America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Chapter 107 The Green Party

"Keep quiet, no more talking, Liam. Cough, I mean: keep quiet at crucial moments." Matthew Chen parked the car in front of a red brick building and then looked at the address on his phone.

This must be the Stanford Political Science Department.

Liam, in the passenger seat, smiled. "I know, Matthew, but you look too nervous."

"Is there?"

"some."

Their task today was to visit several scholars who might be willing to endorse Sean's policies, and then find scholars willing to directly serve as their mouthpiece in the campaign against Krane.

Their first stop was Stanford University, where they met with political science professor Alan West and economics associate professor Lena Moreno.

The two entered the building and saw photos of past department heads hanging on the wall, all of them serious white males, with women and people of color appearing only in recent years.

Professor West's office is on the third floor.

After they found the place and knocked on the door, a man in his fifties wearing a sweater vest invited them in. The office was small, filled with books and desks, and several potted plants sat on the windowsill.

After exchanging pleasantries, Matthew explained his purpose: he hoped that Professor West could write a policy analysis on Sean's plans, or at least give an interview to discuss the role of government in the technological transformation.

After listening, Professor West said, "Young man, I am indeed interested in your candidate's ideas. The problems he raised are very practical, but he lacks specific, proven implementation paths. As an academic, I cannot easily endorse a half-finished policy proposal."

Liam tried to explain: "Professor, we are hoping that experts like you can help improve the plan—"

“That will take time,” West interrupted. “And I have to consider academic neutrality. If I publicly endorse a candidate, it could affect the credibility of my future research.”

The next twenty minutes turned into a tough tug-of-war. Matthew and Liam took turns explaining the openness of Sean's team and promising to seriously consider all professional opinions, but Professor West remained reserved.

Both of them were somewhat dejected as they left the office.

"Next up is Associate Professor Moreno," Matthew said, glancing at the schedule. "Hopefully she'll be more open-minded."

Lena Moreno's office was in another building. She was much younger than West, in her early forties, and warmly invited them to sit down, even making them coffee.

But after hearing their request, she reacted with equal caution.

"I appreciate Sean Penn's efforts to break the traditional political framework," Moreno said. "But I have to ask: Does his campaign have a sustainable organizational foundation, or is it just a display of personal charisma? If he loses the primaries, all these policy discussions will vanish."

Matthew tried to assure them: "We are building a team and expanding our support base—"

"How many policy experts are on the team? How many have actual government experience?" Moreno pressed. "I'm not questioning your enthusiasm, but policymaking is a complex task that requires a network of expertise."

The ensuing conversation lasted for half an hour, but again yielded no clear results.

Moreno agreed to read the policy documents they provided, but refused to make any commitments.

Stepping out of the building, the sunlight was blinding. Matthew and Liam stood in the parking lot, speechless for a moment.

"Two consecutive losses," Liam sighed. "Did we do something wrong?"

"Scholars are inherently cautious. They're worried about reputational risks. We have two professors from Berkeley this afternoon, let's go have lunch first,"

Matthew smiled wryly.

They then found a sandwich shop near campus. While they were eating, Matthew's phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number.

"Hello, is this Matthew Chen?" A gentle male voice came from the other end of the phone. "This is David Greenberg, Professor of Political Ecology at UC Santa Cruz. I heard you were visiting scholars to discuss Sean Penn's policy proposals?"

Matthew became alert: "How did you know?"

“Academia is a small circle,” Greenberg chuckled. “Professor West is an old friend of mine; he just called me. I’m very interested in your topic. Would you be willing to come to Santa Cruz to discuss it? I happen to be free this afternoon.”

Matthew and Liam exchanged a glance. An opportunity?

"Of course, Professor. We were originally scheduled to be at Berkeley this afternoon, but we can reschedule."

"Great. How about 2 PM? The location is my office; I'll text you the address."

After hanging up the phone, Liam asked疑惑地问道, "Political ecology? Does that have anything to do with our topic?"

"It might be an interdisciplinary perspective," Matthew said. "In any case, it's worth seeing."

So they changed their plans and drove to Santa Cruz.

More than an hour later, they arrived at a campus that was very different from Stanford and Berkeley.

Professor Greenberg's office is in a building that looks like a converted farmhouse. He himself is in his fifties, with messy hair, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and looks more like an outdoor guide than a professor.

"Please come in, please come in!" he greeted warmly. "Sorry it's a bit messy here, I just came back from a field survey."

After exchanging pleasantries, Greenberg got straight to the point this time.

"As you can see, I study political ecology, which, simply put, is the study of how political decisions interact with the environment, resources, and communities," he explained. "So I'm interested when I hear political newcomers actually talking about concepts like 'community resilience' and 'regional economic ecology.' Most politicians only talk about employment figures and GDP growth, but they don't understand that the economy is a complex system embedded in the social and ecological environment."

Matthew and Liam were invigorated.

This is indeed a point that Sean often emphasizes but is difficult to articulate in traditional political language.

They discussed for half an hour, and Greenberg did indeed offer several insightful suggestions.

"I can write an analysis for you," Greenberg concluded. "In fact, I'm already writing a paper on regional development in the post-growth era, and your candidates' ideas can serve as excellent case studies."

"That's great, Professor. We—" Matthew's eyes lit up.

“But,” Greenberg interrupted him, his tone turning serious, “I have one condition.”

The two awaited further details.

"I am not only an academic, but also an active member of the Green Party," Greenberg said. "We are discussing strategies for this year's election. It could be beneficial for both sides if Sean Penn, as an independent candidate, can cooperate with the Green Party on certain issues to form a united front of progressives."

"Similarly, we also hate Crane!"

Matthew's heart sank.

Here it comes, this is a political exchange.

"Professor, we appreciate your support, but Mr. Sean Penn insists on maintaining his independence," he said cautiously. "He doesn't want to be labeled with any existing party affiliation."

Greenberg waved his hand: "I'm not saying he should join the Green Party. I'm saying we can cooperate on some issues. For example, we can commit to not field candidates in certain ridings and concentrate resources on countering candidates from both parties' establishments."

Liam's heart skipped a beat; he felt the suggestion made sense. But Matthew's expression grew even more serious.

“Professor,” Matthew said, “most of the Green Party members are on cultural left issues, and if Mr. Pan has to be defined as left, then he is also on the economic left. Although the two are related, their focuses are different. Moreover, the Green Party’s stance on some issues may be too radical and could scare away centrist voters.”

"So you only want to use academic expertise, but are unwilling to make any political concessions?" Greenberg's tone turned cold.

“That’s not what I meant,” Matthew explained. “We are willing to cooperate on specific policies, but we must maintain the independence of our campaign. The Green Party only has 3% to 5% support in California, and if Mr. Sean is labeled as part of the Green Party coalition, it may limit his ability to attract a wider range of voters.”

Greenberg remained silent for a few seconds.

"Do you know why many reform movements in history failed?" he concluded. "Because reformers were too fixated on purity and unwilling to build broad alliances. They preferred to remain correct on a small scale" rather than form large, imperfect alliances."

Is it really appropriate for the Green Party to say this? It makes it sound like you really enjoy cooperating.

But Liam couldn't help but interrupt: "Matthew, I think the professor has a point. We can't win the election entirely on our own; we'll need to build some alliances—"

“But Liam, what’s the cost?” Matthew turned to him. “If we tie ourselves to the Greens too early, we might lose the opportunity to attract moderates and even conservatives who are dissatisfied with the status quo. Mr. Sean’s advantage is precisely that he can transcend traditional party boundaries.”

“If we don’t form any alliances at all, we might not attract anyone,” Liam countered. “Politics is the art of compromise, isn’t it?”

Greenberg watched the two young men argue, a mask of pain on his face.

No, don't talk about these things in front of him!

Matthew took a deep breath: "Liam, have you read the history of America's Progressive Era? The reformers back then did build broad coalitions, but the core driving force was the urban middle class and professionals, wasn't it? They transcended the existing partisan machine and drove real change. If we tie ourselves to others now, we might become their appendages instead of creating a new political space."

"But at least the Greens share our values!" Liam insisted. "We can't please everyone. Sometimes we have to choose sides."

“Taking sides and cooperating on issues are two different things,” Matthew said. “We can support certain bills proposed by the Green Party and cooperate on specific issues, but our campaign strategy must be independent. This is a matter of principle.”

The debate continues.

Greenberg had no intention of interrupting them at this point; he simply listened quietly, occasionally jotting something down in his notebook.

Just then, Matthew's phone vibrated.

The caller ID showed Rachel.

Matthew made an apologetic gesture and walked to the window to answer the phone.

"Miss Jones, what's wrong?"

"Matthew," Rachel's voice came through the phone, the background noise a bit loud, "there's been a bit of a problem at the panel. A protester stormed in, and things are a little chaotic. Sean needs all team members to stay on track. How's everything going on your end?"

Matthew's heart raced. He glanced at Liam, who was still discussing things with Professor Greenberg, and then at the tranquil campus scenery outside the window.

"We—" He hesitated for a moment, "We've encountered some complicated circumstances. Is there anything I can do?"

"Not for now, the bodyguards have the situation under control. But Sean asked me to ask you if the scholars' visit uncovered any truly helpful figures willing to assist us." Rachel paused. "He used the word 'helper,' you know his style."

Matthew glanced back at Professor Greenberg. The professor was looking at him gently, waiting for him to end the call.

"We—" Matthew said, "we may have found one. But the conditions are a bit complicated."

"How complicated?"

"The other party is a member of the Green Party."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"—Sean, I'll say it again: whether you're on the far left or the far right, we can communicate. Anyway, Matthew, you and Liam have to be back in Pasadena by tonight. We need everyone together to reassess some things, okay? I trust you can make the right judgment."

The two exchanged a few more words before the call ended.