John Burton and Charlie Kirk Taught Lessons We Should All Heed

Between a busy travel week last week, and events having my mind on other things, I have not been able to turn back to our blog series on the HexaCom Advantage applied in the campaign we ran against a vacancy tax last year. I will get to that soon, but there’s been some thoughts circulating in my head and that itch has to be scratched before I can turn back to the blog series.

Two seemingly disparate events – the death of Democratic former State Senator President Pro Tem John Burton (effectively due to old age) in California and the assassination of Turning Point USA President Charlie Kirk – have me thinking a lot about the state of our civic dialog.

These two leaders couldn’t be further apart in so many ways. Ideologically, my California friends know this, but for others, John Burton was often described as a “lion of the left” over his many decades of service in the state legislature, Congress, and Democratic Party Chairman; Kirk, as many people know, was an outspoken conservative and one of the most influential leaders in the Republican Party in recent years.

I imagine Charlie Kirk and John Burton are having a great, joyful debate after crossing the pearly gates.

John Burton passed away at age 92 on Sunday, September 7, after a fall a few weeks ago led to his final decline. He lived a long and full life. Charlie Kirk was murdered on Wednesday, September 10, after being shot while speaking at Utah Valley University on his “Prove Me Wrong” tour. Kirk was 31, already quite influential, but so young and at the start of what should have been a lifetime of activism for his causes.

Burton – liberal lion passing after 92 years. Kirk – firebrand conservative taken too soon at 31. Other than dying three days apart, how are these related?

When Senator Burton died, you wouldn’t have been surprised by the glowing testimonials given by his hundreds of Democratic friends and colleagues. But what I hope you did not miss was the dozens of Republicans, who served with John in various capacities, who spoke their praise of John. While of course acknowledging their policy differences, to nearly a person, I read post after post of Republican officeholders praising John for his compassion, his good nature (even if masked by “f-bomb” laden tirades), his tireless work, and his love of the public service he performed. They talked about how John always took time to greet them, to warmly acknowledge their families when they visited the State Capitol, and that even when they disagreed, they always knew they could have a productive and thoughtful conversation with him.

I worked with John often during the three years in the mid-1990s when my boss in the Legislature, Curt Pringle, was Assembly Republican Leader and Speaker and Senator Burton was a leader among Democrats, eventually becoming Senate President Pro Tem. Pringle and Burton agreed on a very few issues, and disagreed on many more, but both also knew if they were ever to get anything done with a Democratic-controlled Senate and a Republican-controlled Assembly (and a GOP Governor), they would have to set aside many differences and find common ground. Those ended up not being years of gridlock, but of great accomplishments. And those successes came in no small part because John Burton knew that there was a role for partisan battles, and a role for being a good human, to find compromise, and move issues forward.

And we always suspected that Pringle going toe-to-toe with Burton in a good-natured manner at a political gathering of San Francisco Democrats in 1998 played a role in Curt getting the San Francisco Chronicle's editorial endorsement for State Treasurer.

I’m a generation ahead of Charlie Kirk, and I didn’t know him. I would regularly see a conservative friend of mine post one of his videos on various social media, always him sitting on a stool, under a tent, answering questions, often from progressive college students. He used humor. He made provocative statements – not profanity-laced like Burton’s – but sometimes biting just the same. He used facts. He explained his beliefs and how he came to them. You didn’t have to agree with Charlie Kirk, but you always knew where he stood and why.

As with Burton, the death of Charlie Kirk has caused a great number of people commenting on their interactions with him. The vast, vast majority, whether from fellow conservatives, or journalists, or even Democratic politicians, recalled how Charlie was a “happy warrior” – just like Burton. They noted that Kirk believed in the power of his ideas and that the best way to convince people of these ideas was to – remarkably – just go and talk to them. And inevitably – like the comments from Republicans about Burton – commenters noted that Kirk was gracious to speak with even when firmly making his point.

The passing in the same week of these two thought-provoking warriors of the left and the right surely must mean something. One was at the end of a long life, and among the great liberal leaders of his era. The other was coming into the prime of his power, and while already extraordinarily influential, had a full life ahead until cut down.

But both knew instructively that politics and public debate should bring out our better angels, not our darkest demons. In an era where politics has become so divisive, so destructive, where elections are about turning out your base rather than persuading the other side to see your point of view, Burton and Kirk showed us a better way.

Make your point. Make it well and aggressively, but with joy in your heart. Enjoy that we live in a society in which we have the freedom to debate these ideas in the realm of public opinion. Don’t hate someone because they disagree with you. Leave room to persuade rather than just crush those with different philosophies.

I have no doubt that John and Charlie are hanging out together in heaven, debating all the great issues of the day, point and counterpoint, and enjoying each other’s company tremendously. And they’re hoping – and praying – that we’ll follow their better angels.