I’m not a shallow person. At least, I don’t think I am.
I do my best to receive people’s opinions and perspectives objectively before forming my own opinion of them.
But I found myself in the voting booth this past November casting a vote based on very shallow criteria.
The candidate, who shall go unnamed, checked a few critical boxes for me. He was a Republican who believed big government was harming small towns. He opposed offshore wind projects. I guess that’s it, actually. Living in Southeastern Massachusetts, we don’t have too many shining right-wing stars. Most conservatives around here seeking public office are all too eager to compromise their platforms in the interest of bipartisanship. Weak.
Aside from the lackluster candidacy, there was one more glaring problem that I couldn’t find my way around. The candidate was too fat.
I know that sounds harsh. However, this man was so obese that I could not, in good conscience, give him my vote.
I’ve shared this moral quandary with several people, including co-workers. While I’ve received some criticism, I still believe I’m justified in my decision.
And keep in mind that I’m well aware I’m not a perfect human specimen, myself. I’ve struggled with my weight my entire adult life. Then again, I’m not running for public office.
Health, both physical and mental, has been a major discussion of recent campaigns. During the 2020 and 2024 presidential elections, Joe Biden’s mental acuity was rightly called into question. Going back to the 2016 campaign, the physical health of Donald Trump and Chris Christie was also up for debate. Christie famously pulled a donut from his suit jacket pocket when David Letterman broached the subject of the New Jersey governor’s girth on The Late Show.
A candidate’s literal ability to perform the job the electorate sent him to office to do should be of legitimate concern to that electorate.
I don’t think it’s out of line to consider one’s physical health, specifically their weight, when narrowing down the choices in a field of candidates.
Two factors played into my decision to not vote for this candidate. The first was the increased possibility of an ineffective representative. If this man should find himself in the midst of a medical emergency resulting in an extended hospital stay and a long road to recovery, how could he govern? Would he be able to effectively represent his constituents? How many critical votes would he miss on the State House floor? In a Democrat-heavy legislature, a Republican holding the liberals accountable for their votes is a scarce and valuable commodity. If the Republican is absent, the Republican is useless.
What if the potential medical emergency proved fatal? How many tax dollars would be used to cobble together a special election? Not very fiscally sound of a fiscal conservative to leave taxpayers in the lurch like that.
Secondly, how am I to trust the candidate’s ability to control state budgets and spending when they have shown a clear lack of self-control in such a critical aspect of their own life? That may sound shallow, and it may very well be, but it is logical. Would you trust a shabbily dressed man to tailor your tuxedo? Would you allow someone with a horrendous driving record to operate a livery service? Should a convicted kleptomaniac be given a security job in a department store?
If I can’t trust you to take care of yourself, why should I trust you to take my interests seriously?
I seriously weighed my decision before voting against this candidate and in favor of another. And I don’t regret it. We’re told to never judge a book by it’s cover. But just like I tend not to fraternize with people who have dyed their hair unnaturally vibrant colors, I also opt to have the healthiest choice of representation in government.
And before you write back to me saying “How could you vote against a Republican?! You’re nothing but a RINO,” I’ll tell you the candidate I opted for was young, fit, conservative, unenrolled, and ambitious. He got my vote because he complimented my MAGA hat at a local festival, and then recognized me from HCRN. The weightier candidate didn’t bother to knock on my door until November 4th, one day before the election.
I’ve been called a lot of things. Racist. Sexist. Misogynist. Homophobic. Transphobic.
I guess it’s time to pin another medal on my chest.
Fatphobic.