Sympathy for the Swanson
Parks and Recreation’s Ron Swanson lends libertarianism and conservatism some much needed humanity
In “King of the Hill: The Last Bipartisan TV Comedy,” Bert Clere argues FOX’s animated sitcom King of the Hill (1997–2010) transcends distinctions of “red” and “blue” by conveying its “redneck” Texas characters with complexity and compassion. Clere grew up in rural North Carolina and saw his own world in the series.
Clere opens his article with the broad statement that while American conservatives watch crime dramas and reality shows, American liberals “generally love quirky comedies like Community, Parks and Recreation, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and The Mindy Project.”
While I agree with much of what Clere says here, there is a TV character who embodies the same compassionate conservatism Clere declared dead since King of the Hill last aired six years ago. And significantly, that character is tucked away in the very list of shows Clere labels as most liberal: Parks and Recreation’s Ron Swanson.
Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman) is a libertarian wet-dream smuggled — via a zany, big-government-loving, Amy Poehler-shaped Trojan horse — into the televisions (and Macbook Pros) of liberals everywhere. Swanson is a glimpse into the foundation and underpinnings of conservative thought.
Parks and Recreation premiered in 2009, only a year after Barack Obama was first elected to the presidency. As Clere mentions, it is a fundamentally liberal show centering on Poehler’s Leslie Knope, a big-hearted bureaucrat who wants her government to be even bigger.
Knope works in the office of parks and recreation, runs for city council, and by the end of the show, she runs the Midwest office of the National Parks service. Further, in a flashforward at the end of the series, she is governor of Indiana, and it is hinted that she or her husband is President.
In Parks and Recreation, Ron Swanson is Leslie Knope’s foil. When Leslie pushes projects and passes laws that expand government programs and parks, Ron suggests everything should be privatized, including selling the parks to Chuck E. Cheese.
As well, when Leslie tries to curb the eating habits of her town, Pawnee (one of the most obese places in the country), Ron sees this as a limitation of personal freedom, saying: “The whole point of this country is if you want to eat garbage, balloon up to 600 pounds, and die of a heart attack at 43, you can, you are free to do so. To me, that’s beautiful.”
But perhaps the best summation of Ron Swanson’s personality and political convictions is the “Swanson Pyramid of Greatness,” a poster he uses to coach a children’s basketball team in the third season premiere.
The pyramid is filled with many ridiculous aspects, including Swanson’s deep aversion to skim milk, but it also acts as a visualization of his beliefs, including the following:
- Property Rights: they exist. Do not let them be taken away from you.
- Welfare Avoidance
- America: the only country that matters.
- Capitalism: God’s way of determining who is smart and who is poor.
While this may read as satire (and to an extent, it is), the pyramid also reveals Ron’s humanity. For example, he covets friends, teamwork, and — at the top of the pyramid, above all else — honor.
This is what makes Ron Swanson such a great character. Although his beliefs are radically different from the show’s audience, he is still a relatable character — and this humanizing helps to break down the party divide.
Much like Bert Clere, I grew up in a rural town in Wisconsin, where seas of red cornfields and factories flank blue cities. In a mock election during middle school, I was one of two kids in my class to “vote” Democrat — or rather, parrot my Democratic parents. We also had a “Drive Your Tractor to School” day. And every spring, my morning bus ride smelled like manure.
I didn’t need to watch King of the Hill growing up — I lived it. But once I had that high school diploma in hand, I got the hell out of dodge, fleeing to greener, more liberal pastures.
At my famously left-leaning university, I surrounded myself with people who shared my same political ideology. This was fantastic at first. After all, I’d spent so much of my adolescence as a political outcast, being around like-minded peers was affirming.
However, as universities and art schools are often populated by the same insular liberal groups, I was soon caught in an echo chamber. With my ideology set in stone, I became rigidly opposed to the political ideas of others.
But the character of Ron Swanson taught me — and I suspect others of my peer group — to understand and have compassion for the beliefs of others. Even if I disagree with Ron’s politics, I learned that some of the principles of conservatism (small government, personal freedom and right to privacy, opposition to taxes) are much more sound and interesting when not couched in hateful, ignorant rhetoric.
Ron Swanson is a complex and compelling character, reminding me the conservatives around whom I grew up are just as multifaceted as he is, and that their political beliefs need not necessarily negate a friendship with them.
What’s more, Ron’s relationship with the rest of Parks and Rec’s characters should remind people on both sides of the aisle that bipartisanship and working together are far preferable to our current divided state.
This post originally appeared in a graduate course publication for the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
