A few recent examples illustrate the point.
When we published our review of Mayor Andrea Horwath's first four years in office, we expected mixed reactions. The Mayor has both supporters and detractors, and healthy debate is part of any democracy. What troubled me, however, was not the disagreement—it was the volume of deeply personal and, at times, cruel attacks directed at her.
To be clear, I am not on anyone's side in this mayoral race. Had those same comments been directed at any other candidate or public figure, I would have felt exactly the same way.
Another example arose when we shared mayoral candidate Ejaz Butt's interview in our Before the Ballot – Questions for Hamilton's Next Mayor series. While many readers engaged thoughtfully with his responses, some comments were unmistakably rooted in racism. There is simply no place for that in our city—or in our humanity.
The final example undermines what could otherwise be meaningful discussion. We often receive insightful, thoughtful, and well-reasoned comments. Then, in the final sentence, the writer adds something like, "I'd never vote for that fool," or another unnecessary personal insult. In that moment, the value of the entire comment is diminished and never appears in The Hamiltonian.
Political campaigns are, by their nature, passionate. People care deeply about the future of their community, and they should. But there is a profound difference between challenging someone's ideas and attacking their dignity.
We can disagree vigorously without demeaning one another. We can criticize policies without ridiculing people. We can expose flaws in an argument without resorting to racism, insults, or personal attacks. If we want better politics, we must also model better citizenship.
Cal
