For all the recent changes in demography, California remains America’s most populous state, by far. It is home to some 39 million people. (Next is Texas, with nearly 30 million.) But for all its great size, like the other 49 states it is allotted just two senators to represent it in Congress. Therefore, if only because of the position they hold, each of the state’s two senators is, or ought to be, a leader, someone who, literally, leads. Alex Padilla is one, having served in that role for two years. Dianne Feinstein is the other, having served in that role for over thirty years.
Feinstein is the longest-serving woman senator in American history. She also has a strong record as a legislator, as well as having been a role model for many of the women who followed her and learned from her how to navigate the Senate.
Now, alas, Feinstein has become a different sort of exemplar. An exemplar of a leader who couldn’t quit. Couldn’t quit while there was still time to do so with dignity. Couldn’t quit while there was still time to hand the reins of power to a successor with intelligence and grace. By virtually every account for Feinstein it’s now too late. She is now so frail and befuddled that she is incapable of making a good decision either for herself or her constituents. So, one of these days, in one way or another, the decision to leave the Senate will be made not by her but for her.
Still, at a time when people are living so much longer than they used to, the question of leaders who linger till they dodder is certain to become more pressing. It is not ageist to insist it’s an issue – it’s just common sense. Need I repeat that America’s next presidential race likely will be between an 80-year-old and a 76-year-old? Need I point out that the 92-year-old Rupert Murdoch just concluded what the Financial Times called an especially “calamitous year”? Need I remind that the Supreme Leader of a visibly ailing Iran, Ali Khamenei, is 84 years old and has held his vaulted position for almost 34 years?
Old leaders don’t necessarily die, and they don’t necessarily fade away. Sometimes they just go on, and on, and on. The same applies to leaders who are not old but who for some reason are ailing or failing. Sometimes leaders of all ages hang in and hang on when the right thing to do would be for them to get out, to let someone replace them who is fit to do the job.
Situations such as these can of course be both delicate and difficult to resolve. During his 2022 senatorial campaign, Pennsylvania’s John Fetterman was felled by a severe stroke, one that clearly limited him physically and, it appeared, cognitively. While he won nevertheless, soon after he took office the newly minted senator was hospitalized for six weeks for clinical depression. It’s possible, of course, that Fetterman will serve the remainder of his term in fine health. It’s also possible that questions about his well-being will remain.
Clearly the issues I raise are sensitive. Moreover, the decisions they require are impossible to prescribe with precision. Still, it does none of us a favor to pretend that the matter of leaders’ health is other than of the utmost importance. And it does none of us a favor to pretend that leaders who dodder should indefinitely be left to chart their own course. Especially when it’s obvious they can no longer serve the followers to whom they promised, or even swore their allegiance.