People sometimes ask me what’s changed in my politics. They’ve noticed I’ve gained some new supporters and lost a few old ones. And the truth is, I’ve sensed a change in myself too.
But as I’ve reflected on my years in public life, I’ve realized the core of who I am hasn’t shifted at all. If anything, it has sharpened.
From my first term in the Wyoming House, I was known, sometimes affectionately and sometimes not, as someone willing to stand up and call out abuses of power.
The Wyoming Tribune Eagle once labeled me a “haranguer” because I regularly challenged those in leadership when I believed they were using authority for personal or political advantage.
That instinct wasn’t contrarianism for its own sake. It was a conviction that power is always vulnerable to corruption, and that someone has to speak up when it happens.
That conviction has stayed with me. It’s why I’ve called out abuses on the left and the right. Some have interpreted my criticism of people within my own political party as disloyalty, but to me it’s simply consistency. If abuse of power is wrong, it’s wrong no matter who does it.
COVID intensified that conviction. During the pandemic, fear drove many people to reach for more control than they were ever meant to have.
Suddenly, “the people” via their politicians were telling everyone else where they could go, who they could see, whether they could attend church, and what medical decisions they had to make to keep their jobs.
We saw a sweeping movement of people who felt they were entitled to exercise power and control over others, all because they were scared.
That period forced me to think deeply about spheres of authority. Parents have authority over their own children, not the neighbor’s. Homeowners have authority over their own property, not the yard next door.
Citizens have authority over the governments they elect, not over private businesses they don’t own.
When someone crosses those boundaries, we call them a meddler or a busybody. COVID revealed how quickly society can slide into that kind of meddling on a massive scale.
It also reminded me of something foundational: in America, authority flows upward from the people, not downward from a centralized government.
The federal government has limited, enumerated powers. States have broader authority, but even that authority is bounded by their constitutions.
And individuals, ordinary citizens, are entrusted with the most expansive freedoms from God.
When government quarantined healthy people, dictated personal behavior, and attempted to censor dissent, it crossed lines it was never meant to cross, usurping the authority of the people.
Unfortunately, I’ve seen similar patterns closer to home.
In recent years, parts of the Wyoming Republican Party have moved toward centralizing power away from counties in ways that echo the same tendencies I’ve spent my career resisting.
At our recent state convention,
I certainly have my thoughts about those bylaw changes, but unfortunately I did not get to share my thoughts on the convention floor, and neither did anyone else for that matter, and that is the problem.
Why? Think of the golden rule: treat others how you want to be treated.
Do you like being silenced or censored? Do you like it when people try to enforce their standards or their way of thinking upon you, not considering or even wanting to hear what you think about a matter?
No one likes to be treated that way, and yet some have used power and control to treat others in a way that they themselves would find appalling if it happened to them.
Too many people across the political spectrum treat political power as the ultimate prize; something to be seized and defended at all costs.
That’s part of why I’ve been critical of certain factions, not because I disagree with every policy they support, but because of the lengths some are willing to go to gain or keep control.
For some, politics has become their new religion. It’s idolatry; idolatry of power.
For me, politics is not my religion.
While I express loyalty to one political party, I serve one master: King Jesus.
My Christ-centered faith has pushed me toward a more golden-rule centered posture.
Beyond uphold a baseline of God’s moral law, I don’t feel the need to control how others think or act.
I value open debate, free speech, and the belief that truth, if given the opportunity to be spoken out loud, will ultimately win the day.
What I oppose, and what I’ve always opposed, is the impulse to silence dissent, enforce conformity, or consolidate power in the hands of a few.
So what’s changed?
I’ve become more aware, more vocal, and perhaps more willing to call out those busybody tendencies wherever I see them.
But the core hasn’t changed at all. I’ve always believed that public service should be about serving the public, not about gaining power, keeping power, or using power to meddle in the lives of others like we’ve seen post-COVID.
And that’s a conviction I don’t intend to abandon.
Scott Clem can be reached at: ScottClem@live.com
