On November 3rd, voters across Clallam County will elect a county commissioner, and that’s an important choice. But it’s not really the decision I want to talk about.
Eventually, the votes will be counted. One person will win. One will lose. What happens after that is what I find myself thinking about.
It’s been a bruising campaign. There has been anger, distrust, and at times, real contempt. I’m not going to pretend that everyone has contributed equally to that. I don’t think that’s true. But I’m also not interested in assigning percentages of blame. That’s not going to get us very far.
Because the morning after the election, we’re still here together. Same neighborhoods, same grocery lines, same county problems that don’t care about our comment sections.
And the person who wins won’t have the luxury of representing only the people who voted for him.
So that’s where I think the more interesting decision begins.
November 3rd will decide who our next commissioner is. But what happens on November 4th will tell us what kind of commissioner he intends to be, and what kind of community the rest of us intend to be, too.
Winning Is Just the Beginning
For either Mike French or Jake Seegers, winning will be an achievement worth celebrating. Running for office is hard. It takes a lot out of a person.
But winning is also when the job changes.
Suddenly, the people who fought you are your constituents, too. Including some people who didn’t fight fair.
That’s where the leadership part gets harder.
It’s easy to listen to folks who voted for you, right? The real test is whether you’ll listen to people who spent months telling everyone why you shouldn’t have the job.
“If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.”
— Nelson Mandela
So, here’s a challenge for both Mike and Jake.
If you win, who’s the first person who opposed you that you’re going to call?
Not for an endorsement or a photo, or to prove they were wrong. Just to ask what you should know, and then listen.
You don’t have to agree. But representing someone means leaving the door open, even when it’s tempting to bolt it shut.
The Courage to Disappoint Your Own Supporters
But reaching out to critics is only half of it. The other half is even tougher.
Are you willing, when necessary, to disappoint the people who elected you?
I don’t mean ignoring them. Elections have consequences, and I don’t expect either man to govern exactly like the other one would have.
But governing isn’t campaigning.
Sometimes you learn something new. You hear from people you hadn’t talked to before. You see a consequence you didn’t see before.
And in those moments, do you have the courage to stand in front of your own base and say, “I hear you, but I think this is better for the whole county”?
That’s a different kind of political courage, and it’s rare.
It’s easy to stand up to the other side. It’s a lot harder to stand up in a room full of your own supporters and tell them no.
I hope whoever wins is willing to do that, because the goal isn’t to keep your side happy for four years. It’s to serve this county well for four years.
Sometimes those things line up perfectly, and sometimes they don’t.
Listening Isn’t Surrender
None of this means that the winner should spend four years trying to make everyone happy. That’s impossible, and honestly, not even good leadership.
Sometimes compromise is possible, and sometimes it isn’t. Listening isn’t the same thing as agreeing, and respecting a perspective doesn’t mean surrendering to it.
But we seem to have confused stubbornness with conviction.
“He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that.”
— John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (1859)
There’s strength in holding a line when it’s unpopular. There’s also strength in being willing to say, “I looked at this differently before, but I’ve learned.”
I don’t expect everyone in Clallam County to agree. I don’t even think that would be healthy.
What I do expect from whoever wins is something simpler.
That disagreement doesn’t become disqualification. That people aren’t written off because of who they voted for.
You can hear someone out and still tell them no. You can disagree and still respect, and you can lead with conviction without closing the door.
There’s Leadership in Losing, Too
Of course, only one of these two men is going to win. The other will have a decision to make, too.
Losing an election hurts. After all of that work and all that hope, you wake up and realize it wasn’t enough.
But there’s a kind of leadership in losing, too.
The losing candidate’s supporters will be watching closely, looking for cues about whether to stay engaged, to treat the winner as legitimate, and to keep showing up without treating every meeting like a battlefield.
Losing without turning bitter is hard. Losing without teaching your supporters to be permanently aggrieved is harder still.
One of the most generous things the person who loses could do is pick up the phone and say, “Congratulations. How can I help where it makes sense?”
Now, that might sound naive, but it’s not about agreement. It’s about stewardship.
Saying, “I didn’t win, but I still live here, and I still care about what happens.”
There’s dignity in winning well, but there’s also tremendous dignity in losing well.
And whichever of these two men ends up on that side of the election, I hope he chooses that.
The Rest of Us Have a Decision to Make, Too
Now let’s turn that lens toward the rest of us, because it’s easy to ask all of this from Mike and Jake. It’s harder to ask it of ourselves.
When the votes are counted, about half the people who cared deeply about this race are going to be disappointed.
If that’s you, what are you going to do with that disappointment?
Will you give the person who won a chance to govern, to make choices, and to be evaluated on what he actually does rather than a perpetual replay of the campaign?
Can you criticize when you think it’s warranted, but also acknowledge when something goes right?
And if your candidate wins, can you win without gloating? Can you hold your own side accountable after spending months defending it?
“It is not fair to ask of others what you are unwilling to do yourself.”
— Eleanor Roosevelt
These are uncomfortable questions for all of us.
It’s easy to demand grace, humility, or open-mindedness from elected officials. It’s harder to practice those things ourselves.
Democracy doesn’t ask us to stop disagreeing after an election. It asks us to stay involved, to speak up, and to do it all with enough humility to leave room for the possibility that we don’t know everything.
Be committed. Be gracious. Be honest.
It isn’t flashy. It isn’t online content. But it’s the only way a county like ours actually works.
When the Election Is Over, We’re Still Neighbors
After this election is over, your neighbor is still your neighbor.
The person in line behind you at Safeway is still just trying to get through their week.
We don’t know what each other’s votes were, and we don’t know the worries that they carry. But we do know that we’re all still here together.
Civic life means we don’t get to just mute people. It asks us to live together anyway. To argue when we need to, but still show up for the same shared life we can’t opt out of.
Vote your convictions. Go ahead and care deeply.
But on November 4th, try something quieter, too.
Offer a little grace. Ask a real question. Listen for something human underneath the politics.
That’s not weakness.
That’s how a community holds together.
Active dialogue and engagement with our readers is crucial. Writers on this platform are encouraged—and expected—to revisit their articles regularly, responding thoughtfully to readers’ questions and concerns.
We want conversations, not shouting matches. Therefore, comments will be reviewed regularly and are expected to adhere to these foundational guidelines:
Stay on Topic: Comments must relate directly to the article.
Respectfulness: Every comment should demonstrate respect toward authors, website management, and fellow commenters. Bullying, name-calling, or disrespectful behaviors will not be tolerated.
Constructive Dialogue: Political grandstanding is unwelcome here. While some discussions naturally involve political elements, the goal is to enhance understanding, clarify perspectives, and contribute constructively.
No Personal Attacks: As Theodore Roosevelt wisely said, it’s the person who is “actually in the arena” who deserves our respect. Criticism is welcome, but personal attacks are not.
Transparency: Any new guidelines needed as this platform evolves will prioritize civility, decency, and productive dialogue.