American politics comes packaged for us every morning--the lesson of the day wrapped in morning headlines. No one is quite certain where the media's assumed political messages come from; they are the old wives' tales of CNN. In all likelihood these rules came from an opinion poll--a Dick Morris poll at that. Yet legitimate or not, CNN pundits, newspaper columnists and fast talkers who speak more quickly than they edit continually repeat certain maxims for Americans.

The first and most basic underscored lesson is that Americans are frustrated with government. This angle can be put into any story, pitting an innocent David against the Goliath-like government. A closely-related variant of this first rule--one that should catch the eye of any college student--is the talk of how youth are divorced from politics.

I have grudgingly recognized, if not accepted, that youth are relatively politically inactive. After all, young people cast only 17 percent of ballots and youth voting rates have fallen steadily since 18-year-olds received the vote, blipping only slightly in 1988 and 1992. But the caricature painted by the media goes beyond portraying a bunch of non-voters. Rather than approaching youth as disenchanted individuals who are otherwise serious, the media paints young people as irresponsible and out of touch: Generation Y, as in why bother? The reaction of campaigns to this message has been to try to pander to youths' perceived greed for entertainment. After watching the WWF wrestler "The Rock" introduce House Speaker Dennis Hastert and seeing Gov. Jesse Ventura flaunt his feather boa, few can question the image of politically irresponsible youth. Thus the media's message has become ingrained in our political culture.

An inherent danger lurks when images are treated as something substantial, because misperceptions lead to poorly targeted would-be solutions. In this case, entertainment-based strategies have failed to draw masses of youth wholeheartedly into the political game. As a result, both the media and politicians have assumed a moralistic bent, exhorting young people about the power of one vote. The electoral crisis in Florida provided an excellent opportunity to harp on the importance of one vote. "Your vote can turn the tide of an election!" screamed the Gore e-mail service, continually alluding to the 1960 election in which John F. Kennedy edged Richard M. Nixon with an average of one vote per precinct nationwide. People must now take the voting privilege more seriously, declared CNN and The Boston Globe.

But when considered closely, the media's argument still fails to persuade. The salient feature for Kennedy in 1960 was more likely dead voters in Chicago than intrepid youths casting their ballots. Florida is also swampy ground on which to place a soapbox. One vote in this election made no more difference than in 1960 because not all ballots were counted. This is not partisan rhetoric. Americans learned that in national elections large numbers of ballots are discarded or incorrectly tallied. Indeed, college students' frequent voting method, absentee ballots, are not opened in many towns unless the number of them is greater than the margin of victory. In California, for example, one million absentee ballots remained uncounted long after Nov. 7.

Young people's casual attitudes towards voting are a reasoned response--not the outgrowth of an irresponsible, apathetic bunch of channel surfers. But I do not argue that youth should not vote. Rather, I note that our old wives' tales are narrow in scope. Instead of inefficiently pushing young people to vote by telling us that we will change the outcome of an election (an obvious stretch), we should be told that by voting youth can change the political climate in which elections are conducted.

This is not seem to be an exciting message. It is not short and eye catching, and therefore attractive to the media. Yet this alternative view of voting recognizes the larger context of our campaigns and elections. Politicians function, not with the zero-sum calculus that determines their victory or loss, but rather on the balance of their own popularity. Politicians interpret their margin of victory as the length of the leash granted to their governance. (A fact that should make the next four years very amusing, if nothing else.) By voting, young people get an inch--no matter how small--of the leash granted to our politicians. More plainly, by voting, young people help to set the bounds on what is politically acceptable. We can contribute to the mandate.

This more plain message does not offer the luster of Gov. Ventura's appeal or the power implied by images of turning an electoral tide. But what is lacking in message is replaced with sincerity. And only sincerity, power based in substance rather than image, will truly draw youth into politics.

Erin B. Ashwell '02 is a government concentrator in Eliot House. Her column appears on alternate Mondays.