Most Americans have never heard of Grover Norquist, president of Americans for Tax Reform. So someone please explain why an individual never elected to Congress has more power than a couple dozen sitting U.S. lawmakers combined.

Pledge fever has taken hold in Washington. Norquist’s rigid anti-tax oath is the most popular, long-standing and, at this point, most pernicious.

Ninety-five percent of Republican U.S. lawmakers signed Norquist’s pledge, saying they will never raise taxes for any reason, giving away their ability to make a decision, intelligent or otherwise. That means in times of war, national emergency — anything, they will not do what’s right by their country, but rather what is right by Grover Norquist.

Never mind if a debt-ceiling crisis gets completely out of hand or if not breaking the pledge means tanking the U.S. economy.

The reality is we really do need additional federal revenue to go along with more sizable spending cuts. Watching the 200-car pileup in D.C., Standard & Poor’s downgraded the U.S. credit rating, citing dysfunctional policymaking as one reason: “The effectiveness, stability, and predictability of American policymaking and political institutions have weakened at a time of ongoing fiscal and economic challenges.”

It’s not exactly Norquist’s fault. He has a right to ask lawmakers to sign on the dotted line. Blame the legislators who gave him beaucoup power with their fealty to the club. They threw away their right to make thoughtful decisions.

Pledge mania is groupthink run amok. Distrust gone mad. Government by gimmick.

The only oath that should matter is a lawmaker’s pledge to preserve, protect and defend the U.S. Constitution.

Democrats and Republicans alike propose manifestos. There is an anti-abortion pledge, a new anti-tea party politics contract, the pro-Social Security vow. At the moment, Republicans are more obsessed than Democrats with black-and-white absolutes. Only one pledge, the one to Norquist, has crippled the government.

We elect members of Congress to go to Washington, uphold the Constitution, make laws, wheel and deal and negotiate in good faith.

Signing pledges that become more important than thinking on the job is terribly shortsighted.

At the presidential level, only one Republican candidate, former Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman, cried foul on pledges; he says his commitment is to his country and his wife. A ray of light.

Other presidential wannabes are out there signing away. Consider the marriage vow, designed to oppose same-sex marriage. In one iteration, it contained verbiage that said a black child born into slavery was more likely to be raised by two parents than a similar child growing up in the Obama era. Two truly silly candidates, Michele Bachmann and Rick Santorum, affixed their names to the vow.

Pledges are attractive for about a minute. The more you think about it, you wonder: Why hire someone who already gave up the right to make decisions that match time and circumstance?

Politicians who sign pledges toss out flexibility and judgment, and, in the process, make themselves ineffectual while they damage the country they were elected to protect.

Joni Balter is a columnist for the Seattle Times.