There are days when politics makes me sick. Lots of them. The practiced outrage, the convenient convictions, the promises that somehow expire the moment the election is over. After a while, the disappointment settles into something heavier. You begin to wonder how much longer decent people can be expected to participate in a system that seems so determined to wear them down.
I’m especially tired of the establishment of my own party. Too often, Republican leadership appears more attentive to donors and corporate interests than to the people whose votes put it in office. It campaigns on courage and governs with an endless explanation of why courage will have to wait.
We’re told we need another election, another majority, another chance. Meanwhile, the government we were promised would shrink remains enormous, and the people who were supposed to challenge Washington grow increasingly comfortable there. Somewhere along the way, preserving their place in the system becomes more important than changing it.
Conservatives have every right to be angry about that. We don’t owe politicians our affection, and we certainly don’t owe them our silence.

A Republican label doesn’t make an excuse more convincing or a broken promise less consequential.
And yet, here we are. Another election is coming, and we have a choice to make.
In Mississippi, Cindy Hyde-Smith faces Democrat Scott Colom. In Texas, Ken Paxton faces James Talarico. The candidates and circumstances differ, but voters in both states must consider what their decisions will mean beyond election night. A Senate seat carries power over legislation, nominations, and the direction of the country.
My frustration with the Republican establishment hasn’t made the Democratic alternative more acceptable. I remain convinced that the left’s preference for expanding federal power takes us farther from the constitutional government we need. I oppose socialism because I believe people should have greater control over their earnings, their property, and their futures. Moving more of those decisions to Washington won’t cure a political system already too insulated from the people.
Nor will I compromise on religious liberty or the duty to confront violent extremism. Radical Islam, understood as a political ideology that would impose its authority through coercion, is incompatible with a free society. Every party should be willing to say so plainly while protecting the freedom of peaceful Americans of every faith.
Those convictions don’t disappear because many Republican politicians disappoint me. If anything, their failures make the responsibility of choosing carefully more painful.
I understand the temptation to walk away. There’s a certain satisfaction in refusing to reward people who’ve taken your support for granted. But an election’s consequences reach beyond the politicians we want to punish. Our children will live with those consequences, too, and they deserve more consideration than the temporary relief of expressing our anger.
People call this choosing the lesser of two evils. I understand the expression, although I’m judging political choices, not claiming to know the souls of the people running. What matters is that imperfect alternatives can carry profoundly different risks and outcomes.
And to those who say a third party deserves our vote, I understand the frustration that brings you there. But a party has to do the work of becoming a viable alternative. It needs organization, credible candidates, sustained public support, and a realistic path to winning. That work takes years of effort between elections. It can’t be replaced by an appeal to conscience a few weeks before the votes are counted.
Until that foundation exists, we have to reckon honestly with what a protest vote may accomplish. In a close race, drawing votes away from the candidate closest to our principles can help elect the candidate farthest from them. We may intend to register our rebellion against the establishment and end up strengthening the very opposition we believe would do greater harm. Anyone asking for our votes ought to explain how those votes can produce a victory. The consequences of losing will remain long after the satisfaction of making a statement has passed.
For that reason, I believe we should hold the line and vote Republican in these Senate races. I reach that conclusion with my eyes open and with no intention of withdrawing my criticism of the party.
But holding the line must accomplish something. If every election merely buys the establishment another season of complacency, conservatives will eventually have nothing left to defend except a party’s possession of office. That’s an awfully small ambition for people who claim to believe in liberty.
The work of reform must continue immediately. Recruit better candidates. Challenge incumbents when they abandon their commitments. Follow their votes after the campaign signs come down. Demand that they explain whose interests their decisions serve. Build a party in which keeping a promise matters more than maintaining access to the people writing the checks.
We can make a necessary electoral choice and still insist on a better Republican Party. Indeed, we have to do both.
I’m tired of the games. I’m tired of watching conviction become negotiable once power is secured. But I still love this country more than I resent the politicians who’ve disappointed it.
So I’ll hold the line a while longer. And I’ll keep demanding something worthy of the people being asked to hold it.