Legislators are interested in their pet projects, getting

In the words of Bud Grant, the truth is laid bare: “Legislators are interested in their pet projects, getting re-elected, and popularity contests.” These words cut through the veils of political ceremony and reveal the frailty of human ambition. Like the ancient seers who warned kings against the intoxication of power, Grant speaks not only of those who hold office, but of the eternal temptation that besets all leaders—to serve themselves before serving the people. It is a reminder that though power may cloak itself in noble language, its heart is often drawn toward vanity, self-preservation, and fleeting applause.

Consider the phrase pet projects. It does not speak of the needs of the many, but of the cherished whims of the few. Legislators, entrusted with the well-being of entire nations, too often turn their gaze toward monuments of pride, ventures of personal glory, or schemes that will bear their name upon the lips of the people. Yet what good is a marble bridge if the people are hungry? What worth is a shining hall if the sick go without care? The ancients would say that such leaders build not with stone, but with sand, for their works do not endure.

Then comes the yearning for re-election, that endless hunger for continuance in power. Here lies a paradox, for the true leader should serve as one passing torchlight through the darkness, not clutching it forever in his own hands. History tells us of the Roman consul Cincinnatus, who, having saved Rome from peril, laid down his authority and returned to his farm, preferring the plow to the crown. His greatness was not in holding power but in letting it go. Compare this to rulers who claw for every vote, every favor, every deceitful bargain to remain in office, and the contrast is sharp as steel.

The third truth is popularity contests, a phrase that strikes like a jest but is laden with sorrow. For too many seek not justice but applause. They fashion their words like actors upon a stage, caring more for the thunder of clapping hands than for the cries of the poor. Such leaders are like reeds swaying in the wind, bending with each gust of opinion, never rooted in principle. The ancients taught that a leader must be like the oak, steadfast and immovable, drawing strength from deep roots in truth, not from the fickle breezes of the crowd.

A tale from history illuminates this. In the final days of the Athenian democracy, when demagogues rose to power, they promised the people wealth without labor and glory without sacrifice. They sought to please rather than to guide. The result was ruin: Athens, once the jewel of the world, was brought to her knees by her own folly, her leaders more concerned with votes than with virtue. This, too, is the warning carried in Grant’s words. For when leaders play at popularity instead of governance, nations weaken, and the seeds of decline are sown.

Yet let us not despair. For the wisdom of these words also carries within it a call to action—not only for leaders but for the people who raise them up. The lesson is clear: demand substance over spectacle, virtue over vanity, service over self-interest. If we, the people, cease to be dazzled by empty promises and shining performances, then the leaders will be forced to rise to the higher calling of true stewardship.

To the future generations, hear this: seek leaders who are not seduced by their own projects, nor bound by the chains of re-election, nor addicted to the theater of popularity. And in your own life, guard against these temptations. Do not pursue your endeavors merely for the praise of others, but for the enduring good you leave behind. Do not cling to power or position, but pass it with honor when the time comes. Stand firm in principle, even if it wins you no applause, for the applause of truth is eternal, while the clapping of the crowd fades like dust in the wind.

Thus the teaching resounds: power is a sacred trust, not a prize. Popularity is a shadow, not a substance. True greatness lies not in being remembered, but in having served faithfully. And those who live by this wisdom shall build foundations not of sand, but of stone, strong enough to bear the weight of generations yet unborn.