Every society is wider than politics, including ours. But throughout our society, courage is becoming all too rare -- and the deficit is of our own making. Today, more than ever, we need people with the courage to tell the plain truth. We need brave men and women who refuse to trumpet platitudes, or take stale ideas off the rack. We need more people who scrutinize every public utterance crafted by the rented fingers of ghostwriters, and point out the evasions. We need leaders and citizens who say no to what George Orwell once called the "smelly little orthodoxies."
Telling the truth, of course, can carry heavy penalties: condemnation, ostracism, slander, the end of careers. Telling the truth often requires as much courage as that of the foot soldier, the police officer, the firefighter. The arena is different; there are no rocket-propelled grenades, no roaring fires or desperadoes with guns. But truly brave people share one big thing: In doing their duty, they can lose everything. Without such people, we can lose everything, too. No democracy can survive if it is wormy with lies and evasions.
That is why we must cherish those people who have the guts to speak the truth: mavericks, whistle-blowers, disturbers of the public peace. And it's why, in spite of my own continuing (though chastened) liberal faith, I miss Barry Goldwater. More than ever.
Pete Hamill is the author of 18 books, including the New York Times best-sellers A Drinking Life, Snow in August, and Forever. His new book, Downtown, will be published in December by Little, Brown.