Paul Waldman had a great item yesterday on a subject that never ceases to amaze me: how political reporters choose to cover the presidential candidates and their campaigns.
Reporters will choose to write about flag pins. They will choose to write about whether some catastrophic, heretofore hidden character flaw has been revealed by a comment a candidate made, or by a comment somebody who knows the candidate made. They are not merely conduits for the campaign’s discourse, they create the campaign’s discourse, as much as the candidates themselves.
Ah, but didn’t Hillary Clinton criticize Barack Obama over his “bitter” comments? Doesn’t that justify a week of relentless, repetitive discussion? Yes, she did (as he has criticized her before on matters equally trivial). But on that day, she probably held half a dozen campaign events and talked about a hundred different things. Had reporters wanted, they could have written stories about what she said about health care, the economy, Iraq, or just about anything else. They chose instead to write about this. The time is long past for them to stop pretending they have nothing to do with how trivial a campaign becomes.
But don’t hold your breath. Political reporters will cling to their long-held conceit that they are but observers whose own choices have no impact on the campaign’s progression. They are a clean, empty pipe through which the impressions and beliefs of the public flow unimpeded. But the act of observing the campaign doesn’t just alter the campaign, it is the campaign. If reporters decide something is an “issue,” than an issue it will be. If they decide to ignore something, it will disappear from the news, and eventually from voters’ minds.
Quite right. And as Ezra added, “On some level, the media gets this — it’s the essential conflict of interest that runs like the San Andreas fault line right through the center of the profession. But because they haven’t figured out a way to it, they by and large refuse to talk about it, because if you talk about it, then it’s real, and you’re both open to the criticism and obligated to figure out a transparent fix.”
Waldman’s column was driven in large part to last week’s Democratic debate on ABC, it’s obvious flaws, and the reaction that ensued. He noted David Brooks’ widely-read quote in defense of the event: “We may not like it, but issues like Jeremiah Wright, flag lapels and the Tuzla airport will be important in the fall.”
They’re important, of course, because Brooks and his colleagues are in a position to decide what’s important. The public has to care, in large part because news outlets are telling them they should.
I can’t remember if I’ve written about this or not, but one of the common defenses of the debate last week was that no political discussion can be solely about policy. People would get bored. In a debate or interview, there has to be at least some combination to keep things moving and lively.
I don’t disagree, but the defense misses the point.
To me, there are two key problems with the media’s emphasis on trivia, mini-controversies, and the buzz of the day. The first is emphasis — I know there’s going to be some interest and coverage of some minor flap or another, but on a daily basis, it’s wildly disproportionate. That was one of the jarring things about last week’s debate — not that there were some questions about the various distractions, but that there were 15 questions about the distractions that constituted the entire first half of the event.
The second is that, too often, the media takes trivia and decides it really isn’t trivia at all. Instead of mindless coverage of some inconsequential flap or gaffe, an outlet or media personality will insist that the flap or gaffe deserves to be elevated into a national controversy, worthy of serious and genuine analysis. So, when Obama bowls a 37, it’s not just a punch-line or the subject of good-natured ribbing, it becomes an excuse to scrutinize Obama’s manliness and his ability to connect with small-town voters. If he orders orange juice at a diner, it’s the same thing. Clinton’s laugh drew similar scrutiny, as did the price of Edwards’ haircuts.
It’s not enough to highlight the sideshow; the media wants people to believe the sideshow is a serious issue. That’s the problem.
“The time is long past for [media figures] to stop pretending they have nothing to do with how trivial a campaign becomes.” It would be nice.