I have a dream

(I actually began this posting on 2/29 and am only now finding time to get back to it. I hope it's not too dated.)

Last night was another of those nights. You know the kind: you sleep solidly, but your subconscious comes up with such such a full itinerary that by the time the alarm clock goes off, you're ready for a nice nap. On last night's agenda: primary elections.

I dreamed I'd gone down to my precinct's polling place to cast my primary ballot. After standing in line for half an hour or so, it was my turn to vote. A young, earnest-looking Julia Stiles type handed me a booklet the size of a large road atlas.

“What's this?” I asked.

“That's your ballot,” she said with a look that pitied me for being so old and out of it.

Not wanting to appear any less on top of things than I already had, I took my ballot, my No. 2 pencil, and my place at one of the dozen or so long, cafeteria-style tables. I opened my booklet and scanned the first page, which contained a series of statements. Next to each statement were two small ovals, labeled with “Yes” and “No”.

“You like to be engaged in an active and fast-paced job. Yes/No.”

“You usually plan your actions in advance. Yes/No.”

“You are strongly touched by the stories about people's troubles. Yes/No.”

“You prefer to spend your leisure time alone or relaxing in a tranquil family atmosphere. Yes/No.”

Weird, I thought as I began flipping pages and penciling in the ovals.

After a couple dozen pages of this, I reached the back page, expecting to finally have the opportunity to vote for my favored candidate. But instead of a list of candidates, there was only the phrase

THANK YOU FOR VOTING!

centered, bold, in all-caps 48pt Helvetica (or Arial; I'm not sure).

I picked up my booklet, spotted the young woman I'd spoken with earlier, and walked over to hand her my booklet. “I don't understand,” I said. “I couldn't find any place on the ballot where I could mark my choices of candidates.”

She smiled patiently and explained that it had been determined that most of the voting public really weren't capable of making an informed decision. They were easily swayed by campaign rhetoric. They voted one party line or another out of habit or because that's how their parents had always voted. They chose the candidate who looked the most like they did. As a result of this, the election process had gone to a system similar to a Briggs-Myers personality survey so that the voter could be paired more accurately with the candidate whose values and ideology most closely matched his or her own.

I woke up thinking it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever dreamt up, but as I took my shower, I got to thinking. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe some sort of test was the way to go – but only if the candidates were required to take the same test so that they couldn't fake their own beliefs and motivations.