Politics & Power Quote by Henry F. Ashurst

A Senate seat, Ashurst implies, is less a prize than a test of character that will eventually demand a sacrifice. The line draws its force from a deliberately harsh gatekeeping move: “No man is fit...” isn’t policy talk, it’s moral sorting. By defining fitness as a willingness to lose the job, Ashurst flips the usual incentive structure of politics on its head. Ambition becomes suspect; survival becomes a temptation to betray the very purpose of office.

The subtext is aimed at a familiar disease in legislatures: the quiet trade of principle for tenure. “Political life” isn’t just a career; it’s reputation, alliances, committee power, the intoxicating sense of being inside history. Ashurst is warning that these are precisely the things that make a senator pliable. If you aren’t prepared to burn them for “great principle,” then principle is only a talking point - the decorative language you use to justify whichever vote keeps you viable.

Context matters here. Ashurst served through the Progressive Era’s aftershocks, the New Deal realignment, and the long stretch when moneyed interests, party machines, and wartime pressures all pushed elected officials toward conformity. The Senate also prized seniority and clubbiness: longevity as status. Against that culture, his sentence functions as an oath and a rebuke. It romanticizes the “lost cause” vote not because losing is noble in itself, but because it’s the only reliable proof that conviction outranks self-preservation.

It’s a hard standard, almost unfair by design. That’s why it works: it forces the listener to ask what, exactly, they would risk being a senator for.