It’s a question of balance, and the danger lurking should balance be lost.

I have never been a fan of John Boehner. Maybe it was jealousy over his perpetual tan. More likely it had to do with what I perceived to be his seeming knee-jerk negativity. If it came from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, John could be relied upon to vent his opposition immediately in apocalyptic sound bites—even if the idea originally came from his own party. He was just too predictable.

However, the circumstances surrounding his recent demise as Speaker of the House are forcing me to reassess the gentleman from Ohio.

When I hear his colleagues from both sides of the aisle in the House say John Boehner is a good man, who honored the institution, and tried to move the people’s business ahead, well, heck, they know him better than I do. Maybe I should cut him some slack.

When I listen to the kind of folks in his own party who are reveling in his departure, I am even more convinced a little reconsideration is in order.

By all accounts, Boehner’s apostasy had to do moving legislation along over the objections of the Tea Party wing of his own caucus—sometimes going as far as (gasp) soliciting Democrat votes to do so. Just imagine – actually joining with the opposition to conduct the business of governing.

Unimaginable. Unforgiveable.

Don’t get me wrong. John Boehner is not a closet liberal. He is a rock ribbed conservative who could proudly share the stage with a Barry Goldwater or a Ronald Reagan, but he apparently drew the line at being a party to bringing down the legislative branch in flames—and for this reluctance, he was so vilified and harried that he felt he had no choice not only to step down from the speaker’s chair, but from out of the chamber itself. He has become a victim of the current Republican brand of conservatism beginning to eat its own.

This development is troubling. It means that there is a significant minority in the Republican caucus who would rather see our government fail than proceed in any manner other than their own no-compromise, take-no-prisoners, scorched-earth game plan. They have not hesitated hollow out the center of their own party, leaving their far right brand of orthodoxy in total control. If they can peddle their agenda effectively, it is their aim to eventually take total control of the Republic itself.

If this were to come to pass, it would be a betrayal of a basic premise of the Constitution itself—unity without uniformity.

The Constitution contemplates hearing many different voices, all competing for acceptance in the marketplace of ideas—but, nevertheless, all with a common commitment to making this government work—not advocating, however veiled the threat, to blow it up in the hope that something better and more to their liking will arise out of the ashes.

Unity without uniformity.

The document that came out of the Philadelphia convention in 1787 is one big balancing act hammered out not by angels, but by political factions representing deeply divided interests—small states versus large states, North versus South, strong central government versus weak central government, elites versus the common man.

There was a recognition that it was impossible to come up with a political testament that would please everybody entirely, so the Framers settled for a system that at least allowed contending factions to co-exist.

They settled not for the perfect, but for the possible.

(Is anyone paying attention?)

The genius was to encourage, through the establishment of various branches of government and the concept of checks and balances, the creation of a tension between competing political poles—the ying and yang of political thought. We need a John Boehner, just as we need a Nancy Pelosi. We need a Mitch McConnell as much as we need an Elizabeth Warren. The willingness to engage in political discourse is critical. As the extremes make their case, a more moderate middle rounds off the sharp edges, which allows for an accommodation wherein government can function—like a metal ball suspended between two magnets. Destroy one of the magnets—or refuse to engage in the discourse—and the whole construct collapses.

How all of this will turn out is up in the air. We have experienced periods of divisive politics before—even a civil war—and we have muddled through. This should give us hope, but not comfort.  Historically, democracies or republics have not been successful. Starved of input by a public more interested in other things, they typically fall prey to interests who may represent themselves as being patriotic, but are essentially anti-democratic, assuming being democratic infers being open to a lively interchange of ideas and a give and take among those elected to represent the public at large.

As 2016 approaches, it is incumbent upon us to pay attention to what is being said, and what is being advocated as a right path for the future. There is danger here. Should we fail to do so, and should we put into power those who believe the only right path is their own, we run the risk of Lincoln’s nightmare coming true—that this government of the people, by the people, and for the people shall perish from the face of the earth.

So long, John Boehner. Happy trails.