Over the weekend, the media seized upon a report that Ben Carson might have fabricated certain aspects of his life story, specifically his account of the time he was offered a full scholarship to the United States Military Academy at West Point.
It turns out he never even applied to West Point, and there is no such thing as a “full scholarship” to the Academy as tuition is free to all admitted students. Add on to it is claim to have had a sit down dinner with a 4-star general while they were not in the same city, and you have the beginnings of a scandal.
However, I could not care less about this. Those in the public eye have done away with facts for the sake of a coherent personal narrative ever since politics became a profession. Whether or not Carson has now joined the legion of public figures that have done the same is of no consequence.
What matters to me, and what should frankly offend you, is his continued insistence that he is qualified to lead this nation. He is not, not by a long shot.
First, I must say something before I dig into this. In my opinion, Ben Carson is a good man. I find myself in the position where I must state this outright, because by the end of this column you may come to the conclusion that I despise the man. This is just not true.
Throughout his life Carson has established himself as a man above the rest. He is kind. He is thoughtful. He is slow to judge and quick to understand. His accomplishments in the field of neurosurgery are unequaled. By nothing more than sheer determination he rose from abject poverty to the very top of his field. His revolutionary techniques in the confines of the operating room have saved and will continue to save countless lives. In the past, he has even been recognized for his exemplary work by the NAACP.
Carson touched on his vast experience as a doctor in a Facebook post where he attempted to allay concerns over his limited qualifications. He pointed to his countless hours spent in hospitals caring for others who could not hope to care for themselves. He pointed to his upbringing, and how he succeeded against all odds. He pointed to his unyielding faith in God. However, while all of these things point to a man with exemplary character, none qualify him to become the next president of the United States.
The president should be the greatest among us, and while it is certainly true that Ben Carson is a nearly unequaled genius in the realm of neurosurgery, the same cannot be said for domestic policy and international relations.
Take a moment to listen to Ben Carson speak on his plan to handle Russia. He sounds like a 10th grader who forgot about his assignment until the night before and spent all night cramming on a topic he knows little about. He seems utterly convinced that the best way to handle an active shooter is for unarmed and untrained civilians to rush the gunman like a zombie horde. His tax plan has left economists dumbfounded, and if implemented would leave our nation with perhaps its largest budget shortfall in history.
He also believes with his whole heart that the great pyramids were built for grain storage by the Old Testament figure Joseph, even though there is no evidence outside of scripture that Joseph even existed and what loose dates historians can come up with for his lifetime are placed squarely within the reign of Egypt’s Middle Kingdom, a kingdom which did not even begin its reign until centuries after the pyramids were built, as tombs.
However, these are among the only topics that Ben Carson, near the top of the Republican polls, is actually willing to take a stance on. It is far more common for him to assert that he doesn’t know enough about a topic to discuss it at length. Let me reiterate that. For the majority of public policy questions on which he was asked to give an opinion, he simply does. Not. Know.
I’m sorry, Dr. Carson. I really am. Because I think you would make an excellent Congressman, or even a Senator, positions where a learning curve is to be expected, even embraced. But the presidency is different. The American people need an expert, not a freshman in desperate need of an all-nighter before he can even hope to pass.