hubbub

The Post-Rove Campaign

One of the most fascinating things to watch about the McCain campaign is how closely it is following the pattern of the Clinton campaign earlier this year.  Consider:

--it began with denial -- McCain was saddled with a hapless campaign staff that failed to craft a a compelling story -- and a sustainable strategy -- early enough in the campaign to make a difference.  Remember what they said about Hillary's campaign strategy?

--it quickly turned negative.  But much to everyone's surprise, McCain has not been able to come up with new material (with the possible exception with the ACORN story), relying instead on the set pieces that Hillary's team designed in the Spring (e.g., Ayers).

--going negative didn't work, so McCain got his voice back, but is now focusing both on the positive and the negative.  On the same night that he traded good-natured jokes with Obama, his campaign was busy launching a vicious robocall campaign in key swing states.  Again, shades of the Clinton campaign, in its final weeks.

--as a result of all these twists and turns, McCain looks erratic,  and Obama looks more presidential -- the same situation that Hillary found herself in during the last stretch of the primary.  In the final weeks, she got her voice back.   But it was way too late.

Of course, it's impossible to predict how the voters will go on November 4.  But if there's a lesson we can draw from the journey so far it's that it pays to lead with a positive message -- and defend with the negative, when neccessary -- and stick to it.  After so many election cycles where some of the best political minds and operatives taught the market that going negative is more effective, this is a breath of fresh air.  Depending on the outcome of this election, we may be entering the post Atwater/Rove era of political campaigning -- an era when what you stand for matters more than anything you can say about your opponent.

What Can We Expect from "Son of Rove"?

All eyes are on -- or should be on -- Steve Schmidt, campaign manager for McCain 2008 , as we enter the final weeks of the campaign.  What can we expect?  The campaign has not exactly kept it a secret -- we can expect a dramatic shift in focus away from McCain's own credentials to an all-out attack on Obama's character.  But why the attention on Schmidt?  Well, it might just give voters some perspective on what they're about to see and hear in the coming weeks.  Schmidt is the protege of Karl Rove, perhaps the most accomplished Republican operative in recent generations and the guy who raised the art of fear and surprise to a new level of appreciation, on the left and on the right (almost everyone does it now).  And Rove's mentor was Lee Atwater who kinda started the whole thing (not really), doing for Reagan and Bush Sr. what Rove did for Bush Jr.   With Atwater-Rove-Schmidt, we've got a Republican dynasty of highly effective, character-attacking, negative campaigners, and no one should be surprised to see Obama get Swift-boated or Willie Hortoned in the last few weeks.   For Obama supporters, it would be irresponsible not to expect it and not to prepare for it.

But will it work this time?  To be truly effective, an attack on character needs to surprise the public.  I'm not just talking about the timing of the attack -- few should be surprised to see an attack in the final weeks.   I'm talking about the content of the attack.   Already we have heard that the McCain campaign plans on resurrecting the ghosts of the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, Rezko, and Ayers, all of whom played a significant part in Hillary Clinton's own negative campaign.   Hillary's campaign may have immunized Obama from these particular stories.   To succeed, "son of Rove" and co. may have to come up with something new.   Perhaps they already found it.   Perhaps they are still working at it.  One thing's for sure -- we should expect fear, but we should not be surprised by the surprise.   We are living in a post-Monty Python world.  Everyone should expect the "Spanish Inquisition." 

Sarah Palin's Talking Points: Let's Cry in Shame

For so many reasons, it was painful for me to watch tonight's vice-presidential debate.  I knew it would be painful, for the obvious reasons (e.g., I was concerned about her opponent's performance).  But what was most painful was a surprise:  Palin's performance was an awful reminder of the evil that PR folks do.  It was a semi-skillful application of all the rules that PR folk teach their clients.  Like:

--reframing:  ignore the questions, and answer your own, sticking to the rehearsed talking points

--redirection:  attack the opponent if he cannot fight back (Biden's job was to attack McCain, not Palin)

--punching like a populist:  look straight into the camera, and tell people later that  it was part of your plan to talk directly to them, without the filter of the mainstream media

My surprise was the guilt I felt watching Palin apply these rules as if she were my own client.   But I felt not just the guilt of being part of a profession that teaches people to do things like this.    The greater guilt (or perhaps it was shame, the public cousin of  the more private guilt) was a reminder that the age of "talking points" is coming to a close.   A summary analysis of the smartest political thinking is that the debate -- despite Palin's appeal -- was a draw (though perhaps she won the contest for low expectations).   Just as Obama triumphed over McCain's pugilistic strategy in the first presidential debate, Biden may have survived Palin's wolverine attacks with a little thing called substance.  Of course, we'll have to wait and see what the people think (remember:  punch like a populist).   But in the meantime, I've never been more confident in the ability of the average voter to see through the artifice of my peers.   

Congress Pulls a Putney

It's a good time to be in the persuasion business.   I keep saying that to myself.  And I'm beginning to believe it.

Practically everyone came down on Congress today, criticizing the House for failing to pass a bill that, despite its odor, has a consensus of supporters, on the left and the right.   Strikes me that yesterday's vote rejecting the $700-plus billion bailout -- precipitating a 700-plus point fall in the Dow Jones Industrial average -- was evidence of a massive communications challenge, not an intellectual challenge, as many unenlightened people have charged.  Consider:

--there appears to be a consensus in Congress that the bailout is needed, in some form or another (modifications were within reach)

--still, a majority rejected the bill

--practically everyone seemed surprised yesterday.  Few expected this result.

Reminds me of a film ... again.  Earlier this week, I looked at a couple of films that provide us with ways to examine the actors in the presidential race.    I am now thinking of Putney Swope, the famously bad 60's cult film by Robert Downey (father of Robery Downey Jr.) that opens at a Madison Avenue board meeting where the chief executive drops dead from a heart attack.   The executive team conducts  a secret ballot to select a successor.  No one believes that Putney Swope -- the lone black exec--  has a chance of winning, yet they all vote him him.  Is it their wish, what they actually desire as the outcome?  Who knows, but it's clear that they never believed it would happen.  The rest of this grainy B&W film is played out in hilarious living color (literally -- the outrageous commercials that the new agency creates are all in color -- like Oz -- while the main narrative of the film continues in B&W).  It is certainly not what Putney's peers expected, but it delights Downey's target audience who never liked admen to begin with.  Justice is done.

More and more, we are learning about the limits of our government to deal with complex communication issues.  Here's hoping that "pulling a Putney" makes it into the political comms lexicon.

The McCain Mutiny

In Maureen Dowd's review of the first presidential debate, she draws an interesting comparison to the courtroom fireworks in "A Few Good Men."  Sez Dowd:  the same way that Jack Nicholson's erratic,  volatile temperament provided Tom Cruise with an easy courtroom kill (watch it here),  McCain's erratic, volatile temperament gave Obama an opportunity for an easy debate "knockout punch."  Dowd and others are disappointed that Obama didn't go for the knockout punch -- i.e., that he didn't provoke the old man into saying something dangerous or silly on national TV.

Movie analogies are great -- they give us a fun way to examine what we actually expect from our real-life public heroes. But I would argue that Dowd's choice of movie here -- and choice of screen hero -- betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of the appeal that Obama continues to generate despite his unwillingness -- or inability, as some charge -- to go for the kill.  McCain only slightly resembles the snarling, damaged Jack Nicholson character.  And Obama ... well I think he can do better than Tom Cruise.   He's nothing like the actor or the character in "A Few Good Men," and he has a different, more nuanced, more complex mandate from the American people. 

While reading Dowd this morning, I was reminded of another great courtroom story, "The Caine Mutiny."  In the classic film version of the Herman Wouk book, a World War II navy captain -- Commander Queeg,  played by Humphrey Bogart -- comes apart during the court martial of officers who took control of the captain's ship (the USS Caine, an aging destroyer on its last naval legs) during a difficult storm in the Pacific.  The job of unravelling the captain at trial was left to a Lieutenant Barney Greenwald,  a wicked smart navy attorney played by the great Puerto Rican actor, Jose Ferrer.  Queeg -- like the Nicholson character in "A Few Good Men," and like McCain character  in real life -- has been acting strange lately.  Greenwald detonates Queeg on the witness stand by leading him through a harrowing interrogation that pushes him over the edge and expose his "madness"  (watch it here).   The smart lawyer prevails, and the defendants are acquitted, just as they were in "A Few Good Men."  But the victory in "The Caine Mutiny" increasingly feels hollow toward the end of the film as we become aware that Greenwald was just doing his job, and that he relied heavily on the manipulations of a cunning, deceitful officer on the Caine, who had set the mutiny in motion.   Which makes "The Caine Mutiny" less like "A Few Good Men" and more like "Witness for the Prosecution," another film that examines the ways people can be hurt by the mechanical and corruptible nature of courtroom justice.

There are higher standards, of course.  The Ferrer character -- whose lean, mean, and cool good looks make him a far better Obama than Tom Cruise -- knows better than to claim his courtroom performance as a victory.  And Obama knows better than to publicly destroy a man who, despite all his shortcomings, is a war hero.  There is no honor in leading a McCain Mutiny, relieving a man of his duties simply because he looks old and rattled.  And I suspect the public agrees.   Yes, there was no "knockout punch" at Friday's debate.  Still, a  substantial margin of likely voters think that Obama won the debate. And that, my friend,  is a victory worth claiming.

Why Obama Will Pick Hillary for VP ... And How He Will Frame It

Matt Yglesias -- a really smart guy -- cannot understand why Hillary Clinton would accept the VP half of the Obama ticket.  His argument -- that neither Obama nor Hillary can come to terms -- is persuasive.   But his argument falters on one key assumption:   that Obama is unlikely to give expand the traditional role of the veep to accommodate Hillary's ambitions.   I think Matt is wrong.   

Hillary's strength as a candidate -- at this stage of the game -- suggests that Obama has a serious exposure.  Truth is, Obama may not have a choice but to offer Clinton the job -- which many sources say she is willing to accept -- and to make the job a compelling one. 

This morning, at breakfast, I made a small bet about this with my wife, and here are the key points.  (I wrote this down on a small piece of paper, filing it away in a kitchen cabinet, as a short-term time capsule):

--Obama will offer Hillary Clinton the VP job.

--The job will be an expansive one, beyond what VP's usually do.

--The Obama/Clinton campaign will frame this decision as a deliberate move to unify a diverse, contentious, yet integrated Democratic party.  It is the only way Obama can rationalize hiring an opponent who has done so much to harm him.  More important, it represents an unprecedented branding opportunity for the Democratic Party.  "The DNC -- the conversational party that's not afraid to argue and debate."

--The Obama/Clinton campaign will assert that this was Obama's idea.  It is the only way to position this decision as one based on strength, rather than the candidate's weakness.  And it probably will be his idea.  But whether or not it is, we are going to hear a lot about it.

And the story will fly.  From the beginning, Obama's campaign has been a call for unity.  And no better place to start than with the Democratic Party, which repeatedly has failed to pull itself together to do battle with a party that's better disciplined to adhere to a party line.  That was one of the main themes in George Lakoff's "Don't Think of an Elephant," the UC Berkeley professor's artful diatribe that Democrats really ought to study, if not emulate, the communications prowess of the Republican Party.  If all goes according to plan, Obama will hang with the elephants, but not before herding the jackasses. 

Annals of Communications: Spitzer "Hoisted on His Own Petard"

Annals of Communications -- How Public Officials Communicate, and What Everyone Can Learn From Them

"Hoisted on his own petard" -- that's the favorite line that pundits and bloggers are plying today in their many dissections of the Eliot Spitzer prostitution-ring scandal.  The quote is attributed to Shakespeare -- our timeless interpreter of tragedy -- who, as Johnny once noted, said just about everything. 

But what does the phrase mean?  Simply:  that the weapon you yield (the petard) can be used against you; in other words, "live by the sword, die by the sword," which is one of the oldest, cruellest, but most enduring laws of leadership and communication.  Which is why today's scandal is generating so little sympathy for the Governor of New York -- a public official who rose to fame for rooting out the evil, corrupt, and weak in government -- and creating a "bull market in schadenfreude" in an otherwise dull and depressing day on Wall Street.

But what really caught my attention today was how poorly the  governor and his administration handled the crisis today.   Common wisdom:  when there's a crisis, there are at least three things you must do, and do them quickly:  (1) acknowledge fault, fully and completely; (2) apologize to all the people you have harmed; (3) make amends with the people you have harmed.  While Spitzer's sixty-second press conference today (way too short) touched on all three, the narrative was vague, incomplete, and left too many points unanswered.   Was he apologizing to his family only (big sympathy for them today), or to the people who elected him as well (he said sorry to both, but there was little emphasis on the latter).   Was he making the argument that the personal can really be separated from the political ("I do not believe that politics in the long run is about individuals. It is about ideas, the public good, and doing what is best for the state of New York.")  And what did he mean at the close, when he said "I will report back to you in short order"?  It was an odd note, as if he had just been reprimanded by a commanding officer. I'm hearing that the lawyers helped to write this speech -- Spitzer may be holding onto his job to negotiate a deal with prosecutors -- so we should not be surprised.

Not that it would have helped Spitzer very much to repair his reputation (that will take some time), but the questions that remain are only likely to fuel the darkest (the shade in schadenfreude) speculations from both friends and enemies.  Better to come completely out of the shadows and into the light.  In hard times, half measures don't work.  Unless, of course, it's all over, and the final curtain on your public life is dropping.  I believe Shakespeare said that, too.