and I want someone with no health insurance and I want someone who grew up in a place where the earth is so saturated with toxic waste that they didn’t have a choice about getting leukaemia. I want a president that had an abortion at sixteen and I want a candidate who isn’t the lesser of two evils.”

This month, an enormous copy of the poem has been pasted on a wall of New York’s High Line Park. Performance artist Mykki Blanco has also created a hard-hitting spoken-word piece. It’s been recycled because two decades on, it still perfectly encapsulates the frustrations of having someone so out of touch with reality as a potential commander in chief. It shows a desire to see something human and grounded in the people that steer the ship. Something that today is far from front and centre in a political campaign.

A couple of years ago, I read a book called Quiet by Susan Cain, about the power of reserved leadership. Watching the presidential election campaign and the rhetoric surrounding it unfold put me in mind of the first chapter. It examined how over the last century, we have shifted from a culture of values to a culture of personality.

Previously, a person was measured by such things as good citizenship, a sense of duty, their work, good deeds, their honour, reputation, morals, manners and demonstrations of their integrity.

How often do we see that in our leaders?

Moving into the 20th century, coinciding with the dawn of celebrity culture, the framework for getting ahead evolved. Self-help books from the 1920s onwards began to shift their focus from the importance of character to the importance of personality.

The most common words associated with personal development became the likes of being magnetic, fascinating, stunning, attractive, dominant, forceful and energetic.

How often do we see elements of this in our leaders?

Why has personality edged out values in how we quantify a person? It’s far easier to assert your value through a few quick personality hacks than it is to demonstrate the power of lived values and integrity. It’s far easier and far faster to learn to project personality than it is to amass a lifetime of principled conduct. And personality is far more visible. We’re hard-wired to be drawn to people with a certain je ne sais quoi.

You can live based on honesty and principle, but if you’ve not got the charm or charisma to back it up, few are really going to take notice. Those who do notice are far less likely to rhapsodise in your favour than detractors are to shout if you do something anathema. In few places is this dichotomy more readily witnessed than in politics – both at home and in the US.

We live in a society where the traditional media supports and encourages sensationalism and social media fuels celebrity culture. Instead of focusing on talents and virtues, stories in traditional media and conversations on social media centre around a person’s ability to shock or scandalise.

As Professor Jonah Berger, an expert in viral transmission and human judgment, argues, high-arousal emotions stimulate social transmission. We’re far more likely to share stories when we’re outraged than when someone does something nice or noble. That’s what keeps people like Trump at top of mind and on tip of tongue, even when we can see on paper that he’s a terrible choice. Trump is a man devoid of values. If you were to hold him to account against any of the attributes listed above, you’d come away with a pretty dismal picture of him as a person. It’s hard to imagine someone like him getting so far in the race in a time before social media and clickbait became the backbone of campaigning.

Max Weber, father of sociology argued for three types of authority: legal, based on rules and bureaucracy; traditional, based on customs; and charismatic, based on the cult of personality.

Trump is a charismatic leader. In sociological terms, that means he demonstrates personality that sets him apart from ordinary men. In doing that, he’s endowed with exceptional powers or qualities. That’s why despite his obvious personal failings, he has enough footmen to keep him in the running. So Trump can do and say outrageous things and still get away with it.

This heuristic bias towards elevating people with big personalities – both good and bad – is something we must be mindful of. Do we want to elect our leaders based on their words and their personalities, or the values they embody?

If Clinton wins the presidential race– and I sincerely hope she does – this will be a victory for values and good judgment. Sure, she’s not perfect, but if she wins, it gives me hope that even among the clamour, we still ultimately want to seek out and appoint those with a sense of integrity at their core.

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