And yet, there is a kind of pro-child politics that is focused on children themselves, as opposed to the adults who do or do not have them and the virtues those grown-ups do or do not possess. It’s unglamorous and of little discursive interest precisely because it isn’t obviously useful in stoking liberal or conservative anger; it doesn’t trigger anyone enough, in other words, to stake a significant claim on the national consciousness. It involves careful tinkering with programs, such as the child tax credit, that relieve childhood poverty if administered correctly (ideally, as it turns out, not by the IRS) and designed well (without prejudice against the poorest families). It’s stolidly focused on children and the things they need: peace, good health, food, shelter, education and development, love, care, space and time to learn and grow.

In a more functional democracy, the fortunes of children ought to be the kind of thing that brings diverse constituencies together. We all stand to gain if our children prosper, after all, not merely in political terms but in a higher, more cosmic sense.

Alas, that is not our approach, and our children are worse off for it. Subjects relinquished to the culture wars never retain their own essence for long; instead, they become symbols of other things—means to ends instead of ends in themselves. It’s hard to justify such a punishment for America’s children—being coded as accessories to the right or antagonists to the left, considering that they themselves are helpless in all our works. And yet here we are: another day, another low.