THE HORSE TEST
Mr. Ed Reviews the Democratic Platform
Mr. Ed (Photo courtesy of Wilbur)
THE HORSE TEST
Mr. Ed Reviews the Democratic Platform
By Jim Reynolds | www.reynolds.com
Prologue: The Horse Laugh
Growing up, my brother Jerry and I maintained a simple but highly effective accountability system.
Whenever one of us embarrassed himself—by saying something foolish, losing badly at a game, or otherwise failing in plain sight of the real world—the penalty was swift and unmistakable.
The other brother delivered the Horse Laugh.
Not a polite chuckle. Not a sympathetic smile. A full-throated, barnyard bray of ridicule, performed loudly and without mercy.
It was a sibling court of last resort.
Over time the routine evolved. The Horse Laugh slowly transformed into impressions of Mr. Ed, the talking horse from the old television show who spent most of his time offering calm advice to his perpetually confused owner, Wilbur.
How a horse became the resident expert on human behavior was never explained. But week after week Ed would watch Wilbur stumble into some new absurdity, pause thoughtfully, and then deliver a perfectly timed correction from the stable.
The joke, of course, was that the horse was the only creature in the room making sense.
Jerry and I adopted Ed as the patron saint of obvious truths and painful ridicule. Whenever one of us said something spectacularly dumb, the other would lean back, pause thoughtfully—just like the horse—and deliver the line.
Oh, Wilbur…
Then came the laugh.
In that spirit, I would now like to introduce Mr. Ed to the modern Democratic Party platform.
Because if ever a political document deserved the Horse Test, this one surely does.
The Platform That Cannot Be Found
I recently tried to locate the current Democratic platform.
Not the campaign slogans.
Not the daily talking points.
The actual platform.
It exists somewhere—ninety pages of carefully constructed prose approved at a convention hall—but for practical purposes it might as well be stored in the Smithsonian next to the moon rocks and Fonzie’s leather jacket.
What voters actually encounter is something different.
A shifting cloud of emotional appeals, activist demands, bureaucratic improvisations, and redistribution schemes that change tone depending on the audience.
The more you try to nail it down, the more it moves.
Which brings us to the Horse Test.
Immigration: Secure Borders Without Borders
The official language is reassuring.
Democrats support a secure border. They believe in orderly immigration and a pathway to citizenship.
Then reality wanders in wearing muddy boots.
Millions cross the southern border while Washington debates terminology.
Sanctuary cities flourish.
Temporary parole programs multiply.
Enforcement becomes controversial.
The same politicians who say the border must be secure also explain why enforcement measures are unacceptable.
The platform promises order with compassion.
The practice frequently delivers compassion with disorder.
From the stable comes a quiet voice.
Oh, Wilbur…
“If the fence has more holes than the cheese, it’s not a fence.”
Crime: Defund the Police Until We Fund the Police
In 2020 the slogan was simple.
Defund the Police.
City councils nodded approvingly. Budgets shrank. Police morale collapsed.
Crime rose across major cities.
Then voters noticed.
Suddenly a remarkable transformation occurred.
The same political leaders who had tolerated or endorsed defunding began insisting they had always supported police funding.
The new slogan became Fund the Police.
Which created a minor chronological inconvenience.
Because everyone had just watched the opposite happen.
The platform says safe communities and responsible policing.
The politics looked more like a national experiment conducted on the public.
The barn door creaks.
Oh, Wilbur…
“If you fire the sheriff, don’t be surprised when the outlaws apply for the job.”
Energy Policy: Ban the Fuel We Still Need
The Democratic platform promises a careful transition to clean energy.
In practice the rhetoric often treats fossil fuels as a moral offense.
Oil companies become villains.
Pipelines are halted.
Gas stoves become suspicious appliances.
And yet when gasoline prices spike, the same leadership suddenly remembers that Americans still drive cars, heat homes, and move goods across a continental economy.
So the country receives two messages simultaneously.
Fossil fuels must disappear immediately.
Fossil fuels must keep the economy running.
This produces the strange spectacle of discouraging domestic production while quietly asking foreign producers to pump more oil.
A horse pokes his head out of the barn.
Oh, Wilbur…
“You can’t run a tractor on wishful thinking.”
Free Speech: Protected, Carefully
The Democratic tradition once celebrated civil liberties.
Today the conversation frequently revolves around misinformation, disinformation, harmful speech, and the need for responsible content moderation.
Government agencies discuss narrative management with technology companies.
Debate itself becomes suspect if the conclusions are considered dangerous.
The platform promises protection for democratic discourse.
The operational instinct often drifts toward supervision of democratic discourse.
Which is a polite way of saying some opinions are safer if they never circulate.
The horse blinks.
Oh, Wilbur…
“When you start policing opinions, you’ve already lost the argument.”
Identity Politics: Unity Through Division
Eventually every political platform reaches the soaring paragraph about unity.
We are all Americans.
We are stronger together.
We must rise above division.
Then the daily messaging begins.
Politics becomes a mosaic of identities—racial categories, gender identities, historical grievances, intersecting hierarchies of victimhood.
The language of universal citizenship quietly yields to the language of demographic segmentation.
Unity becomes something that will be achieved only after everyone has been carefully sorted.
The horse tilts his head.
Oh, Wilbur…
“If you divide people into enough groups, eventually you divide yourself out of power.”
Student Debt: Borrow Freely, Someone Else Will Pay
For decades Americans were told a simple story about higher education.
Go to college.
Work hard.
Take responsibility for the loans you sign.
Then something curious happened.
College costs exploded.
Universities built luxury dormitories, climbing walls, and administrative bureaucracies large enough to impress the Pentagon.
Students borrowed staggering amounts of money.
And eventually a new political theory emerged:
Someone else should pay the bill.
Student loan forgiveness became the rallying cry.
The fairness argument was breathtaking in its creativity.
Truck drivers should pay the loans of lawyers.
Electricians should cover the tuition of sociology majors.
People who already paid their debts should subsidize those who did not.
Universities—whose prices caused the problem in the first place—were largely left untouched.
The platform promises opportunity and fairness.
The policy proposal often looks like a national transfer payment from people who skipped college to people who didn’t.
From the barn comes the patient voice again.
Oh, Wilbur…
“If borrowing money means someone else pays it back, you’re not running a college system. You’re running a bar tab.”
The Real Platform
Eventually a suspicion forms.
Perhaps the Democratic platform is not intended to be a governing blueprint at all.
Perhaps it is a coalition maintenance document.
A collection of carefully worded promises designed to keep every faction inside the tent:
the activists
the bureaucrats
the academic theorists
the suburban moderates
the professional grievance industry
the redistribution enthusiasts
Each group receives a paragraph that sounds encouraging.
The result is a document that can mean almost anything.
Which means, in practice, that it means almost nothing.
The Horse Test
There is a simple way to evaluate a political philosophy.
Imagine explaining it out loud in a stable.
If the horse laughs, something has gone wrong.
Right now the Democratic Party appears to be failing the Horse Test rather badly.
Secure borders that aren’t secure.
Police funding that wasn’t funded.
Energy policies that apologize for the energy we still need.
Speech protections that supervise speech.
Unity achieved by dividing the country into demographic fragments.
Debt forgiveness that politely sends the bill to someone else.
You begin to understand why the platform is so difficult to locate.
It isn’t really a map.
It’s fog.
And somewhere in the distance you can hear a familiar voice again.
Oh, Wilbur…
Then comes the laugh.
Not a chuckle.
Not a snicker.
A full, echoing Horse Laugh rolling across the barnyard the way Jerry and I used to deliver it when one of us said something too ridiculous to pass without comment.
Because when the horse is the only one making sense…
it might be time to rethink the humans.
Looking for substance in a contradictory, divisive document that is rarely seen in the light of day... until now. Consider it well, Padawan.