In some ways, the rise of yearbook politics is a tribute to the norms of the meritocracy. Schools play an important role in meritocratic sorting, so it is perhaps unsurprising that many in the media and political classes (citadels of the meritocracy) should think that yearbooks are a valuable mechanism for moral sorting. Just as someone is always a graduate of Harvard or Stanford or wherever, someone's yearbook stands as an indelible testament of who he or she is.
However, there's something profoundly limited about reducing someone to a yearbook profile from decades ago. Such a reduction presumes that a person can't change; moreover, it also presumes that a person's yearbook profile is a sufficiently revealing document of who a person was even then. In reality, human beings are complicated. Well-intentioned people do offensive things all the time, and it would be morally absurd (and intellectually naive) to reduce a person to a single unworthy incident. Also, people do change, which is why it can be a troublesome enterprise to say that someone's representation of themselves from decades ago represents who they are today.
The vulgarized predestination of yearbook politics might gratify moral vanity, but it's less clear that it serves the purpose of either ethical rigor or a responsive politics. A politician's record in office (including his record of rhetoric) is far more relevant to the public interest than a yearbook from a lifetime ago. A society that does not admit that people can change and rejects the possibility of moral improvement is one that will have a hard time sustaining republican self-governance. Character matters, but recognizing the full import of character means recognizing complexity and possibility.
Yearbook politics also points to a wider danger in our politics. Many in the leadership class have expressed more interest in conducting moralistic inquisitions than taking on the responsibility of confronting the challenges of the present. The constant refrain of "that's not who we are" might be comforting, but serious politics demands much more. Earlier this week, I wrote about the importance of magnanimity for sustaining civic liberties, and I think that point still applies.
