David Harsanyi

"We are not labels -- we are people."

So begins the absurd, anti-democratic "declaration" of the soon-to-fail "No Labels" organization. This movement of rejected liberal Republicans and triangulating Democrats (oops, there I go again with the labels) is, unlike groups of partisans and ideologues with bad manners, really interested in solving America's problems.

"Not left, not right, forward" is its motto.

The answer, my friends, is always in the muddled but inspirational middle. And partisanship "is paralyzing our ability to govern" -- because, as you well know, Washington didn't spend trillions and reform a significant sector of the economy in just these past two years.

Was that not sufficiently polite? I hope it was, because if I've learned anything from the civility police at No Labels, it's that there's nothing as vital to the health of democracy as good manners. In conscientious tones, No Labels speaks for the average American. Yes, you only think you're upset with your elected officials for being scoundrels with pliable morals. Actually, you're just pining for more centrism.

So this week, No Labels unveiled its mission in the epicenter of American principles: an Ivy League university on the Upper West Side of New York. The Columbia University shindig featured No Labels Ubermensch New York Mayor Mike Bloomberg, a man whose disdain for politics-as-usual and ugly hyper-partisanship is so acute that he skipped the entire process and bought himself three terms.

And really, does anyone feel like a "label" rather than a person?

This very morning, I woke up in a neighborhood inhabited by hopelessly misguided people who disagree with my sound political philosophy. Yet I bought a cup of coffee from the local barista, and she never once asked me what I thought about health care reform. The soy milk I used -- hey, I'm trying to fit in -- came from a farmer who, like most of you, could not care less what I think, either.

So unless human nature drastically changes, No Labels is unneeded and inconsequential. Yet it's doing no one any favors by feeding the myth that we're a country teetering on the edge of catastrophe.

Haven't we been saddled with politics ever since Cain filibustered Abel? Pharisees and Sadducees? Patriots and Tories? Bolsheviks and the dead? In a historical context, aren't these mildly contentious, nonviolent debates we're having about as stable as politics can get in a democracy? We've had two landslides, for two sides, in two cycles, lest anyone believe Americans are ideologically rigid.