An Ode To The West Wing.
I love The West Wing. There. I said it. Actually, that’s not completely true. I really like The West Wing would be more accurate.
I do LOVE the first four seasons (or series as we call it on this side of the pond) and I like (mostly) the last three. More than anything, what I think I do love is the way watching The West Wing made me feel.
I’ve watched and re-watched the whole thing probably about six or seven times over the years. Sometimes I get to the end and just start all over again.
I was a little late to the party when it came to The West Wing, I think I only watched it for the first time in 2014, given the last episode aired in 2006 you’ll see what I mean.
Since then I’ve watched it ‘properly’ 3 times, but I often have it on my iPad while I prepare and cook food in the kitchen. OK, I’m not really watching it then, but it’s there with me, in the background, like a kind of digital comfort blanket.
I was born and bred in the United Kingdom, and whilst I’ve visited the US several times (I even got married there) I’m not impacted by the real-life politics of that country, at least not directly.
Except that’s not true either.
In recent years, probably since 2016 or so I’ve developed an odd fascination with American politics.
It’s part curiosity, part trans-Atlantic ridicule, part intrigue, past disbelief and increasingly part terror with the way it works and those who work within and around that landscape.
Looking back, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that ‘you know who’ became President around that time and it felt like everyone went through a step-change in how the political machine worked (or often didn’t).
In the years since then, my fascination has meant I’ve tried to keep abreast of the comings and goings in both the US and the UK, probably partly over-filtered by social media and its algorithm, not to mention the echo chamber I unwittingly created around myself.
A place where I like to think I saw the best of what those who shared my worldview have to offer. The clarity, the humour and the left-of-centre viewpoint I’d developed over my life.
What I have noticed very clearly, more since the COVID pandemic, is how being bombarded by this doom-scrolling and incessant algorithmically-generated, politically-motivated, self-serving content has impacted me personally. My mental health and wellbeing has suffered.
Recently I’ve finally taken the step back my sanity needed. Closed down my account on X (or Twitter for us OGs) and I’m more conscious about how much energy I give the world beyond my family and friends and the work I love doing.
In the 2024 election, Vice President Harris’s mantra was “We’re not going back” but that saddens me a little. I want to. I want to go back to September 1999.
Not because it was just 2 months after I got married, but because that’s when The West Wing first aired in the U.S. Granted I didn’t first watch it until about 15 years later, but still!
I long for the days when I wanted The West Wing to be more documentary than fiction. The time when that optimism and desire to do the right thing was shared by all.
Romantic? Sure. Unrealistic? Perhaps. Beautifully crafted? Definitely!
Given all that’s going on in the world right now, in the aftermath of the 2024 American election the whole world will soon feel the ramifications of, I wanted to write a eulogy (of sorts) for The West Wing. I am a eulogy writer after all!
For those who loved it the first time, for those who miss its optimistic, hopeful message and for those who have switched off from the current vindictive, hate-filled political climate that we have created, no matter where you live. This is for you.
If you’ve never seen it, then, and I’ve always wanted to write this in a proper context, but ‘Spoiler Alert!’
To those, like me, who see the craziness of all that’s currently happening in real-time with a sense of terror and disbelief, and particularly for those who hear the term “what’s next?” as a foreboding existential crisis. I’m here to tell you, it didn’t used to be this way.
Dearly beloved,
Today we gather not in the hallowed halls of The West Wing, but in this digital space where nostalgia reigns supreme and the glow of idealism can still be summoned at will from a streaming service of your choice.
We come together to bid a fond, if belated, farewell to The West Wing, that remarkable television program which once made the words “What’s next?” ring with hope rather than dread.
The story of The West Wing is one of ambition, brilliance and a slow fading into the familiar darkness of mediocrity - a tale as old as time, and perhaps, as poignant as a soliloquy from Toby Ziegler himself.
An age before Twitter, Truth Social and YouTube. A time before ‘alternative facts’, NewsMax, Tucker Carlson and that time a certain President of the USA told us to inject bleach to cure COVID, live on national TV.
For now, let us walk through the corridors of memory, revisiting some of the show’s finest moments (according to me), paying tribute to its cast of characters who straddled fiction and reality effortlessly, and contemplate how our current political landscape might benefit from a touch of its old-fashioned grace.
In the Beginning, There Was Sorkin
At its inception in 1999, The West Wing was a revelation. Aaron Sorkin, the ever-loquacious scribe whose scripts could make one breathless even when read silently, penned dialogue that soared like the rhetoric of the best speeches and cut like the sharpest political satire.
Under his stewardship, The West Wing wasn’t just a show; it was an ode to the nobility of public service, an ode often delivered at breakneck speed as characters walked purposefully through the halls of power. I do like a good ode.
Before we get too much into the weeds, we must pause here to honour ‘the walk and talk’, the sacred dance of Sorkinian dialogue - half-marathon, half-debate, where the stakes were always high and the quips always quick.
This, perhaps more than anything, was the language of hope: a place where public servants, flawed but fundamentally earnest, believed in doing the right thing simply because it was the right thing, whilst also getting their steps in for the day.
While Aaron Sorkin’s genius often took centre stage, The West Wing was also shaped by an accomplished team of writers and producers who helped refine and extend his vision.
Thomas Schlamme, the show's executive producer and frequent director, was instrumental in establishing the iconic aforementioned ‘walk and talk’ scenes that became a hallmark of the series, adding a certain kinetic energy to the show’s dialogue-heavy scripts.
After Sorkin’s departure following the fourth season, John Wells, at the time known mainly for his work on ER, stepped in as showrunner.
Under Wells’ leadership, in its later years the show shifted toward more grounded and sometimes darker narratives, reflecting the realities of political life with less of the idealistic sheen that defined Sorkin’s era, but more on that later.
Writers such as Eli Attie, who brought his experience as a former speechwriter for Al Gore, contributed authenticity and sharp political insight, ensuring that the series remained compelling and relevant.
These talented individuals, along with a dedicated team of editors and production staff, and who could forget the brilliantly named W.G. Snuffy Walden’s theme tune and score, helped transform Sorkin’s rapid-fire scripts into a show that resonated deeply with audiences and sustained its legacy long after its final episode.
For all its plaudits, both at the time and subsequently, Sorkin’s writing was not without its critics. Even its most ardent fans (like me) shouldn't be overly complimentary.
While Aaron Sorkin’s writing was (and still is) renowned for its wit and rapid-fire dialogue, it wasn’t without its flaws.
If we’re being honest, even the most passionate Sorkin fan would agree that the dialogue, although brilliant, could veer into monologues at times that, while captivating, occasionally strained believability by making every character sound like a philosopher or a stand-up comedian.
It’s often pointed out the improbability of everyone in the White House being that articulate, that quick with a comeback, that unfailingly committed to high ideals.
Not unlike a certain Mr Tarantino, who also gives all his characters a similar penchant for snappy comebacks.
One of the most notable critiques was the disappearance of certain characters, most infamously Mandy Hampton (played by Moira Kelly), who vanished without explanation after the first season. Just gone. Literally. Never to be seen, or mentioned again, without even a throwaway line about what happened to her.
A similar fate awaited later characters like Ainsley Hayes, Joe Quincy, Angela Blake and others. Not always major characters, but definitely part of the team. Here today. Gone tomorrow. Something Ron Butterfield should have probably looked at.
Some might say Mandy's abrupt exit was emblematic of Sorkin’s tendency to sideline or drop storylines that no longer fit his creative vision, sometimes leaving narrative threads unresolved.
Storylines like Josh’s PTSD, Sam’s exit to pursue a seat in Congress or Leo’s relationship with Jorden Kendal were all storylines left dangling to fray in silence without a satisfying resolution or any resolution at all for that matter.
These quirks, however, were often forgiven due to the quality and ambition of the storytelling overall.
And yet, this exaggeration of reality was part of the show’s charm. It’s why I, and many others, fell in love with it.
It wasn’t a documentary, as much as we wish it was, it was an aspirational portrait of what politics could and perhaps should be.
It dared us to imagine a world where the smartest person in the room was also the most ethical, and where a debate could be won not by the loudest voice or the most viral social media post, but by the most reasoned argument.
I miss those days, don’t you?
The West Wing Cast: Noble Stewards of the Republic of Fiction
"We're for freedom of speech everywhere. We're for freedom to worship everywhere. We're for freedom to learn... for everybody".
At the heart of this fictional administration stood President Josiah ‘Jed’ Bartlet, played with a mix of gravitas and warmth by the wonderful Martin Sheen.
President Bartlet was not just a president; he was the president. The kind we wish we could conjure when things are teetering on the edge. He was the anti-Trump.
A Nobel laureate in economics (which, btw, isn’t a thing - technically it’s the Sveriges Riksbank Prize in Economic Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel - but I digress) with an irrepressible spirit of intellectual curiosity, he wasn’t without his flaws - and wasn’t that the point?
Bartlet was, after all, human. But he was a human who wielded power with empathy and wielded sarcasm like a well-loved fountain pen.
President Bartlet was at once a scholar, a father and a leader whose moral compass, while not unerring, was steadfast.
He wrestled with his Catholic faith, navigated the murky waters of international diplomacy and battled both external enemies and his own debilitating illness, multiple sclerosis.
Each challenge added layers to a character who, in lesser hands, might have seemed almost too perfect to be true. But Sheen’s portrayal reminded us that true leadership isn’t about infallibility; it’s about how one confronts their flaws.
“A Two-Ton Block of Cheese”
Beside him stood Leo McGarry, Chief of Staff and the anchor to Bartlet’s tempest.
The late, great John Spencer imbued Leo with a stoic, fatherly wisdom that seemed to whisper ‘courage’ in the face of even the most insurmountable crises.
Leo was a man whose battles with personal demons - alcoholism, divorce and the relentless pressures of public life - made him all the more compelling.
His backstory was a sombre reminder that even those who project unshakable strength carry private burdens.
Leo’s friendship with President Bartlet, marked by loyalty and occasional fiery arguments, exemplified what true political partnership could look like; mutual respect, fierce honesty and an unwavering commitment to a common cause.
"It's The Fall That's Gonna Kill You!"
The press secretary, C.J. Cregg, played brilliantly by Allison Janney, was not just a woman holding her own in a male-dominated space; she was a force of nature, armed with wit as sharp as her stilettos.
C.J. embodied the duality of strength and vulnerability - she could field the toughest questions from the press with seamless poise and, in quieter moments, reveal the emotional cost of being at the forefront of public scrutiny.
Her speeches (and occasional dance routine) made us believe that diplomacy could be both fierce and funny and that sometimes a well-placed ‘The Jackal’ performance was just what the situation called for.
It was C.J. who taught us that leadership wasn’t confined to the Oval Office; it was alive in every room where a dedicated soul stood firm.
“Sir. I Need You to Dig in Now. It Wasn't a Nightmare. You Really are the President.'“
Among the bustling halls of the Bartlet White House stood Charlie Young, played with quiet strength by Dulé Hill.
Introduced as the young personal aide to President Bartlet, Charlie represented a unique and inspiring narrative.
His character, a young man who had lost his mother in the line of duty as a police officer, was a testament to resilience and ambition.
Charlie’s story was that of a young Black man navigating the demanding world of politics while carrying the weight of personal tragedy with grace and humility.
His unwavering loyalty to the President and his warm yet often understated relationships with other staff members brought a humanity to the show that resonated deeply.
From his respectful sparring with the sharp-tongued Toby to his romantic arc with the President’s youngest daughter Zoey, Charlie embodied a hopefulness that transcended the often cynical backdrop of political life.
His presence reminded viewers that even in a sphere dominated by power plays, decency and dedication could carve a path forward.
“What In God’s Name Is Happening Right Now?”
Josh Lyman, played by Bradley Whitford, was the relentless deputy chief of staff whose unbridled passion sometimes ran ahead of his tact.
As likeable and clearly knowledgeable as Josh was, he was a man of contradictions: arrogant yet insecure, brilliant yet sometimes myopic. His dedication to the cause was such that he would often go too far, pushing past the point of reason, only to be pulled back by those around him.
Yet even in his most exasperating moments, we knew he was fueled by a desire to protect the ideals of democracy, even if it meant occasional tilting at windmills.
And who could forget Donnatella Moss, played brilliantly by Janel Moloney, his loyal assistant with her unmatched blend of charm, wit and the ability to disarm Josh with a single well-timed comment?
Their dynamic, rich with unspoken affection and biting banter, was a testament to the complexity of relationships forged under the weight of duty.
"I'm Told That, On My Sunniest Days, I'm Not That Fun To Be Around."
Toby Ziegler, the White House Communications Director portrayed by Richard Schiff, was the show’s brooding conscience.
He wrote speeches with the kind of poetic flair that suggested each syllable was plucked from a deeply personal place.
His cynicism was not mere disillusionment; it was the protective armour of someone who knew how fleeting and fragile idealism could be.
Toby’s greatest moments were often in solitude: standing in the shadowed halls, wrestling with words that had the power to move nations.
He was a craftsman whose tools were sentences, and each speech he wrote felt like an act of quiet rebellion against apathy (or torpor). If you know, you know.
“I Can’t Unleash My Full Potential In A 2-Page Summary”
And let us not overlook Rob Lowe’s Sam Seaborn, the idealistic Deputy Communications Director who once earnestly claimed: “Education is the silver bullet.”
Sam was the eternal optimist, the one who believed that the right words could change the world, even if reality often smirked in response.
I think, as a writer myself, that’s why he was my favourite character and a great miss when he left halfway through the show.
His almost naive faith in the transformative power of government was a reminder of why so many people are drawn to public service in the first place.
He was, in essence, the youthful heart of the administration; the one who still believed that policy papers and well-crafted oratory could turn the tide.
The Unseen Pillars of The West Wing
Whilst many of the top-line cast get all the plaudits. I believe one of the most under-appreciated aspects of the cast are those secondary characters, all played by incredible actors.
While President Bartlet, Leo and the rest of the senior staff commanded the spotlight, The West Wing thrived because of its rich ensemble of supporting characters who brought warmth and depth to the show’s bustling world.
My personal favourite of this troupe was Margaret Hooper, Leo’s eccentric yet fiercely competent assistant, played by NiCole Robinson, who added a touch of whimsy with her peculiar observations and deadpan humour.
Her moments, often fleeting, were a delightful reminder that even the most buttoned-up environments had their quirks.
Then there was the unforgettable Mrs. Dolores Landingham, the President’s wise and sharp-tongued secretary, portrayed by Kathryn Joosten.
Mrs. Landingham’s death in season two was a gut-wrenching moment that reverberated throughout the show and showcased Martin Sheen’s acting in the incredible ‘Two Cathedrals’ episode.
Her character symbolised unwavering loyalty and maternal guidance, proving that even in the seat of power, everyone needs a voice of reason and a touch of kindness.
Ed and Larry, played by Peter James Smith and William Duffy respectively, in case you didn’t know, were the ever-present yet often overlooked duo who rounded out the senior staff’s operations.
Their consistent presence offered a sense of continuity and reliability, reminding viewers that behind every major decision was a network of dedicated, unsung heroes.
Ainsley Hayes, played by Emily Procter, brought an unexpected and refreshing dynamic to the show in Series 2 as a Republican lawyer hired by the Democratic Bartlet administration. Can you imagine that these days?
Her sharp intellect and unwavering belief in her principles challenged the liberal orthodoxy of the senior staff, demonstrating that meaningful dialogue could exist across ideological divides.
Something that feels like a distant memory of what the Republican party used to stand for before its right-wing, MAGA revamp.
Ainsley’s presence injected the series with much-needed nuance and showcased that integrity could be found on both sides of the aisle.
I Recognise Him! The Memorable Guest Stars
Beyond the core cast, The West Wing boasted an impressive array of guest stars whose contributions may have faded from memory but added significant texture to the show.
John Goodman’s portrayal of Speaker of the House Glen Allen Walken was a standout, embodying a stern, no-nonsense interim president who held the nation together during Bartlet’s temporary resignation in season 5.
Our late ‘Friend’ Matthew Perry surprised audiences with a recurring role as Joe Quincy, a Republican lawyer whose sharp mind and moral compass earned him begrudging respect from his Democratic colleagues.
Incidentally, Matthew and Bradley later rekindled their working relationship when they headlined the chronically overlooked Sorkin vehicle, Studio 60 on Sunset Strip, which only lasted 1 series, sorry season!
Other notable appearances included Marlee Matlin as pollster Joey Lucas, who brought both wit and representation as a fiercely capable strategist who communicated through ASL (American Sign Language).
And who could forget Glenn Close’s powerful turn as Chief Justice Evelyn Baker Lang, presiding over a constitutional crisis with the poise and steel of a jurist unwilling to be swayed by politics?
Even comedic guest stars found their way into the West Wing: Sorkin player Timothy Busfield played Danny Concannon, the persistent journalist whose courtship of C.J. was as endearing as it was complex, underscoring the uneasy relationship between the press and the administration.
Mark Harmon’s brief yet poignant appearance as Secret Service agent Simon Donovan brought a heartbreaking gravity that left fans stunned when his storyline concluded in tragedy.
Each of these figures, whether in a single episode or an arc that spanned seasons, enriched The West Wing and reminded the audience that behind the headline-worthy political battles were individuals; complex, talented and driven by their own stories.
The Dimmed Glow: Post-Sorkin Decline
or “Post Hoc Ergo Procter Hoc”
Alas, like Camelot, this golden age was not to last.
After four seasons, Aaron Sorkin departed, and with him, so did the shimmering idealism that had marked the show’s peak.
The reasons for his departure are well-documented online but a mixture of creative differences, personal struggles and the toll of maintaining such a high standard week after week.
But whatever the cause, the result was a palpable shift in tone.
Don’t get me wrong, seasons five through seven, under different showrunners, were still good, but they were seldom great. Although The Supremes (S5, Eps. 17) was a personal highlight.
As you might expect, with the new guard, the pacing changed, the walk-and-talks were less electric, and even the characters occasionally seemed like mere shadows of their former selves.
The dialogue, once a torrent of cleverness, was now a steady stream of competence. The sport was the same, the baton had been passed, but the race had slowed.
The new showrunners introduced storylines that were certainly more grounded in political realism, focusing on the intricacies of legislative battles, campaign strategies and compromises that felt more pragmatic than heroic.
This may have echoed the real-life changing political and societal climates at the time reflecting the rise of the internet, the burgeoning 24-hour news channels and the growth of social media.
There was an effort to reflect this changing landscape and while some of these choices added depth, they also highlighted what had been lost: the show’s almost utopian belief in the power of pure intellect and moral clarity.
The magic of moments like the aforementioned President Bartlet’s ‘Two Cathedrals’ (S2, Eps. 22) speech, delivered in a storm both literal and spiritual, became a rarer commodity.
And yet, even in its diminished state, The West Wing retained a dignity that many political dramas could only aspire to.
The final seasons grappled more overtly with the realities of modern campaigning and the machinations of power. The core cast we grew to love either left or were more splintered than ever.
They introduced new faces, like Matt Santos (played by LA Law alumni Jimmy Smits), who provided a fresh, albeit more pragmatic, glimpse into the future.
The campaign between Santos and Arnold Vinick (played by Alan Alda) offered some of the most compelling episodes of the later seasons, showcasing debates that felt grounded and timely.
But the show’s essence - a belief in the resilience of American democracy - remained.
What Would Bartlet Do?
In today’s political landscape, where shouting and lies often substitute for debate and cynicism parades as wisdom, one cannot help but ask: What would Bartlet do? Or rather, what would Aaron Sorkin’s Bartlet do?
Would he deliver a soaring monologue on the need for bipartisan decency?
Would C.J. scold the press corps with an elegant takedown of political theatre?
Would Toby, tired and hoarse, pen a speech that called for a return to reason?
The West Wing was never perfect and sure, it occasionally veered into the realm of sanctimony but it offered a template of discourse infused with respect, intellect and the radical notion that governance could be about something more than self-interest.
In this time when real-world politics often feels like a continuous barrage of power and plays devoid of statesmanship, the show’s legacy looms large over those who embraced it.
A Final Salute: A Reflection for Our Times
And so, as we lay The West Wing to rest in the pantheon of once-great television shows, let us not forget the lessons it sought to teach.
That debate, when conducted with respect and open minds, can be a force for good. That public service is a noble calling. And that hope, while fragile, is worth nurturing.
In these current times, when political discourse feels more like a shouting match than a conversation, one cannot help but long for the hopeful vision offered by The West Wing.
What if today’s leaders around the world approached governance with the same mix of humility, wit and genuine regard for the greater good?
What if leaders genuinely wanted to unite, rather than divide us?
What if we didn’t let them do it so easily?
What if we replaced relentless cynicism with cautious optimism, if only for an hour?
So, dear West Wing, I bid you goodbye. You were flawed, occasionally self-righteous, but more often than not, you were a beacon.
There again, as I prepare tonight’s meal for the family, iPad in hand, you still are.
You may have stumbled in your later years, but your finest hours continue to inspire those who dream of a better, kinder world.
Rest in peace - and in syndication - and as we leave here today, let us carry forward that simple, enduring question.
The question this time is not from President Bartlet, but from Josh, as he wakes from a coma in SERIES 2, Episode 2 after we’d all been through a shocking incident that struck at the very heart of American democracy.
He woke up with some of that fragile hope and dignity and honourably whispered, “What’s next?”
Thanks for taking the time to walk down Memory Lane with me, who knew it led to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue? If you’re a fan of The West Wing, let me know your favourite characters, quotes or episodes in the comments and let’s reminisce together!
If you like my writing, please consider giving this post a ‘Like’ or even a ‘Subscription’ to keep up-to-date with my Substack. It only takes a second and it’s free!
Incidentally, if you were a fan of The West Wing, then, if you haven’t already, be sure to check out The West Wing Weekly Podcast as Joshua Malina (aka Will Bailey) and Hrishikesh Hirway go through each episode. It’s a fantastic listen and a great way to relive the show (I even have the poster on my office wall!)
Finally, I publish, new albeit, shorter posts more specifically about writing eulogies on my website if you’re interested in that!