I have to admit, I am feeling a little neglected. Ever since Election Day my e-mail has dropped off by about 80 percent. Before, I was hearing from famous people, people who wanted to be president or vice president, U.S. senator, or congressmember or had a friend they wanted me to know about who wanted one of those jobs. All who wrote seemed to remember me fondly, though frankly I can’t recall ever having met all but one or two of them.

One even said that because of the regard in which I was held in Saratoga Springs, a special place on their campaign committee was being held for me. Saratoga Springs is a lovely city. I’ve visited during the racing season. But I must confess: I never lived there. The message was probably meant for the Gerald Benjamin who is a dentist there. I found him on the internet. Truth be told, though, I did not forward the e-mails. He probably already had his hands full reading mail intended for me. Or worse, he does not know that his dental practice is falling off because he is not answering his mail.

Generally there were three messages in these e-mails, all about helping others win elections.

The first, usually in large print, was a heartfelt plea: PLEASE DO NOT DELEATE BEFORE READING. Well, sometimes I did, and sometimes I didn’t. Actually, truth be told, most times I did. (Delete, that is).
The second was a request to volunteer in a candidate’s campaign, mostly by distributing materials door-to-door, or contacting potentially supportive voters by phone. I did this briefly twice, with little enthusiasm.
And third, there was the inevitable request for money. The amounts solicited varied from a low of $3 to a high of “whatever you can afford.” Some suggested that I give one sum that would be shared by Senate candidates in two different states. When higher amounts were specified, they were clearly based upon records of what I had already given this year or in earlier years. They were telling me that they knew where I lived: “This is our eighth message; you haven’t given yet; pay attention.” In contrast, very small contributions were less about the money than about tying me to the candidate: The idea seemed to be “Get his money and his vote will follow.”

One estimate I found is that when all is said and done, a total of $15.9 billion will have been spent in 2024 by candidates for national political office and their supporters. I looked it up. Only a small fraction of that total was raised by sending all those e-mails to me and other retired teachers. The big money comes from those people and institutions that have a lot of it and stand to get a lot more with the help of friends in high places. As my dad Ruby Benjamin used to say: “Nothing’s for nothing.”

He knew. He had the experience. My dad worked as a professional athlete. Later he was a New York City detective investigating political corruption cases. Ruby’s last job was liquor store owner. He told me that he liked it because “I own the business. I’m the boss. Nobody tells me what to do.” It’s not easy.” He added: “Ownership brings headaches. Some days nothing sells. You’ve still got to cover the overhead, pay for the heat and the light.”

You will not find the word “democracy” in the U.S. Constitution. No need. It’s majestic first sentence enshrines “We the People” as sovereign. Yet somehow in this election year democracy — not only whether we have it, but also whether we should have it — became an issue. Like many of us, I’ve been worrying a lot this election year — and am worried still — about the condition of our democracy, and our commitment to sustaining it. Simply put, step by step, decision by decision, intentional or not, we appear to be willing to give up ownership. Recent events tell us that if we do not start paying serious attention, we Americans will soon find ourselves out of the democracy business.

We can volunteer time and effort and send more money in response to all those emails. But what we really need is a way for all of us of us to chip in and pick up the tab for the heat and the lights, work together to renew — not abandon — our democracy and make it work for us all.

I’m sure that if he were here, that’s what Ruby would say. Pay attention.

The author is a former professor and dean at SUNY New Paltz and chaired the county's Charter Revision Commission, among many other accomplishments. To read more about him, click here.