Count on it
The Bush-Gore squeaker was the
inevitable result of
an artificial, manufactured contest, passively covered
by a media too lazy to challenge it
by Dan Kennedy
The front page of Wednesday's New York Post -- screaming BUSH WINS! --
made for a classic DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN moment. But on the set of MSNBC, no one
was gloating. Brian Williams seemed to show it more as an anthropological
curiosity than anything else. And guest-of-the-moment Tom Squitieri, of USA
Today, revealed that the only reason his paper hadn't committed a similar
boner was that it hadn't had a chance to redo page one during the 90-minute
window when it seemed for all the world that George W. Bush was the
president-elect.
The Post changed its later editions to read GORE WON'T CONCEDE. Like he
should have? As I prepare to file this, at about 8 a.m. on Wednesday, Al Gore
has apparently won the popular vote by about 220,000 -- roughly double John
Kennedy's razor-thin margin in 1960. And Gore may be behind in Florida only
because of a ballot screw-up in Palm Beach County, whereby wanna-be Gore
supporters voted for Pat Buchanan by mistake.
As became apparent by mid-morning, the Post was hardly the only paper to
declare Bush the winner. The Boston Globe shipped some 22,000 copies of
an edition headlined IT'S BUSH IN A TIGHT ONE before pulling back 16,000 and
rushing out a revised edition, according to spokesman Rick Gulla; the Boston
Herald reportedly ran into a similar problem, but no details were available
at press time. Nationally, the Poynter Institute's MediaNews.org was reporting
that a number of other papers had done the same thing, including the St.
Louis Post-Dispatch, the Austin American-Statesman, and the San
Francisco Chronicle. But it really doesn't matter. Because the print press
was only memorializing what every television network was proclaiming between
2:28 and 3:50 a.m.: that George W. Bush was the president-elect. Bush believed
it. Gore believed it, and was even ready to concede until Bush's Florida lead
all but evaporated.
The irony of this incredibly dramatic night and morning was that it was just
about the only time during this endless campaign that the media have been more
than passive observers -- and they messed up, big-time. These were, after all,
the media's exit polls and projections that everyone was using. No doubt it's a
difficult, uncertain science. But instant critics such as Bill Bennett, Karl
Rove, and George W. himself had a point when they complained that it's better
to get such things right than to get them first. At least some of the pundits
seemed suitably chastened, with Tom Brokaw in particular telling his viewers
that the media would clearly have to rethink their role.
ODDLY ENOUGH, the networks' fuzzy math was just about the only interesting
aspect of the election-night and next-day coverage. Oh, the drama of it all was
exciting, all right. But it was a rather laid-back excitement, as the pundits,
usually aggressive to the brink of physical violence, were reduced to
exclaiming that, boy, it sure is close. There was, after all, no debate to pick
apart. No actual candidates to banter with -- a regular, mucho entertaining
feature of the presidential primaries (especially when said candidates are
exotica such as Steve Forbes or Alan Keyes). There was, instead, the steady
drumbeat of numbers, flashing on computerized screens or -- on NBC -- scrawled
illegibly on a white board with a red magic marker by Tim Russert.
In a sense, though, the media's constricted role was a metaphor for their
performance in the entire campaign. The Democratic and Republican
establishments designed a nominating process aimed at getting exactly what they
wanted: comfortable, predictable, centrist candidates, the sort of people who
could raise the tons of money needed to compete in an early, insanely
foreshortened primary season. No George McGoverns or Jimmy Carters, thank you
very much. From the moment the midterm election results were counted in
November 1998, the party elders decided they wanted a nice, safe Gore-Bush
race. And, despite a few weeks of excitement courtesy of John McCain and Bill
Bradley, that's exactly what they got. The public's role was to sit back and
take it; the media's, to focus on ephemera (Bush's brainpower or lack thereof,
Gore's propensity to exaggerate), campaign strategy, or -- when they went into
eat-your-spinach mode -- mind-numbing explications of the candidates'
differences on prescription-drug benefits for the elderly.
Tom Patterson, director of the Vanishing Voter Project at Harvard's Kennedy
School, spent more than a year tracking voter interest in the campaign -- only
to conclude that the voters had little to do with it. In an op-ed piece in the
New York Times on Wednesday, Patterson wrote that the project's polling
revealed most voters think presidential campaigns start too early and last too
long. And they're right, Patterson argued, writing that "the financial and
organizational advantages of George W. Bush and Al Gore enabled them to
eliminate their opponents before voters in more than 30 states had even had a
chance to cast a ballot. No wonder 74 percent of Americans concluded at that
time that party leaders and large contributors have a larger voice than the
voters in the election of the nominees."
The media should focus considerable attention on the systemic failures
documented by Patterson. Unfortunately, mainstream journalism, motivated by
convention and sloth, is far better equipped to cover the charges and
countercharges of the campaign trail than it is to bring sustained attention to
bear on the way we select and elect presidents.
RALPH NADER -- to many progressives, the embodiment of an alternative to the
manufactured Gore-Bush race -- turned out to be a spectacular failure on two
entirely different levels. He fell way short of the five percent he needed for
the Green Party to qualify for federal matching funds. Yet because the main
event was so close, the few votes Nader did receive were enough to do serious
damage to Gore, presumably the second choice of most Nader voters. Indeed,
Nader's Florida vote greatly exceeded Bush's tenuous margin, meaning Nader
might have cost Gore the election right there.
To the extent that Nader thrived, he did so by exploiting the fiction that
there is little difference between the two major parties. While it's true that
the ideological fires of earlier eras have largely burned themselves out, the
Democrats remain, broadly speaking, the liberal party, and the Republicans
remain the conservative party. In almost every conceivable way -- on tax
fairness, gun control, the environment, reproductive choice, gay rights, health
care, and more -- the Democrats hold positions that are infinitely more
progressive than those of the Republicans.
Certainly most Americans figured that out on Tuesday. According to exit-poll
numbers posted on CNN.com, Democrats supported Gore by 86 percent to 11
percent, and Republicans were with Bush by 91 percent to eight percent.
African-Americans supported Gore by 90 percent to eight percent; lesbians and
gay men were with Gore by 71 percent to 24 percent; voters earning less than
$50,000 were with Gore, and those earning more than that were with Bush. In
other words, engaged voters understood the differences between the two parties
and voted accordingly. As David Broder wrote in the Washington Post on
Wednesday, "It was as if two different nations went to vote yesterday -- men
vs. women, big cities vs. small towns, large states vs. small, splitting their
votes between Republicans and Democrats so evenly that the government of their
one country, the most powerful nation in the world, hung in the balance."
But it was a cliffhanger not because of these committed voters, but because of
the independents -- those uninterested, undecided-until-the-last-minute voters
who don't want to hear a blatant party appeal, and to whom Gore and Bush both
narrowly targeted much of their campaign. (See "Gridlock and Its Discontents,"
page 1.)
To be sure, there was much that was beyond Gore's control. The exit polls
showed that 60 percent of voters dislike Bill Clinton as a person, and 20
percent said their vote was intended at least in part as a slap at Clinton.
Focus groups of undecided voters also showed that Gore was punished for being
too aggressive in his debates against Bush, even though Bush came off as
uninformed and defensive in two of their three encounters. Independents on
Tuesday supported Bush by 47 percent to 45 percent (and they were the only
group to give him some meaningful numbers, with six percent). Go figure.
BUT, ULTIMATELY, the race was Gore's to lose, and -- pending the Florida
recount -- that's exactly what he may have done. I don't think it's his
smartest-boy-in-the-class syndrome, cited by so many pundits, although that's
part of it. Mainly, it's his overweening ambition, the sense that there is
nothing he wouldn't say or do or promise in order to win. Witness a horrifying
AP photo, posted on Salon, of him trying to re-enact The Kiss outside a
Tennessee voting booth. Tipper seems natural enough; but Gore, open-mouthed and
slack-jawed, looks like he can't decide whether to slobber all over her or bite
her. A slicker politician, like the master, Bill Clinton, would know that
lightning only strikes once, and therefore each kiss brings with it diminishing
returns.
The trouble is, Gore's calculated moments invariably come off as over-scripted,
and thus always telegraph their grasping, politically motivated intent. That's
why his lies about himself have been so much more politically damaging than
Bush's much worse lies about his own record and his proposals. Although Bush's
alleged likableness escapes me, I have no problem understanding why many people
don't like Gore. As Joe Klein put it in the New Yorker last week: "There
is a sad, graceless desperation to Al Gore, a quality that has slowly, almost
subliminally been communicated to the electorate in the course of the campaign
-- and this is the real reason, I suspect, that he has suffered at the
polls."
Who knows? Maybe, despite all his faults and his Clintonian baggage and his
pandering, Gore will still wind up as president. The fact remains, however,
that it never should have been this hard. Running on a record of peace and
prosperity, against an opponent who thinks "misunderestimated" is a word, Gore
now finds his political future hanging by a thin thread.
Al Gore, who couldn't make voters like him, isn't going to change if he becomes
president -- especially since, if he does win, it will be by one of the
narrowest margins ever. The essence of the modern presidency is the ability to
communicate effortlessly, to explain and to exhort and to inspire. Ronald
Reagan had it. Bill Clinton has it. Gore doesn't. That's why, even if Gore
wins, the next four years are going to be so painful.
No, the media didn't get it right on Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. But
those errors pale when compared with their performance over the past two years.
By covering the Gore-Bush race as if it were the inevitable result of forces
beyond anyone's control -- rather than a contrivance foisted on the public by
the two major-party establishments -- they failed in some pretty crucial and
fundamental ways.
Dan Kennedy can be reached at dkennedy[a]phx.com.