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Jewish World Review Oct. 16, 2000 / 17 Tishrei, 5761
Philip Terzian
In the presidential campaign, for instance, voters claim they want the candidates to
discuss "issues," and to be specific about it. But when asked to define those issues, their
answers fall into two predictable categories: They repeat those issues the pollster suggests,
or they talk about issues pertaining solely to themselves. John Kennedy's famous phrase has
been turned on its head: They ask not what they can do for their country, but what their
country can do for them.
Beyond that, they are evidently bored by issues, especially specifics, and are interested,
instead, in tone and atmospherics. The presidential debates are a case in point. I have watched
the first two, and am amused to note that Al Gore, who was supposed to sweep the floor with
George W. Bush, now finds himself an object of pity and derision. But of greater interest are
those groups of "undecided" voters, assembled by the networks, who are poked and prodded for
visceral responses.
At this juncture, the whole notion of undecided voters is difficult to comprehend. The
presidential campaign has been on for over a year, and we know more about the biographical
details and policy positions of George W. Bush and Al Gore than is necessary. Yes, they concur
on certain broad principles -- as who doesn't? -- but on a host of basic subjects they strongly
disagree. And yet these focus groups are barely able to focus. Some of them profess to hear
things they like, some find distinctions between thetwo candidates, a few suggest an issue; but
most are clearly searching for something they won't find. Empathy, perhaps, or a presidential
pledge to pay off their mortgage.
That is why the debates have been bad news for Al Gore. If you look at the history of
presidential debating, you will find that the winners did not succeed on points, but on
political irrelevancies. Kennedy and Richard Nixon were in general agreement on most subjects
-- Nixon was the number-two Eisenhower Republican (behind Ike) and Kennedy was a cold war
liberal -- but viewers didn't clamor to JFK on issues. They liked his crisp good looks, and
television presence, in contrast to Nixon's five o'clock shadow. What did Jimmy Carter say in
1980 that prompted Ronald Reagan's famous rejoinder? Nobody remembers, but everyone recalls
that the affable Reagan seemed more, well, comfortable than the stone-faced Carter. George Bush
lost his presidency in 1992, we are told, because he glanced at his watch while listening to H.
Ross Perot bark and chatter.
What makes all this poignant for Gore is that he is a victim of his prowess. Before the
first debate, it was widely acknowledged that debating was Gore's strong point, that Bush is
the weaker intellect, and that their televised encounter was bound to be a cakewalk for the
well-briefed Vice President. But instead of graciously undermining his opponent, Gore went
after Bush in his worst bullying manner -- and Bush, to Gore's surprise, more than held his
own. If the debate had been scored by coaches, Gore might have prevailed; but Bush won because
Gore was so personally offensive.
Which left poor Gore two untenable alternatives. If he persisted in his rude, condescending
manner, he would exceed the loutish know-it-all portrayed on "Saturday Night Live," remind
voters why they have never embraced him -- and keep on losing ground. But if he altered his
smothering manner (as he did) that would give Bush a strategic opportunity. And that's what
happened. In the second debate, Gore was viibly, sometimes excruciatingly, restrained, while
Bush appeared relaxed, knowledgeable and conversant. And since Bush's personality is more
appealing to voters, he beat Gore on points as well as atmospherics.
Is this any way to choose a president? Early in the 20th century the British political
scientist Graham Wallis wrote a slim volume called (ital) Human Nature in Politics (unital) in
which he discussed the random, sometimes irrational, factors that impel people to vote as they
do. Times have not changed. Voters and journalists claim that they want to hear about issues --
and don't forget specifics -- and complain when the issues aren't explored in close detail. But
when, in response, the issues and speeches and papers descend, they profess to be bored, or
claim to be looking for qualities in candidates they might otherwise apply to pets or potential
spouses.
They may be telling pollsters they are concerned about the environment, or the high cost of
Viagra; but in a therapeutic age, what they really want is to feel good -- about themselves and
the country -- and find a candidate who puts them in the proper mood to
10/12/00: Now comes the hard part
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