The Pencil Candidate: A Sharp Critique of Oregon's Education Crisis
There’s something undeniably absurd about a six-foot-tall pencil campaigning for governor. But in Oregon, where J. Schuberth—the human behind the pencil costume—is making waves, the absurdity is the point. Literally. Personally, I think this is one of the most ingenious political stunts I’ve seen in years. It’s not just about the spectacle; it’s about forcing a conversation that Oregon desperately needs to have.
Why a Pencil?
Let’s start with the obvious: a pencil is a symbol of education. But what makes this particularly fascinating is how Schuberth is using it to highlight a crisis. Oregon’s fourth-graders rank dead last in reading nationally. Dead last. That’s not just a statistic; it’s a damning indictment of a system that’s failing its youngest citizens. Schuberth, a former college professor and literacy advocate, isn’t just dressing up as a pencil for laughs. They’re using the absurdity to draw attention to a very real, very serious problem.
What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about test scores. It’s about the future of an entire generation. If you take a step back and think about it, a state’s education system is the foundation of its future. Oregon’s current trajectory suggests a future where literacy—a basic skill—is out of reach for too many kids. That’s not just a policy failure; it’s a moral one.
The Write-In Strategy: A Symbolic Protest
Schuberth is asking voters to write “Pencil” on their ballots instead of voting for a Democrat or Republican. On the surface, it’s an absurd request. But in my opinion, it’s also a brilliant one. It’s a way to say, “We’re so fed up with the status quo that we’d rather vote for an inanimate object than the people in power.” This raises a deeper question: What does it say about our political system when a pencil feels like a more compelling candidate than the actual options?
From my perspective, this isn’t just a protest vote; it’s a wake-up call. Schuberth knows they won’t win. The Oregon constitution doesn’t allow a pencil to be governor. But that’s not the point. The point is to force leaders like Governor Tina Kotek to confront the reality of their failures. If thousands of people write in “Pencil,” it’s a clear message: we’re not satisfied with your solutions.
Kotek’s Response: Too Little, Too Late?
Kotek has acknowledged the problem and made education a priority. She’s invested in literacy programs and passed laws to intervene in underperforming districts. But here’s the thing: these efforts are relatively new, and they haven’t moved the needle yet. Schuberth argues—and I tend to agree—that Kotek’s approach is too timid. Mississippi, a state with far fewer resources, has made dramatic improvements in literacy by taking bold, focused action. Oregon, with its supermajority Democratic leadership, should be doing the same.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Kotek has responded to Pencil’s campaign. She’s said, “I agree with Pencil.” That’s a smart political move, but it also feels like lip service. If she truly agrees, why hasn’t she done more? Why hasn’t she taken the kind of aggressive action that’s worked in other states?
The Broader Implications: When Politics Fails, Symbols Step In
What this really suggests is that when political systems fail to address critical issues, people will find creative ways to express their frustration. Pencil isn’t just a candidate; they’re a symbol of that frustration. And symbols have power. They can galvanize public opinion in ways that traditional political campaigns can’t.
One thing that immediately stands out is how Pencil’s campaign has resonated with voters. At the Portland farmer’s market, people from all walks of life—Democrats, Republicans, and independents—said they’d consider writing in Pencil. That’s not just a quirky anecdote; it’s a reflection of how deeply people care about this issue.
The Future of Pencil’s Campaign
Schuberth has already spent nearly $30,000 of their own money on this campaign, and they’re not stopping after the primary. They’re planning to continue through the November general election. Personally, I think this is more than a campaign; it’s a movement. It’s about using every tool available—even a giant pencil costume—to demand better for Oregon’s kids.
What this really suggests is that sometimes, the most effective political statements aren’t made by politicians at all. They’re made by ordinary people who refuse to accept the status quo. Pencil may not win the governor’s race, but they’ve already won something far more important: they’ve forced Oregon to confront its education crisis.
Final Thoughts
If you take a step back and think about it, Pencil’s campaign is a masterclass in political symbolism. It’s absurd, it’s provocative, and it’s impossible to ignore. But more than that, it’s a reminder that democracy isn’t just about voting for the lesser of two evils. It’s about demanding better, even when it seems hopeless.
In my opinion, Pencil is exactly what Oregon needs right now—not as a governor, but as a catalyst for change. And if enough people write in their name, it could be the sharpest message Oregon’s leaders have ever received.
