As whispers about the 2016 presidential nominees build to a crescendo, it’s only a matter of time before we’ve solidified our candidates for the next election. During the final stages of a presidency whose promise of hope continues to dwindle, Americans have already started to look to potential nominees to rejuvenate their trust in the power of the POTUS. But with a number of recognizable names swirling around the political stratosphere, 2016 already portends to be an uncomfortable dose of déjà vu. With Hillary Clinton and yet another Bush being cited as top contenders alongside familiar names such as Christie, Biden, Perry, and Santorum, the 2016 election appears to be a second go-round for past hopefuls, lacking in fresh faces or opinions.

What I fear most for 2016, however, isn’t the recycling of candidates. It’s the recycling of cheap party politics. As exciting as an upcoming presidential election can be, there is nothing more irksome than when concrete issues are overshadowed by the same banal banter, the same left-right divide that turns candidates into caricatures.

This is, quite often, the byproduct of partisanship. Securing right-wing voters means pitting oneself against the left, and vice versa. Senator Ted Cruz has already theorized that the 2016 presidential seat will go to a Democrat if the GOP selects a moderate candidate, and he might be right on the mark.

The need for a far-right candidate to offset the GOP’s strong liberal opponents represents a fundamental flaw in our governmental system: Candidates must often represent the extremes of their party in order to secure voter turnout in their favor. More troublesome still is the fact that this polarization shifts the focus away from the candidate, so that party identification becomes more important than individual policy. Candidates become Democrats or Republicans first, and presidential nominees second.

As a general voter, and especially as someone with a complicated political identity, it’s enough to make me disenchanted by our nation’s entire political system. That is, until I remember why candidates are stretching themselves thin trying to appeal to their target demographics. At the end of the day, basic supply and demand tells us that our position as voters is the most favorable, the most powerful, because we have what every politician wants: a vote. Instead of pointing the finger at what the political climate seems to be saying about our government, then, perhaps it’s time to consider what the political climate says about our priorities as voters.

Unfortunately, our priorities aren’t where they should be, especially when it comes to young voters. With a meager 41.2 percent youth voter turnout in the last presidential election, it’s clear that Americans aged 18-29 are dissuaded by the bureaucracy of modern politics. In a statement to USA TODAY, John Della Volpe, the polling director for the IOP, explains why: “Unfortunately what we've seen over the last several years is our young people have believed that politics doesn't have the tangible results that they wish that it did. So therefore they are less likely to be participating.”

As one of the young people to whom Della Volpe refers, I empathize with the frustration over the attacks flying from either side and the Washington egos that prevent real change from happening. When the 2016 election comes around, it will be even easier to feel jaded by what we read online or see on television.

In those times, however, we must remain hopeful that while presidential candidates may not be able to transcend the shackles of partisanship, perhaps we as voters can. Of course, doing so requires that we take our votes seriously. It requires that we demand the kind of candidate we can be proud of even in the absence of that candidate among the current slate. Most importantly, it requires that we show up to vote. After all, just because the 2016 presidential election may be a repeat performance doesn’t mean our participation at the polls should be too.

 

Aria N. Bendix ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an English concentrator in Quincy House.