When it comes to the elite political media, Mark Halperin’s the kind of guy who gets invited to all the cool kids’ parties. ABC News’ “The Note” was his creation; he’s a regular on all the talking heads’ shows, and earlier this year, Halperin became the editor at large and senior political analyst for Time magazine. If David Broder is the Dean, Mark Halperin has to be a leading contender for Vice Dean.
So when Halperin pens an op-ed for the NYT on the fundamental problem with the way reporters cover a presidential campaign, it stands to reason that it’ll be an important piece.
The premise is easy enough to grasp: most media coverage of a presidential campaign is predicated on the notion that candidates should be “evaluated by their ability to survive the grueling quadrennial coast-to-coast test of endurance required to win the office.” What does this have to do with the kind of president a candidate might become? Not much, which is precisely the problem.
Our political and media culture reflects and drives an obsession with who is going to win, rather than who should win.
For most of my time covering presidential elections, I shared the view that there was a direct correlation between the skills needed to be a great candidate and a great president. The chaotic and demanding requirements of running for president, I felt, were a perfect test for the toughest job in the world.
But now I think I was wrong. The “campaigner equals leader” formula that inspired me and so many others in the news media is flawed.
OK, so Halperin seems to now realize that there’s more to a presidential campaign than a horserace. This is … painfully obvious to anyone who’s followed any recent presidential campaign. Halperin has stumbled onto a problem that’s been documented repeatedly for a couple of decades.
I’m not annoyed by Halperin’s conclusion, so much as I’m baffled by what took him so long. Today he storms through an open door.
Worse, he’s sloppy about it. To bolster his already-tired thesis, Halperin points to Bill Clinton and George W. Bush as examples.
Our two most recent presidents, both of whom I covered while they were governors seeking the White House. Bill Clinton and George W. Bush are wildly talented politicians. Both claimed two presidential victories, in all four cases arguably as underdogs.
I don’t think that’s right at all. In 1996, Clinton was the heavy favorite all year, and several credible Republican challengers skipped the race because they didn’t want to lose. Bob Dole never led, and was never considered the favorite. Likewise, in 2004, Bush was vulnerable, but like Clinton in ’96, he led from wire to wire. To call him an “underdog” seems misguided.
But their success came not because they convinced the news media (and much of the public) that they would be the best president, but because they dominated the campaign narrative that portrayed them as the best candidate in a world-class political competition. In the end, both men were better presidential candidates than they were presidents.
Again, this may reflect the view of the media elite, but Clinton was a very successful president. As Robert Farley explained quite nicely, “I know we all know this, but it bears repeating; Bill Clinton was a remarkably popular President, and his term in office bears no meaningful resemblance to that of his successor, except in the minds of elite journalists. Clinton irritated the Village by getting a blowjob; Bush irritated the world by blowing up a country. Tragic flaws, indeed.”
When George W. Bush ran in 2000, many voters liked his straightforward, uncomplicated mean-what-I-say-and-say-what-I-mean certainty. He came across as a man of principle who did not lust for the White House; he was surrounded by disciplined loyalists who created a cheerful cult of personality about their candidate.
Actually, that was the approach embraced by lazy political reporters taken in by a weak and manufactured pitch to prop up a scarily unqualified candidate, but media figures who cared more about what Bush said and less about his campaign’s handlers knew better.
In the face of polls and horse-race maneuvering, we can try to keep from getting sucked in by it all. We should examine a candidate’s public record and full life as opposed to his or her campaign performance.
Well, yes, of course reporters should. This, one would like to think, is Journalism 101.
Yglesias concludes, “[W]hatever, if Halperin wants to come over to the side of light, I think we should take him.” That’s fair, I suppose. Factual errors aside, Halperin’s op-ed is something of a mea culpa — he doesn’t literally apologize for years of shallow, vacuous campaign coverage, but he implicitly concedes that he, and most of his colleagues, have been doing it wrong for far too many campaign cycles.
If Halperin wants to help make the process more meaningful and substantive, I suppose the appropriate response it, “It’s about time.”