Every so often, a TikTok or Instagram reel circulates claiming to identify the “worst alum” from each NESCAC school. It is unserious by design: a low-stakes provocation meant to farm comments and start arguments. The latest viral iteration didn’t actually include Bates, but it sparked a conversation between me and a friend: If we had to choose one alum, who would it be? 

Without much hesitation, the name that came up was Jared Golden. For those unconnected to Maine politics, Golden is a 2011 Bates graduate currently representing Maine’s 2nd Congressional District, the largest rural district east of the Mississippi. It is a choice that seems strange at first, yet unsurprising to those familiar with his record. The distinction regarding this title, however, is specific: It is not because Golden is the most powerful or destructive political figure to emerge from Bates. He is not. It is because he embodies a particular kind of political disappointment that feels especially jarring, given the specific values Bates claims to teach. 

The college’s current mission statement, adopted in 2010, just a year before Golden graduated, explicitly dedicates itself to “the emancipating potential of the liberal arts” and “informed civic action.” It promises to prepare leaders committed to “responsible stewardship of the wider world.” Golden represents the inverse of that promise. He is not a steward of the wider world; he is a caretaker of a broken status quo. His tenure proves that for the vulnerable, the refusal to act is just as destructive as the intent to harm.

Golden has long been framed as a pragmatist, building his political brand around independence from party leadership and breaking with Democrats when political survival demands it. That explanation is tidy and reasonable, and for many people, sufficient. For me, it is not. His centrism did not emerge out of nowhere. 

Born in Lewiston and raised in nearby Leeds, he returned to the area after serving in the Marines. After Bates, he worked as a congressional staffer for Republican Senator Susan Collins. In Congress, he joined the Blue Dog Coalition, voted against Nancy Pelosi for Speaker and consistently emphasized bipartisanship and institutional stability. None of this was hidden.

The real question is why so many voters, particularly young voters and Bates students, came to read him differently in the first place. That expectation emerged from context: Bates’s institutional emphasis on social justice, the shorthand of party affiliation, and the way popular discourse often flattens “liberal arts graduate” into a progressive composite. Golden’s identity invited optimism. But that optimism rested more on inference than evidence, and it was never fully borne out in practice.

Golden is not a covert Republican Party plant or an ideological infiltrator. He is something even more frustrating than that. He is a Democrat who fails to understand structural harm, the way policies compound over time to marginalize vulnerable groups, regardless of individual intent. Again and again, he chooses caution over courage, opting not for the wrong side outright, but for the safest one.

Of course, Golden is not the only conservative voice to come out of Lewiston. Bates has graduated prominent Republicans, including former House Judiciary Chair Bob Goodlatte ’74 and current Virginia Congressman Ben Cline ’94. One could argue that their voting records, which consistently oppose reproductive rights, environmental regulation and social safety nets, have caused objectively more damage than Golden’s moderation.

But with figures like Goodlatte and Cline, there is no such dissonance. They graduated long before the college dedicated itself to ‘informed civic action,’ and their politics align seamlessly with their stated ideology; they are “honest enemies” to the progressive ethos Bates often projects. They operate without pretense, fully owning their conservatism. We do not expect them to dismantle systems of oppression because they have explicitly dedicated their careers to preserving them.

Golden is different. He illustrates the specific danger of complacency. He acts not as an external enemy, but an internal anchor. He is a Democrat, a Millennial, and a product of the modern Bates curriculum; he was among the very first classes to study under the General Education Concentration system, designed specifically to foster interdisciplinary thinking and ethical inquiry. He sat in the same classrooms as the students criticizing him today. He speaks the language of the liberal arts: nuance, critical inquiry and historical context. This makes his record not just a disagreement, but a disappointment. We expect more from him because his education implies a shared understanding of systemic injustice that his voting record repeatedly denies.

In 2022, this gap was painfully clear when Golden voted against reinstating a federal ban on assault-style weapons. He argued that banning specific weapons missed the point, that enforcement and individual responsibility mattered more. Then came October 2023. A mass shooting in Lewiston killed 18 people. The following day, Golden reversed his position. He endorsed an assault weapons ban, called his earlier stance a failure, and asked for forgiveness from his constituents.

Many praised the reversal as courageous. I did not. To me, it revealed the limits of his decision-making framework. Why were decades of research, advocacy and repeated mass shootings not enough? Why did moral clarity only arrive once the violence became local and undeniable? A Bates education emphasizes the ability to evaluate evidence and act before harm becomes personal. Golden’s shift reads less like growth than delay.

This tension became especially clear last month, when Golden was one of just seven House Democrats to vote for a Department of Homeland Security funding bill backed by Republicans. He framed the vote as necessary to protect public safety, pointing to funding for body cameras and de-escalation training. But the bill also continued funding for DHS and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) at a moment when aggressive enforcement operations were generating fear in immigrant communities across Maine.

This is not an abstract issue. Lewiston is the heart of his district and home to a vibrant, established community of immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers. By voting to fund the very agencies targeting these communities, he failed the basic test of local representation: protecting the vulnerable people who live in your district.

In 2023, Golden also voted with Republicans to overturn the Biden administration’s student loan forgiveness plan, arguing that it was unfair to those who did not attend college. This framing flattened a structural crisis into a question of individual choice. Bates trains students to interrogate systems rather than reduce them to binaries of deserving and undeserving. Golden’s approach did the opposite.

This disconnection is further deepened by a fundamental failure of access. For years, constituents have criticized Golden for refusing to hold open, in-person town halls, opting instead for controlled tele-town halls or private meetings. Bates teaches that civic action requires showing up, even when the conversation is difficult or the feedback is critical. By insulating himself from direct, unscripted engagement, Golden treated his constituents less like partners in governance and more like liabilities to be managed. It is a retreat that signals not just a fear of criticism, but a fundamental disrespect for the accountability his office requires. 

Golden has announced he is stepping away from electoral politics, citing hyper-partisanship and “incivility” as key reasons. That assessment may be sincere. But it also underscores the core tension of his career. He is leaving because the process has become unpleasant, not because he failed to fix the outcomes.

If students want to see what a Bates education can produce at its best, the contrast is already there. Edmund Muskie ’36 acted with moral urgency, helping shape environmental and civil rights policy before crisis forced action. Benjamin Mays (Class of 1920) used his Bates education to challenge racial domination at its roots. Peter Gomes ’65 risked his career by coming out to confront exclusionary theology.

Compared to these figures, Jared Golden’s record clarifies why the question of “worst alum” lingers. Not because he is the most harmful, corrupt, or extreme. But because he should know better. He is a Bates-educated lawmaker trained to understand the systemic consequences of his inaction, yet repeatedly chooses delay, caution, and political safety instead.

Golden is not the worst because he did the most damage. He is the worst because, surrounded by evidence and armed with the tools to dismantle structural harm, he consistently chooses to let it happen.