Showing posts with label 2016. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2016. Show all posts

Monday, January 18, 2016

Two Weeks to Go Until Iowa Caucuses



I have mentioned here before that I have little faith in polls except for the ones in which actual voters participate on Election Day.

And the first such actual vote will take place two weeks from today in Iowa — where it won't be an actual vote, as in a primary. It will be a caucus, and results from caucuses are less precise than those from primaries.

Until that happens, though, we really won't know if the polls are right or wrong. For now, the polls are all we have, whether the findings turn out to be accurate or not.

Another point about caucuses: Participating in one require more — much more — of a commitment of one's time than merely walking into a voting booth and selecting the candidates for whom one wishes to vote so caucuses are notorious for attracting the diehards, the extremists. Consequently, it would not surprise me if the extreme element among Iowa's Democrats hand a victory to Bernie Sanders.

Earlier in 2015, Sanders was far behind Hillary Clinton in Iowa polls. But that was months before the caucus — and Hillary has had some setbacks — and the latest polls show the race tightening. Just in time for the caucus.

Hillary still leads in the Des Moines Register/Bloomberg poll, but only by two points, 42% to 40% — and that falls within the poll's margin of error.

Sanders leads in the latest Quinnipiac University poll, 49% to 44%.

I guess Hillary can take some solace in the fact that she leads in the latest CBS/New York Times poll, 48% to 41%, although that lead shows some slippage.

For Hillary backers who are nostalgic for the days of summer, Gravis Marketing finds Hillary leading, 57% to 36%.

I wouldn't count on anything that lopsided, though.

On the Republican side, the Des Moines Register/Bloomberg poll finds Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas leading Donald Trump by three points, 25% to 22%.

But as much as Trump has appeared to be preparing his followers for a defeat, I think he may actually be trying to lower expectations so the victory he anticipates will be that much more meaningful. Gravis Marketing has Trump in front by six points, 34% to 28%. Public Policy Polling says Trump is ahead but by a narrower margin, 28% to 26%.

I'm thinking we could be in for a couple of cliffhangers two weeks from tonight.

Saturday, January 9, 2016

The Rubber Hits the Road



The past, as they say, is prologue, and the changing of the calendar to the official start of a presidential election year brings a new seriousness to the pursuits of the parties' presidential nominations.

All that went before was little more than strutting and posturing. The party campaigns were popularity contests last year, entertaining but, once the holidays are over and the primaries loom on the horizon, the rhetoric becomes strangely irrelevant.

Participation is what is relevant, and that is a whole other thing.

The people who participate in the voting that will matter — the contests that will assign the actual delegates who will be voting at this summer's conventions — will be highly motivated, especially the ones who participate in the caucuses. They are very different from primaries.

If you live in a caucus state, you must get organized with like–minded folks so you can make an effective case for your candidate at the caucus. Caucus goers often have to devote several hours to their caucus — as opposed to those who vote in primaries, in which you may have to stand in line for awhile but, eventually, you will only spend a brief period in the polling booth — and you will do so alone. With the extended voting periods in so many states, if you plan it well, you can walk right in, vote and walk back out in a matter of minutes. I know. I've done it.

Taking part in either a primary or a caucus does require a level of commitment that not everyone is willing to make. Those are the only poll results I want to see. It doesn't really mean anything until people start voting in primaries or caucuses.

The people who attend political rallies may be registered to vote, but registered voters and likely voters are two different breeds altogether.

It doesn't take much commitment to attend a political rally. Donald Trump has been drawing thousands to his rallies, but many in the crowds are those who, while they may be registered to vote, do not tend to make a habit of voting. Thus, they are not likely voters.

Of course, the same could be said of many who attended Ross Perot's rallies in 1992, but in the end Perot brought nearly 20 million Americans into the electoral process. It remains to be seen if Trump's supporters can match Perot's in terms of commitment.

And we'll start finding out in three weeks, when Iowa holds its caucuses.

The closer we get to actual voting, the more pollsters seem to be moving in the direction of differentiating between merely registered voters and likely voters.

Reach Communications' most recent survey ahead of the Feb. 9 New Hampshire primary was conducted with Republicans and independents who said they would be voting in the primary. Donald Trump led by 20 percentage points. Fox News' most recent poll was with likely voters, who are determined through a series of screening questions. That survey showed Trump with an 18–point lead.

Public Policy Polling's latest survey — also conducted among likely voters — shows Trump with a 14–point lead.

The Trump–Ted Cruz battle in the Feb. 1 Iowa caucuses could be fierce. The most recent Gravis Marketing survey in Iowa was conducted in December, but it, too, emphasized those who were likely to participate. It found Trump and Cruz tied at 31% apiece.

"Many more people say they will vote than actually do," observes the Gallup Organization at its website, "so it is not sufficient to simply ask people whether they will vote."

Gallup's screening questions are:
Thought given to election (quite a lot, some)
Know where people in neighborhood go to vote (yes)
Voted in election precinct before (yes)
How often vote (always, nearly always)
Plan to vote in 2016 election (yes)
Likelihood of voting on a 10-point scale (7-10)
Voted in last presidential election (yes)

Each pollster uses its own screening questions, but the process is essentially the same from one to another.

My guess is that, as we get closer to each primary or caucus, the polls from each state will be conducted with likely voters.

And that is when we will start to get an idea whether a candidate's support has any real depth to it.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Jeb's Hail Mary



There was a time when Jeb Bush was regarded as the Republican Party's front–runner for the 2016 nomination — a prospect that elicited groans across the political spectrum. No one, it seemed, relished the idea of another Bush–Clinton campaign — even though, to be old enough merely to remember the first one, never mind the issues of the campaign, I imagine one would have to be at least 30 years old.

Nor, for that matter, did many people seem to be enthusiastic about the prospect of a third Bush presidency.

But that was before Donald Trump came along, seized the lead and held on to it for months, defying gravity in a political environment that has long been accustomed to seeing a front–runner of the week in races for the Republican nomination.

Meanwhile Jeb has been sinking like a stone in a pond. The former front–runner has been mired in single digits in the polls for weeks now.

I continue to believe, as I always have, that polls conducted in the early stages of presidential nominating contests mean little. I have seen too many front–runners falter. Most of the time, the front–runner winds up winning ... but not always. That is why early polls mean little to me. They're usually about name recognition and little else (which makes it telling, I suppose, that so many Democrats choose someone other than Hillary Clinton, who was first lady for eight years, senator for another eight and secretary of state for four, or continue to say they are undecided when asked their preference in 2016).

It's what people do when they are in the privacy of the voting booth that matters.

So I prefer to wait until people actually start voting before I begin the process of deciding for whom I will vote. And, being an independent, I don't tend to vote in primaries, anyway. So I can wait until the parties have made their decisions before I choose a candidate to support — if I do.

But I'm in the minority on that one, I suppose. It never fails to amaze me — the faith that people place in polls conducted more than a year before an election is to be held and how so many things — chiefly financial and popular support — ride on something that can be as imprecise as public opinion polling.

Bush's latest move should come as no surprise. He is redeploying his resources away from ad buys and boots on the ground in Iowa and South Carolina and focusing on New Hampshire (where recent polls conducted by American Research Group and CBS News/YouGov show Bush in single digits) and some other early primaries.

(That's another thing about presidential politics that I have always found troubling — how something as important as a major party's nomination for the presidency of the greatest nation on earth can hinge on the electoral whims of the voters in a state — New Hampshire — with a total population that is only slightly larger and much less diverse than the city in which I live — Dallas. But that is another subject for another day.)

Bush's decision is a desperation move. You can call it that, or you can use other names for it — a "Hail Mary" or a by–the–seat–of–your–pants strategy. Whatever you call it, the Bush campaign is struggling and needs something to give it some juice. That will be easier said than done.

"The decision will keep Bush from paying for roughly $3 million of reserved TV time in January," explains Ed O'Keefe in the Washington Post, "a little more than $1 million in Iowa, just under $2 million in South Carolina."

See? It's a dollars–and–cents thing, pure and simple.

But South Carolina will be the second primary on the Republican calendar. New Hampshire votes in its first–in–the–nation primary on Feb. 9 a week after the caucuses in Iowa (where a Gravis Marketing poll shows Bush with only 4%); South Carolina (where the most recent CBS News/YouGov poll has Bush at 7%, far behind Trump and Ted Cruz) votes two weeks later. I presume that, if Bush rallies and wins in New Hampshire, he will re–redeploy resources to South Carolina.

That is the essence of the "Hail Mary" strategy. You do it, and, if it succeeds, you will probably have to do it again — and perhaps again. Football teams that have to go to the "Hail Mary" often need to make up more than one score. The romanticized vision of the "Hail Mary" is a single long pass, like the one Roger Staubach threw in the playoffs 40 years ago, but the realistic one is that it is more like the "domino theory" of presidential politics

That will be Bush's last chance to establish some momentum before the March 1 "Super Tuesday" primaries in 10 states — Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Georgia, Massachusetts, Oklahoma, Tennessee, Texas, Vermont and Virginia. That is the big day, and my guess is that several campaigns will come to an end within days of Super Tuesday — unless each state votes for someone different, and that doesn't seem likely to happen.

But that suggests faith that the polls are right, and they may not be. They may be overstating Donald Trump's support (which may be made apparent as we move into the post–holiday phase when, per the conventional wisdom, voters start paying closer attention to the candidates), or they may be, as I wrote recently, understating it.

Even if Bush survives until Super Tuesday, he has other problems that he has to hope stronger–than–expected showings in New Hampshire and South Carolina will help to resolve. Polls in Super Tuesday states don't have good news for the Bush campaign — if they voted today. In Massachusetts, a Boston Globe/Suffolk poll has Bush in fourth place with 7%, 25 points behind Trump. In Oklahoma, the most recent Sooner Poll has Bush at 2%.

There are, of course, still three states that have not chosen dates for their primaries — Maine, North Dakota and Wyoming — but even if they schedule their primaries on one of the other days when multiple primaries will be held, there still will be no other day when as many states vote as Super Tuesday.

That will be the real Hail Mary for those who win — as well as those who survive — in New Hampshire and South Carolina.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Over the Line



"I have to admit yesterday when I saw that cartoon — not much ticks me off but making fun of my girls, that'll do it."

Sen. Ted Cruz (R–Texas)

I have always been an advocate of the First Amendment.

Now, I was brought up to believe in all of the freedoms outlined in the Bill of Rights and the Constitution, but the First Amendment has always been my thing. That is no surprise, I guess, given my background; ordinarily, I will come down on the side of freedom of speech and freedom of the press over just about anything else.

When I was in college, I took what amounted to an exception–free stance. I saw no circumstances in which freedom of the press or freedom of speech could justifiably be abridged. To do so, I felt, was contrary to the concept of true liberty.

As time has passed, though, my positions have modified, and I have come to believe that there are limits. Freedom of speech does not give one the right to yell "Fire!" in a crowded theater — to actively encourage public hysteria. There is the greater good to be considered.

And freedom of the press does not give anyone the right to publish anything. People who are in the public eye are one thing. Most of them chose to be where they are — there are exceptions, of course, but I'm not talking about people who are thrust into the spotlight through no choice of their own. I'm talking about politicians, movie stars, professional athletes. They knew — or should have known — what to expect. But usually their families are off limits.

The Washington Post crossed that line with its cartoon of Ted Cruz and his two young daughters this week.

Now, it is important to remember that there is no law that prevents a publication from running a cartoon on any topic the editor and/or the editorial board desire. There is no legal obligation for any newspaper or magazine or TV program to avoid mentioning a politician's children, but there is a moral one. It is the guideline of good taste and sound judgment, and it is a line that most news outlets, regardless of their editorial leanings, will not cross. This week the Washington Post went over the line.

One can debate, I suppose, Cruz's judgment in using his children in one of his television commercials, but the truth is that he is far from the first politician to do so. In fact, I can't recall a truly serious candidate for the presidency in my lifetime, whether he was his party's nominee or not, who did not use his family in his campaign. And I can't recall a single candidate for a lesser office, from my developmental years in Arkansas through my adult years in Oklahoma and Texas, who didn't bring forth the family during the campaign. Photo ops, TV commercials, rallies, the spouse and kids were everywhere — especially if they were photogenic.

This is the first time in my memory, however, that a candidate's children were attacked editorially for participating in that candidate's campaign advertising.

The editor of the Post tried to wriggle out of it by observing that, because Cruz had used his family in a Christmas–themed political commercial, he could understand why cartoonist Ann Telnaes thought the Post's prohibition on such depictions of a prominent politician's children had been lifted, at least in this case. He admitted failing to review the cartoon before it was published and said he disagreed with Telnaes' assessment.

"When a politician uses his children as political props, as Ted Cruz recently did in his Christmas parody video in which his eldest daughter read (with her father's dramatic flourish) a passage of an edited Christmas classic, then I figure they are fair game."

Ann Telnaes
Washington Post cartoonist

But the damage has been done, and the Post now acknowledges that the episode was a "gift" to the Cruz campaign, which has criticized the media for its double standard in its coverage of Democrats and Republicans. It gives him lots of ammunition to whip up the faithful in the weeks and months ahead. It may give Cruz added momentum heading into the Iowa caucuses and New Hampshire primary.

I can only imagine the outcry if Barack Obama's daughters were portrayed in an editorial cartoon as monkeys.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

The Return of the Bradley Effect



I have written here before of the "Bradley effect," but that was in the context of the 2008 presidential election, a time when voters were deciding whether to elect the first black president. That wasn't as inconsequential a decision as you might think now, more than seven years after the fact. After all, Barack Obama has been elected president twice now. Voters face a different kind of decision in 2016.

Simply put, the Bradley effect refers to the 1982 California gubernatorial campaign of Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley. Bradley was black, and polls prior to the election showed him leading the race. But he lost — narrowly — to Republican George Deukmejian (who won by less than 100,000 votes out of more than 7.5 million).

I suppose it goes without saying that the outcome of that election prompted a lot of soul searching, and the general conclusion that most people seemed to reach was that Bradley fared better in the polls because those who were polled did not wish to appear racist — so even if they were undecided or leaning toward the Republican, they told the pollsters that they would vote for Bradley, thus creating an artificial lead for him.

When they went into the voting booths, though, the voters did not have to concern themselves with what others would think of them, and they pulled the lever for the Republican — regardless of what they may have told the pollsters.

I bring this up because I think we could be seeing a new — and fascinating — twist on that theme in the campaign of Donald Trump. It isn't necessary to say much about Trump. So much has already been said about him, including the seemingly daily assertions that the Trump campaign has peaked, which always seem to be followed by a new poll showing Trump with even more support than he had before. Clearly, this guy is tapping into something, with his rhetoric about Muslims and immigration, but it's something a lot of people don't seem to want to acknowledge.

It's all about perceptions. Thirty–three years ago, a lot of Californians didn't want to appear to be racist. Today, perhaps a lot of people don't want to appear to be supporting a racist. Well, a perceived racist.

In case you haven't heard, a Quinnipiac University poll that was released today suggests that half of Americans would be embarrassed if Trump became the president. Could the same dynamic be at work here?

It reminds me in a way of a congressional campaign in my district in central Arkansas a couple of years after the Bradley election. There was a rather flamboyant sheriff in Pulaski County at the time named Tommy Robinson, who had apparently been angling for higher office with some publicity stunts.

Now, that district was represented for decades by Democrat Wilbur Mills, and he was succeeded by a Democrat when he stepped down, but that Democrat chose to run for the U.S. Senate after serving a single term, and a Republican was elected to the seat. The Republican held the seat for six years, then he, too, chose to run for the Senate, and Tommy Robinson announced he was running for the House seat as a Democrat. Historically, it was the right choice. Until the Republican incumbent was elected, the district hadn't been represented by a Republican since Reconstruction.

I don't remember much about the advertising in the Democratic primary (which Robinson won in a runoff) or the general election, but I do remember one of Robinson's ads. I think he used it in both the primary and the general election. It showed a series of vignettes in which friends were talking and one would say, "Who are you voting for for Congress?" and the other would say something like, "Well, you'll probably be surprised, but I'm voting for Tommy Robinson."

And that opened the door to confront all the negative stories that had been circulating about Robinson for years.

Now, as it turned out, Robinson was a crook who got caught up in the House banking scandal. But that was still several years in the future when Robinson first ran for the House.

And my memory of that campaign is that pollsters were quite certain that Robinson's Republican opponent, Judy Petty (who lost to Mills 10 years earlier), would win. Polls were showing her leading, which wasn't really hard to imagine. Petty was running as a Ronald Reagan Republican in a year when Reagan carried three–fifths of the vote in that district.

But the Gipper's popularity didn't trickle down enough for Petty to prevail. Or perhaps those people who told the pollsters they would vote for Petty actually voted for Robinson instead.

And perhaps Donald Trump, like George Deukmejian and Tommy Robinson, will have the last laugh.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Going in the Wrong Direction?



A couple of months ago, I wrote about the "Six–Year Itch" — the clear tendency since the end of World War II for American voters to turn on the party in power by the time of the administration's sixth year in office. We saw ample evidence of that happening in last year's midterms.

I wrote that with presidential approval ratings in mind, but I have been studying the results of the elections a little more closely since I wrote that, and I have concluded that you really can't grasp the situation unless you consider another question that pollsters usually ask.

It concerns the direction of the country, and the question that Gallup tends to ask is this: "In general are you satisfied or dissatisfied with the way things are going in the United States?"

Pollsters haven't been asking that question very long at least when compared to other basic polling questions. But it's kind of like another question that tries to gauge the country's mood — the one that asks whether people approve or disapprove of the job Congress is doing. The answer in both cases is almost always negative, resoundingly so. That is why presidential nominees' coattails are so important down the ballot in Senate and House races.

It's the trickle–down theory applied to politics, but it still just a theory. Some presidential candidates have been more successful than others in transferring their political popularity to other candidates in their parties.

Folks who are in government service — and those who want to be — are wise to watch the results closely. Just how negative is the response? How did the out–of–power party fare when disapproval of the direction of the country was similar to the level we have today?

Obviously, the lower the better for the incumbent party, but that is seldom the case. The country consistently falls short of most people's expectations — even though, if you study your history, it is clear that this nation has always been a work in progress. To expect it to become a utopia in a single presidency is naive and unrealistic.

Well, there's a lot of that going around.

It's been more than 10 years since the question about the direction of the country got a positive response — and that probably had more to do with the residual effect of the rally–'round–the–flag atmosphere following the 9–11 attacks. Usually, more than 50% of respondents — typically far more than 50% — are negative. Dissatisfaction with the direction of the country has been over 70% most of the time for years.

Satisfaction with the direction of the country rose into the 30s in the early months of the Obama presidency, but it slipped below 30% by his first Labor Day. It went above 30% in the months before Obama's re–election but quickly fell below 30% again, then briefly returned to the 30s last winter.

Dissatisfaction with the direction of the country isn't always fatal to a president's hope of being re–elected, but it is almost always impossible for a candidate of a term–limited president's party to win if both satisfaction with the direction of the country and approval of a president's job performance are in negative territory.

Barack Obama's most recent approval figure was at 42%, his lowest level in at least a year. Combined with 71% of respondents who currently say the country is going in the wrong direction, that makes Hillary Clinton's task of becoming Obama's successor considerably more daunting.

Does that mean Donald Trump will be the next president of the United States? Possibly, but the selection of the nominee for the out–of–power party is a different subject — not entirely removed from the topics of presidential approval and satisfaction with the direction of the country but not unrelated, either. It's just that there are other factors to consider — and, while Trump's campaign has been defying political wisdom, it is important to remember that no one has voted yet. Republicans won't officially begin the process of choosing their nominee until after the holidays.

We're still nearly 10 months from Election Day, and that is an eternity in politics. Much can happen, and those numbers could turn around. The window won't stay open indefinitely.

Realistically, voter attitudes tend to harden by the May before an election, so there isn't as much time as Democrats probably would like to think.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

Terrorism and Politics



"Lawmakers burst into debate over gun control, philosophers analyzed the nature of violence, and the nation was described as grieving.

"Yet 'grief' suddenly seemed like a faintly obsolete word. Nor would 'shock,' 'rage,' 'dismay' do, either. Such anthropomorphic words have been, for generations, the most convenient shorthand of political observation, inviting writers to describe millions of people as if their emotions were fused by a single spasm of 'agony,' 'despair,' 'vengeance' or 'sorrow' — as if, indeed, they were one community. But it is impossible ever to describe a great nation as if it were a community — and, in 1968, the essence of the matter was that the old faith of Americans in themselves, as a community of communities, seemed to be dissolving."


Theodore H. White, 'The Making of the President 1968'

Donald Trump's meteoric rise in the polls — in defiance of all conventional wisdom — is clearly baffling to many people (although the latest poll from Iowa hints that Trump may finally have peaked). They don't know what it means. Is it racism? Is it fascism? Should we pass more laws that would have been totally ineffective in preventing the latest massacre?

I think it is fairly easy to see what is happening in this country today — in large part because I can remember what happened in this country many yesterdays ago — and I have formed a theory about it and the 2016 presidential campaign.

I am speaking of a time when the United States really appeared to be coming apart at the seams — 1968 — when political assassinations and violence in city streets were commonplace.

I was only a child at the time, and I didn't fully understand everything that I saw and heard, but I could comprehend a lot of it. I saw TV reports of riots in the streets of big cities. I saw protesters being beaten by police, and I saw protesters throwing rocks and bottles at the police in response. I saw reports of prominent Americans being assassinated.

I knew fear and chaos when I saw it, and I see the same thing happening now.

Don't get me wrong. There was unrest all over the world. There always is — somewhere. But not usually everywhere — and that is what seemed to be happening in 1968. I'm not saying that actually is what was happening. But it sure seemed like it.

And it was frightening.

You had a pretty good idea in those days which places were best to avoid. In the summer of '68, for example, you didn't want to be near the Democrats' convention hall in Chicago.

You could avoid the obvious places for protests — but those places aren't so obvious anymore. We've seen riots recently that occurred in unpredictable places. That kind of thing tends to make people feel unsafe, you know?

So do seemingly random attacks like the one in San Bernardino, Calif., less than two weeks ago.

Now, we all know that bad things can happen to any one of us at any time. That's life. And, eventually, life is going to end for us all. We may get sick or injured and never recover, or we may be in a fatal accident of some kind. Or any of 10,000 or so other potential causes of death. (The list is virtually endless.) I think most of us have accepted that. So we continue to drive our cars to restaurants and concerts and work, always with that reality tucked away in the backs of our minds.

We know that we will never get out of this world alive. We don't like to be reminded of it on a daily basis. And we don't expect death to come when we're shopping or eating — or participating in an office holiday party.

I think it was Woody Allen who said, "I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens." If we're honest with ourselves, no matter what we think happens or doesn't happen when we stop breathing, that's how we feel, too.

Of course, the kind of spiritual leaders that we have historically had here in the West — ministers, priests, rabbis — remind us that we will die, but they do so as part of a long–term campaign for souls, not to encourage listeners to hasten the day when others' souls will be won or lost — for good. That image, fairly or not, is what many Americans see in their mind's eye when they think of mosques and Muslims.

I think Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are probably correct when they say that most Muslims are peaceful, but you can't ignore the fact that most of the recents terrorist acts, both here and overseas, have been committed by Muslims — and that causes fear. And when refugees are streaming across the border, it isn't possible to tell which ones can be trusted and which ones cannot.

I see 1968 and 2016 as being comparable. Then, as now, people felt unsafe, and they looked for a leader who would take a firm stand against what scared them. President Johnson left a vacuum in this regard, much as Barack Obama has left a vacuum; Hubert Humphrey was left holding the bag for the administration in '68, and he lost a close race to Richard Nixon — the only man in modern American history to win the presidency after having lost a previous presidential election — because the administration had repeatedly demonstrated that it didn't have a clue what to do.

And Nixon won with a third–party firebrand named George Wallace running. Wallace received more than 13% of the vote, with most of those votes coming from the South, and he carried five Southern states that almost certainly would have voted for Nixon if Wallace had not been in the race.

History tells us that the Republicans won five of the next six presidential elections — in large part because they won the battle for the hearts and minds of the voters on the issue of law and order.

I hear many Republicans fretting about Trump running as an independent if denied the GOP nomination. If that happens, the logic says, Hillary Clinton will be the beneficiary just as they allege that her husband was elected because Ross Perot got one–fifth of the popular vote in 1992. I don't think that is true. History shows that third–party candidacies, when they are most appealing to voters, tend to be a problem for whichever party is in power.

Exit–poll surveys in 1992 indicated that, if Perot had not run, Clinton and George H.W. Bush each would have picked up about 40% of his supporters, and the remaining 20% would not have voted at all. The numbers would fluctuate by state, of course, and it is fair to suggest that states where the race between Clinton and Bush was close could have swung the other way if Perot had not been on the ballot. But in the states where Clinton or Bush had decisive leads, it is unlikely that Perot's absence from the race would have meant much.

If the '92 exit polls are correct — and I have neither heard nor seen any evidence that would lead me to believe they are not — I suppose many Republicans believe Bush could have won that 20%, but I'm inclined to think those voters wouldn't have chosen from the major parties' nominees. They were drawn in to the process by Perot and most likely would have receded into the shadows from which they came if he had not been on the ballot. They weren't responsive to Bush or Clinton.

A dozen years before that, in 1980, there was talk right up until Election Day that Rep. John Anderson would siphon off enough votes from both President Jimmy Carter and former Gov. Ronald Reagan to force their race into the House of Representatives. Anderson had run against Reagan in the Republican primaries before deciding to mount a third–party campaign, and he was widely praised as an alternative to the major nominees. But the experts overestimated his influence on the campaign. Anderson won no states and received only 6.6% of the vote.

Perhaps Carter would have won most of Anderson's votes if Anderson had not run as a third–party candidate, but, outside the South, where Carter lost nearly every state but held Reagan under 50% in most, it hardly seems it would have mattered. Reagan won in a landslide.

The issue right now is not whether Trump would fracture the party and allow Hillary Clinton to win next year. The issue for voters is who makes them feel safe. Trump has been successful at that. If his Republican challengers want to be relevant in the 2016 campaign, they will need to address it, too.

Because 2016, like 1968, is going to be about an increasingly insecure nation and how it deals with its greatest fear.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Scratching the Six-Year Itch



For the last seven or eight years, American voters have seemed to be intent upon turning history on its ear.

They elected and re–elected a black president while taking away his party's advantages in first the House and then the Senate. Aggrieved Democrats have complained that, somehow, the system is rigged against them in midterms. Yet, while these congressional shifts were extreme by historical standards, the pattern has been unmistakable.

The party that is not in possession of the White House almost always does better in midterms than the party in power. Sometimes the Democrats benefit. Sometimes the Republicans benefit. Depends on who holds the White House.

It is Americans' way of preventing the political pendulum from swinging too far in one direction or the other. We like to think of ourselves as fair and balanced, tolerant of all and open to all — whether we really are or not — and we use the ballot to pursue equilibrium. (If we ever actually achieve equilibrium, it is short–lived.)

I have written of this before, and you can find those posts archived elsewhere on this blog.

But a lot of that has addressed congressional politics. It naturally leads to an interesting phenomenon I have observed in presidential politics — but have not written about. Others have, though, to an extent. I think political analyst Charlie Cook wrote something to the effect that, in discussions of presidential politics, whenever the conversation turns to the dynamics of a campaign, the introduction of the phenomenon is "as sure as the sun coming up in the morning."

It is called the "Six–Year Itch," and it holds that voters are inclined to look favorably upon the out–of–power party by the time the current administration has been in place for six years. This really goes beyond the midterm elections, which, as I say, almost never go well for the incumbent party, and has more to do with the popularity of the incumbent during the time of the midterms.

After all, even popular presidents see their parties lose ground in midterms, especially second midterms (which fall in a re–elected president's sixth year in office). About a week before the second midterm of his presidency, Ronald Reagan's approval rating was 63% — but his personal popularity failed to help his Republican Party maintain its grip on its majority in the Senate — a majority it had held since Reagan was first elected in 1980.

Voters, though, treat legislative elections and executive elections differently. Following the '86 midterms, Reagan's popularity took a beating during the Iran–Contra affair, but he bounced back and helped his vice president win the presidency two years later when he was constitutionally prevented from running.

Following Barack Obama's re–election in 2012, the Washington Post sought to shoot holes in the notion of a six–year itch.

"It's overrated," wrote Aaron Blake for the Post. He wrote that column, it is worth noting, less than six weeks after his employer endorsed Obama's re–election bid so you need to consider that as a counterweight to Blake's argument. I was inclined to agree with him, to an extent, when he wrote, "It's not so much that a second midterm isn't trouble for an incumbent president, as much as midterms in general are trouble. And the American public scratches that itch nearly as often in a president's second year as in his sixth year."

That, it seems to me, supports what I wrote about that political pendulum correction. So does the fact that today more Americans than ever do not identify with either party and call themselves independent.

Whether they do so consciously or not, I think most Americans are inclined to give a president — of either party — the two four–year terms in office to which he is constitutionally limited, all things being equal. I guess Americans tend to be reluctant to admit having made a mistake in electing someone a first time. But it depends on what he does with his first four years, and experience tells me that is largely a matter of perception.

If a negative perception takes hold early — if the president suffers a string of setbacks at the start of a presidency — and the perception of misfortune is allowed to harden, it can be almost impossible to overcome. If the president is perceived to have made a mess of things — as Jimmy Carter was — voters look elsewhere for leadership. If a president is perceived to have exceeded expectations, that reservoir of good will makes a landslide re–election likely.

That, I think, is a big reason why some presidents who don't seem to share the same belief system with many of their constituents nevertheless win their votes for second terms.

In those second terms, a president's popularity really is more of a concern to whoever his party nominates to replace him. That is the true coattail effect of which political analysts often speak, and it is the last (if not only) opportunity for a president to have an electoral influence. Coattails are not really factors in House and Senate midterm elections, which are not national and tend to be decided by issues that matter only within the boundaries of states and congressional districts, but they can be factors in national campaigns.

But there is a catch.

Historically, the United States has not been likely to elect candidates who are nominated by an incumbent president's party to succeed that president. Well, I guess that should be narrowed down to the post–World War II period. Prior to the war, the United States was hardly hesitant to stick with the same party in more than two consecutive presidential elections.

It elected Franklin D. Roosevelt four times, then elected the man who succeeded him following his death and just prior to the end of the war, Harry Truman, to a full four–year term of his own. Just prior to FDR's time, Republicans won three straight elections. In fact, Woodrow Wilson's two terms in office in the early 20th century and Grover Cleveland's two nonconsecutive terms in the late 19th century were the only interruptions in a period when Republicans won 14 of 18 national elections.

But since World War II and Truman's decision not to seek another term in 1952, Americans have only elected the same party three straight times once. That was in the 1980s, when Reagan won twice and then his vice president, George H.W. Bush, was elected to succeed him.

Reagan, as I pointed out, enjoyed solid approval ratings just before his party sustained significant Senate losses in 1986 — but that was on the legislative side. His personal popularity benefited Bush in the 1988 election.

Not that Bush's opponent, Michael Dukakis, didn't seem to do everything in his power to sabotage his own campaign.

And that, I think, underscores an important point about the six–year itch. It is susceptible to the dynamics that are unique to each campaign.

The popularity of the incumbent president seems to have a lot to do with the outcome, but that is no guarantee. Dwight Eisenhower enjoyed approval ratings that exceeded 50% for much of his presidency, but his vice president lost narrowly in his first bid for the presidency.

That leads me to another observation: It is also important for the president's would–be successor to take advantage of the resource of a popular incumbent. To my knowledge, Richard Nixon never distanced himself from Eisenhower, but the Republican ticket was hurt by the recession the country experienced in 1960.

Al Gore didn't embrace the popular Bill Clinton in 2000, and that was a decision that apparently cost him the presidency. Clinton's approval rating just before the 1998 midterms was over 60%, but Gore, while winning the 2000 popular vote, lost the Electoral College.

Since the advent of the polling era, few presidents have been popular with a majority of voters at the ends of their presidencies, and their would–be successors suffered for it. In 1966, after six years of the Kennedy–Johnson presidency, Democrat Lyndon Johnson had an approval rating of about 43% — roughly the share of the vote his vice president, Hubert Humphrey, received on Election Day two years later.

1974, after nearly two full terms of the Nixon–Ford presidency, Republican Gerald Ford's approval rating was around 47%, and he narrowly lost the election to Jimmy Carter in 1976.

History says the voters will have an itch to scratch next year, and Obama, like Ford, hovers below the 50% mark. Ford, of course, had the advantages of incumbency in the election year of 1976, and Obama will not be allowed to seek a third term, which suggests that 2016 will be an uphill climb for the Democrats' nominee.

It looks like it will be the Republican's race to lose.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

The Eternal Randomness of Presidential Politics



"There's something happening here
But what it is ain't exactly clear."


Buffalo Springfield

Peggy Noonan recently observed in The Wall Street Journal that, so far, the 2016 presidential campaign has been full of surprises.

She made this observation in the context of another column that she wrote earlier this year in which she anticipated a "bloody" battle for the GOP's presidential nomination and a "boring" one for the Democrats' nod.

Now, she writes, the Republican campaign has become "exciting" with a record–setting debate night, and the Democrats' campaign has become "ominous." In other words, the presidential campaign — in which not one single vote has been cast in either party — has been full of surprises for Noonan.

That in itself surprises me. I've been aware of Noonan for 30 years, going back to when she wrote President Reagan's moving speech to the nation after the explosion of the Challenger in January 1986. If she's been around presidential politics at least that long, she should know how unpredictable it can be. Really. When has it ever been anything else?

As we approached the time last spring when Hillary Clinton made her candidacy official, I began to have a peculiar feeling about this campaign. Everyone acted as if it was a done deal that Hillary would not only win the Democrats' nomination but would breeze to victory in the general election.

Now, in my experience, nothing is that positive — and I have been following presidential politics most of my life. To be sure, there have been times when non–incumbent front–runners ended up cruising to the nomination as expected, but they usually struggle along the way, losing at least a primary or two. In keeping with history, it hasn't been the fait accompli that Hillary Clinton's march to the nomination appeared to be only a few months ago — and no one has even voted yet.

Now, Hillary insists that she never expected an effortless glide to the nomination, that she always expected it to be competitive. Part of that may be the residual effect of having been the presumptive nominee in 2008 only to lose it to an inexperienced — and largely unknown — guy named Barack Obama when the party's voters began participating in primaries and caucuses. And at least part of it is sure to be P.R.

It reminds me of Election Night 1980, when Hillary's husband lost a narrow race for re–election as Arkansas' governor. I guess you had to be in Arkansas at the time to understand just how popular Bill Clinton was there then — and how shocking it was that he had been voted out of office. True, he lost his first race, in 1974, for the U.S. House seat representing Arkansas' Third District, but he took 48% of the vote in that heavily Republican northwest quadrant of the state. Two years later, he was elected Arkansas' attorney general, facing only modest opposition in the primary and none in the general election. Arkansas elected its statewide officials every two years in those days, and, in 1978, Bill Clinton was elected governor.

1980 turned out to be a Republican year, with Reagan sweeping Jimmy Carter out of the White House and Republicans seizing control of the U.S. Senate. There were clear indications prior to the election that it would turn out that way nationally.

But Arkansas was solidly Democratic in those days. Four years earlier, it had given Carter his highest share of the popular vote outside of Carter's home state of Georgia. Even with a Reagan victory more or less expected, the feeling in Arkansas was that Carter would prevail there again.

But he didn't, and neither did Clinton. Both lost narrowly, and, when speaking to his supporters that night, Clinton said that he and his campaign staff had been aware, in the closing days of the campaign, of shifts within the electorate that pointed to the possibility that he would lose. It didn't come as a shock to them, Clinton insisted.

But I'll guarantee it came as a shock to many Arkansans.

I was probably too young at the time to recognize that for what it was — an early manifestation of the Clintons' obsession with controlling the conversation, whatever it was about. Even if you have been blindsided, never let 'em know that.

That trait is often interpreted as deceitful, and perhaps it is. What I have known about Hillary Clinton for a long time — and others only seem to be understanding now — is that she is a cold fish politically. Her husband is a scoundrel, but he is a likable scoundrel. He has sure–footed natural political instincts. It is why he hasn't lost a general election since he was beaten in that 1980 campaign I mentioned earlier. He lost some presidential primaries but always won the nomination he sought.

Hillary has none of her husband's strengths and all of his weaknesses. It is a combination that isn't likely to hurt her much in the race for the nomination — but it is apt to be troublesome when she is trying to win as many independent and even Republican votes as possible. Because she can't win a national election on the votes from her party alone. No one can — not in a country where more than 40% of voters identify as independents.

Self–defined independents are important because they now outnumber Democrats and Republicans. They may lean to one side or the other, but the fact that they call themselves independent suggests that they cannot be taken for granted.

In spite of what Noonan says, though, I'm not sold — yet — on the narrative that holds that the emergence of Bernie Sanders on the campaign trail and the possible entry of Vice President Joe Biden — who met with Sen. Elizabeth Warren recently in what may have been the strongest signal yet that he will throw his hat in the ring — suggest that a race Noonan once described as "boring" is becoming "ominous." Well, perhaps "ominous" really isn't the right word. Perhaps Noonan — who is a gifted writer — should use a word like "threatening," because, at the moment, that is what this looks like to me.

As usual, I look to history for guidance. All history, really, but I prefer recent history when it is applicable.

There have been times in the last half century when insurgents have won their parties' nominations. Historically, Democrats have been more prone to it — eventual nominees George McGovern, Jimmy Carter, Michael Dukakis, even Bill Clinton and Barack Obama were nowhere in the polls more than a year before the general election when they were the standard bearers for the out–of–power party — so history does suggest that Sanders might have a chance to win the nomination — provided he can peel off some rich donors and make inroads into certain demographics that currently are in Hillary's camp.

But those donors and demographic groups are going to have to get a lot more nervous about Hillary before they'll be ripe for the picking. The fact that Sanders is drawing huge crowds on the campaign trail indicates to me that a sizable segment of the Democrats craves a real contest for this nomination, one that requires Democrats to take clear stands on issues and promote policies that are designed to help the voters, not the candidates.

I think that is true of voters of all stripes. They want to have a conversation about the issues that affect them and their children. They don't want that conversation to be disrupted by distractions. And the emergence of people like Donald Trump, Ben Carson and Carly Fiorina suggests voters have lost confidence in career politicians to confront and vanquish the problems and are looking for someone who can bring common sense from another field to the White House.

I would say that Hillary is still the odds–on favorite to win the nomination, but those odds are growing ever smaller. If Biden challenges her with a platform that appeals to an electorate that has clearly soured on politics as usual, things could get dicey for the Democrats. Hillary Clinton could find herself in political history books with all the other sure things — like Ed Muskie and Gary Hart.

Then there's Donald Trump.

A lot of Republicans fear that, if Trump is denied the GOP's nomination, he will run as an independent — and, in the process, hand the White House to the Democrats for four more years. I suppose they are the new Republicans, the ones whose party has lost five of the last six popular votes, a skid that began with Ross Perot's first independent candidacy.

I'm not so sure about that one, either. Hey, it is still very early in the process, and the folks who fear that Trump, with his deep pockets, will keep the Republicans from winning the presidency by running as an independent overlook a few key points that separate 2016 from 1992.

In 1992, the Republicans had been the incumbent party for a dozen years. They never had majorities in both houses of Congress simultaneously — in fact, for half of that time, Democrats controlled both houses — but the general public perception was that the Republicans had ownership of just about everything.

In 2016, Democrats will have been in charge of the White House for eight years, and the policies that will be debated are policies that, by and large, are products of this administration. If historical trends persist, voters will hold them responsible for conditions that exist, even though Republicans have controlled one or both houses of Congress through most of the Obama presidency; and Trump, although he has been seeking the Republican nomination, was supportive of many of those policies — and may tend to draw as many votes from disaffected Democrats as Republicans if he runs as an independent in the general election.

In short, an independent Trump candidacy won't necessarily work against Republicans, as many fear.

I learned a long time ago not to predict what voters will do until we are close to the time when they have to go to the polls. Attitudes are volatile more than a year from the election, and there may be events ahead that will shape the race in ways we cannot imagine.

One thing that voters in both parties must decide is whether essentially political matters are best left to essentially non–political people. If the answer to that is no, the primaries will bear witness to a thinning of the Republican field. I think that is bound to happen anyway. Virtually none of the GOP candidates mired at 1% or 2% in the polls can afford to stay in the race for long, and I am convinced the field will be half its current size before New Year's Day. At least one of the non–politicians is certain to be among those who drop out.

That will make it possible for all the candidates to participate in the same debate — and voters can judge them side by side. The race will become more focused, as it should.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Hindsight Is 20/20



Hindsight is a wonderful thing. It really is. I believe it is an extremely good quality for a person to possess, to be able to look back at a decision that turned out to be the wrong one and learn from it.

The decision to invade Iraq in 2003 was the wrong decision. I believed it was the wrong decision at the time, but that was not a popular position to take. It took a certain amount of courage, back in those post–September 11 days, to tell one's friends and co–workers, many of whom supported the decision to invade Iraq, that it was a bad decision, and I did not always have the strength of will to argue with people about it, especially as confident as supporters of the invasion were that weapons of mass destruction would be found.

After a certain amount of time had passed and it became clear that the pretext for the invasion — the alleged existence of those weapons of mass destruction — was based on faulty information, public opinion began to sour on the war. But I think it is important to remember that a lot of people supported the invasion initially — including Hillary Clinton, the presumptive Democratic nominee for president in 2016 — no matter how much they may pretend otherwise today.

Mrs. Clinton wasn't the only Democrat who voted to authorize George W. Bush to use force against Iraq. When the Senate voted on Oct. 11, 2002, 29 of 50 Democrats joined 48 Republicans in a 77–23 vote giving Bush the authority he sought. Her colleague from New York, Chuck Schumer, voted to authorize the use of force. So did Joe Biden and Dianne Feinstein and Harry Reid.

In my lifetime, I have had the opportunity to vote for national tickets with a Bush on them half a dozen times. I have never voted for one and, if Jeb is nominated next year, it will make seven times I have refused to lend my support to a Bush in a national campaign.

But I find myself sympathizing — to an extent — with his recent stumble on the question of invading Iraq.

Fox News' Megyn Kelly asked him, "Knowing what we know now, would you have authorized the invasion?"

Bush tried to answer a different question. "I would've, and so would've Hillary Clinton, just to remind everybody, and so would have almost everybody that was confronted with the intelligence they got."

He kind of got back to what Kelly was getting at when he elaborated: "In retrospect, the intelligence that everybody saw, that the world saw, not just the United States, was faulty. And in retrospect, once we … invaded and took out Saddam Hussein, we didn't focus on security first. And the Iraqis, in this incredibly insecure environment, turned on the United States military because there was no security for themselves and their families."

Kelly was dealing in hypotheticals, and what Bush should have said — but, obviously, did not — was that he won't answer hypothetical questions. I'm an amateur historian, and what–if is the kind of game historians love to play. But it is a game that really cannot be won because the past is what it is. It's no trick to look back on a bad decision and know it was a mistake, but human beings are not blessed with the ability to see the future. If they were, I guess many would not marry the people they married or invest in companies that go belly up.

Or bet on the wrong horse at the racetrack.

There seems to be an impression among many Americans these days that a president must be infallible, that he must be capable of all things — including superhuman stuff like seeing the future. But anyone who looks for an infallible leader, someone around whom everyone can rally, is just asking to be disappointed. In the life of every presidency, there will be those who think the president does everything right and those who think the president does everything wrong — and everyone else who falls in between those two extremes. To misquote Abraham Lincoln, you can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time, but you can't please all the people all the time.

A president can only act within the reality of his times — and hope, at the end of the day, that he made the right decision. Seems to me that the best presidents have been the ones who second–guessed themselves and tried to learn from each decision they made — and the worst presidents were the ones who would not admit to having made a mistake.

If one is going to answer Kelly's question, though, it would have to be something like this: "In hindsight, it was a mistake to invade Iraq." That's it. Bush's inclination to defend his brother is admirable, but it does not have to be part of his answer to that question.

It can be the answer to another question if it is asked. He is right when he observes that a president must act on the information he has. But that is not the question that was asked. So don't answer it.

Better still, though, not to answer hypothetical questions at all. Politicians can't win hypotheticals, and politicians always want to play games they can win. Hypotheticals require proving a negative, and that cannot be done.

One time, I saw illusionist Penn Jillette talking about Nostradamus' prophecies that supposedly predicted Napoleon and Hitler and many other events that occurred long after his death. Jillette complained that the prophecies, which were apparently written in a deliberately obscure way, never named names, places or dates. What good is that, he wanted to know, if we want to prevent or avoid a certain event?

It's a fair point.

Let me ask you something. If time travel was possible, and you could go back in time, would you kill an infant Adolf Hitler sleeping in his crib? It is safe to say, I believe, that nazism would not have seized control of Germany without a charismatic leader at the helm. Snuffing out an infant who, knowing what we know now, grew up to plunge the world into a war that claimed millions of lives could be seen as heroic.

But could you take the life of a baby? You might say now that you could, but, when the chips were down, you might find it incredibly difficult to kill a small child, even knowing that, by doing so, you could save millions of others.

In the two decades between his resignation and his death, Richard Nixon might have said that, in hindsight, having the taping system installed in the Oval Office was a mistake — but that would have been with the benefit of knowing how it eventually played out, producing the evidence that brought his presidency to an end. But when the system was installed, his motivation (ostensibly) was the preservation of the historical record.

As Dr. Phil would say, how did that work out for ya?

Thursday, April 23, 2015

A Glance at the Race for the White House



Each time we prepare to elect a president, there always seems to be someone seeking a party's nomination who sought it before but fell short. Most of the time, that candidate (or those candidates in especially active presidential election cycles) is said to be taking a different approach this time — presumably because the original approach failed the first time.

The message may be different, or the candidate may choose a different way to convey that message. The latter appears to be what Hillary Clinton is doing. "Clinton plans to forgo the packed rallies that marked her previous campaign," writes the Associated Press' Lisa Lerer, "and focus on smaller round-table events with selected groups of supporters."

Sometimes that is a good idea; other times, not so much. I am skeptical that it will help Clinton avoid questions about her email or acceptance of cash contributions from foreign governments seeking access while she was secretary of State. In the context of previous presidential campaigns, that isn't really surprising. It is frequently — but not always — difficult to know whether changing the message or how the message is presented is the right approach the second time around — until after the campaign is over.

By that time, of course, one need look no further than the election results to decide if the candidate (should he or she win the nomination) made the right choice. If it wasn't, there will be no shortage of scapegoats and other excuses in what boils down to a circular firing squad.

What is more certain these days is that it is difficult for a party to prevail in three consecutive national elections. Some people attribute that to fatigue with the incumbent party. Since the postwar era has coincided with the advent of television — which, in turn, has led to Americans having unprecedented access to a president's daily activities — that makes sense.

And I do think that plays a role in it, but I think it is more complex than that. Now, I'm going to lay a little groundwork here. I apologize in advance if it seems elementary.

There are two kinds of presidential election years — incumbent years and non–incumbent years. An incumbent year is when America has an incumbent president who is eligible to run for another term — and usually does. I think the last such incumbent who chose not to seek another term was Lyndon Johnson in 1968. Three other presidents in the 20th century made the decision not to seek another term when they legally could have — Theodore Roosevelt in 1908, Calvin Coolidge in 1928 and Harry Truman in 1952.

(Truman was president when the 22nd Amendment was ratified. He had served nearly two full terms by 1952, having succeeded Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1945, but the amendment made the specific point that it would not apply to whoever was president upon its ratification.)

Since we always have an incumbent, the matter of eligibility would seem to be the determining factor, but it isn't. LBJ's decision, which was largely the product of the public's increasingly sour mood about the war in Vietnam, not to seek another term as president instantly turned 1968 into a non–incumbent year. That's a year when the incumbent is not on the ballot in the general election, whether by choice or circumstance.

In recent times, non–incumbent years have tended to favor the nominee of the out–of–power party because those years have come when the incumbent usually is ineligible to seek another term.

It wasn't always that way. For whatever reason, it seems to have been largely a byproduct of World War II that parties almost never win three straight national elections. At least, that's when this pattern emerged. Before that, victories tended to come in bunches. Democrats won five straight elections between 1932 and 1948. The Republicans won the three elections prior to that — and 11 of 15 between 1860 and 1916.

Of course, it was after World War II ended when the 22nd Amendment limiting presidents to two full terms in office was ratified, and that was a game changer. Few presidents were tempted to seek a third term before the amendment was ratified, but it was always a possibility. Since the 22nd Amendment was ratified, it has been generally understood that, after winning his second term, a president gradually slips into irrelevance, essentially becoming a lame duck the day he takes the oath of office for the second time. Maybe that explains the pattern that has emerged in the last 67 years.

Since Harry Truman's "upset" victory in 1948, Americans have voted for the same party's nominees for president three straight times only once — in 1988 when Vice President George H.W. Bush was elected to succeed Ronald Reagan. Otherwise, it has been so predictable you could set your calendar by it.

Bush was helped by the fact that President Reagan was still popular after eight years in office — Gallup had Reagan at 51% approval just before the 1988 election — but the popularity of the incumbent does not necessarily help the nominee of the president's party.

Prior to the 2000 election, Bill Clinton's approval rating was between 59% and 62%. Clinton's vice president, Al Gore, narrowly won the popular vote but lost the electoral vote — in large part because he did not take advantage of Clinton's popularity and political skills during his campaign against George W. Bush.

Of course, if the incumbent's popularity is below 50%, his party's nominee to replace him is probably toast before the convention adjourns. George W. Bush's approval ratings were mostly in the 20s just before the 2008 election, which John McCain lost in a modest landslide.

And Lyndon Johnson's approval rating just before the 1968 election (42%) almost precisely mirrored Democratic nominee Hubert Humphrey's share of the popular vote — and 1968 turned out to be a cliffhanger but only because independent candidate George Wallace was on the ballot.

Monday, March 9, 2015

The Difference It Makes



"Tell people that there's an invisible man in the sky who created the universe, and the vast majority will believe you. Tell them the paint is wet, and they have to touch it to be sure."

George Carlin

Unless your lifestyle is a reclusive one, like that of the Unabomber — and, if it is, then you most likely aren't reading this, anyway — you're bound to have seen the TV commercial in which the deejay is posing as a financial advisor. He got his hair cut. He put on a nice suit, and he threw around some impressive–sounding financial terms. Then he asked some unsuspecting dupes if they would trust him to handle their retirement planning. They all said they would. Then he revealed the truth about himself. "I have no financial experience at all," he confessed.

The unsuspecting dupes really shouldn't have been all that unsuspecting, though. It's the kind of sleight–of–hand that magicians have been pulling for generations. Sometimes people really should be hesitant based on what they know — and what they don't know. Nevertheless, there are always people who fall for scams.

And there are those who make up their minds and won't change, come hell or high water. In the words of Simon and Garfunkel, a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.

In my experience, people — particularly Americans — are too quick to give a second chance — and a third one and a fourth one and, well, you get the picture — to those of whom we have ample reason to be skeptical. Most of us have been guilty of it at one time or another. For some, it's just the way they roll — all the time.

Sometimes we are rewarded for giving a second chance; but just as often, if not more, we are disappointed.

Now, in the case of one Hillary Rodham Clinton ...

Most Americans think they have spent a lot of time observing the Clintons, but I've got them beat. I lived in Arkansas before Bill ever won an election. I wasn't familiar with Hillary when she was a legal adviser to the House Judiciary Committee during its impeachment inquiry; it was after that that she agreed to marry Clinton and move to Arkansas. They were both in Little Rock by 1977; Bill was elected the state's attorney general in 1976. And that is when I — and, I suspect, most of the people in Arkansas — first became acquainted with Hillary.

From that point on, Bill was a fixture in Arkansas politics, and Hillary was often seen with him — not so much in his attorney general days but after that when he ran for governor. Statewide officials were elected to two–year terms in those days, and governors sort of lived with the fact that, unless they were stepping down voluntarily in the next election cycle, they pretty much had to spend half of each term running for office. There was no season for raising money for those campaigns, either; fundraising was — and, I expect, still is — an ongoing process.

Arkansas changed that law in the mid–1980s. Statewide officers are elected to four–year terms today, but Bill and Hillary Clinton cut their political teeth on the old arrangement.

Anyway, having observed the Clintons for more than half my life, I've kind of gone beyond the point of being disappointed by anything they say or do.

Since we are all, to a great extent, the products of our experiences, it seems fair to assume that experience plays a significant role in the mindsets of both Clintons. Indeed, given their behavior in their political lives, it seems to be — to most reasonable people — a sight more than an assumption.
Hillary Clinton: With all due respect, the fact is we had four dead Americans.

Sen. Ron Johnson: I understand.

Clinton: Was it because of a protest or was it because of guys out for a walk one night who decided they'd go kill some Americans? What difference, at this point, does it make?

In the matter of the Clinton emails, Mrs. Clinton and her supporters want the country to focus on the fact that her people have already gone through the emails and decided which ones to release.

Is that sufficient?

As I recall, it wasn't sufficient 40 years ago when the subject of the congressional investigation in which Mrs. Clinton took part — you know, the one involving President Richard Nixon — offered to release certain White House tapes after they had been screened or edited transcripts of the tapes themselves. I can't say that I know what Hillary Rodham said or thought about that, but I do know what just about every Democrat — and some Republicans — said when Nixon tried to pull that one. They didn't go for it. Nixon went ahead and released edited transcripts, anyway, but they were ridiculed to such an extent that no one really gave them any credibility.

As I recall, when the subject of edited transcripts was first brought up by the White House, special prosecutor Archibald Cox rejected it, saying that transcripts "lack the evidenciary value of the tapes themselves."

(There was something Nixonian in the way Barack Obama insisted he had learned of Hillary's private email through news reports. That, of course, is how Nixon claimed he had learned of the Watergate break–in.)

And now Hillary Clinton reaches into Nixon's playbook. But summaries of her email correspondences — or release of certain emails that were selected by Hillary and/or her staff — lack the evidenciary value of the emails themselves.

Of course, there is more to this than merely the resemblance to a long–ago scandal. There is the question of cyber security. In recent years, we have seen how easily the computer files of huge retail outfits can be hacked and private information can be compromised.

Doesn't that make it even more important that Americans be completely assured that the communications of the secretary of state — whose email correspondence may very well have contained sensitive classified information — cannot be intercepted?

What assurance can they have from a privately run server that sufficient security is in place?

We live in perilous times. It shouldn't be necessary to remind people of that, with all the grisly images we have seen on our TV screens — beheadings, people being burned alive and tossed from buildings — but, nevertheless, there are people who will ignore the facts.

Those are the people who will tell you that ISIS and its allies there in the Middle East are savages, primitive, medieval at best. And I will concede that they follow medieval texts and dress in medieval ways — and, most importantly, they think medieval thoughts. But that does not mean that they turn a blind eye to modern technology. They don't like the modern world, but they know that they must use the tools of the modern world if they are to defeat it. Osama bin Laden and his lieutenants turned modern technology against America in 2001, hijacking airplanes and using computers for all sorts of purposes — communicating with each other, financial transactions, reserving seats on the doomed airplanes.

Why should we think that modern jihadists would behave any differently?

We've heard the stories of their active efforts to recruit people from the West. Doesn't it make sense that they would be looking for people who know how to hack computer systems? It wouldn't surprise me if they already have recruited such people.

It wouldn't really matter where they were, either — although I am quite sure there are already sleeper cells across this country waiting for their orders. Computer hackers can be anywhere. As long as they can connect to the internet, they can go about their business.

What guarantee do we have that Mrs. Clinton's emails, which were not under the protection of the government, were not hacked while she was in office? Oh, I know, there are no guarantees anymore. But it still seems — to me — to be an inexcusable temptation of fate to obsessively control one's email records instead of doing as the law requires.

Fact is, under the law, Mrs. Clinton's email correspondence while secretary of state does not belong to her. Regardless of what it was — a highly sensitive official email to a foreign ally or a personal email to an old friend — it is the property of the U.S. government.

Upon entering office, a president swears to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution. That means following the laws of the land.

Mrs. Clinton asks her audiences these days, "Don't you want to see a woman president of the United States?"

My answer to that is — yes. But I want it to be the right woman for the job. Not just any woman.

And the right woman for the job will not have a history of playing by the rules of her choosing, thoughtlessly putting others at risk. It is the same standard I apply to any man seeking the presidency.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Looking Ahead to 2016



Bet you thought that, once the midterms were over, we'd get a reprieve from politics for awhile. Well, you were wrong! At best, all you get is a chance to catch your breath.

America's political pendulum is always swinging. Sometimes the swing is so modest you need a microscope to see it. Other times it swings wildly. In recent years, both parties have made the mistake of misreading election results and assuming they had longer–term implications than they had. Success is fleeting in American politics.

The midterm election was held in early November. By Thanksgiving, I had already read/heard several reports about people who were considering seeking their parties' nominations; then, Jeb Bush put his foot to the gas pedal and accelerated the process. Interested parties need to jump in soon, or all the resources in money and advisers will get locked in for Bush.

As it stands, 2016 will be a non–incumbent year, which means both parties' nominations are up for grabs. Technically speaking, that is. At this point in the process, it's still mostly a name recognition contest. Bush has the name — which isn't as toxic as it was a few years ago — and he's been grabbing up the money and the people even though few people outside of Florida know much more about him than the fact that he is the son of one president and the brother of another.

That was enough for 2012 nominee Mitt Romney, I guess. Romney wisely withdrew yesterday.

I didn't get to see his announcement, but it sounded like an impression of Marlon Brando in "On the Waterfront."

Recent polls showed him in the lead, he said, particularly in the states whose primaries come early in the calendar, and he was "convinced" he could have won the nomination a second straight time — something no non–incumbent candidate in either party has been able to do since Adlai Stevenson.

("I coulda been a contendah.")

Once these guys (and gals) get the fever and start looking at themselves in the mirror each morning and imagining "Hail to the Chief" being played when he/she enters a room, the only cure for it seems to be the grave. Maybe it's an addiction. I don't know. But the word addiction has been expanded considerably in recent years. I wouldn't be surprised if politicians are prime prospects for addiction. Many already have addictions of other kinds as well, and being a narcissist almost seems like a key component of a politician's DNA.

I believe Romney is a sincere, well–meaning man who allowed himself to be defined by his opposition. Those things happen in campaigns. Both parties have done it so neither party is innocent; no point in pointing fingers on that one. There's plenty of blame to go around. The bottom line is, once you have been defined by the opposition, it is even more difficult to prevail the next time. To a great extent, Romney had been defined within his own party by his previous campaign for the nomination and by the opposition party in the general election.

Recent speculation of which issues Romney would choose to champion this time seemed to revive the old stereotypes of Romney as elitist, cold and calculating. It reminded me of what I heard when I was a child during Richard Nixon's comeback campaign of 1968. The emphasis was on the new Nixon. Nixon was always reinventing himself, and Romney has slipped into that mode as well.

But he resisted its lure. Good for him. It was the smart thing to do, and it most likely closes the door on his presidential ambitions. If the 2016 GOP nominee fails to win the election, Romney would be 73 in 2020. That isn't too old to win the nomination, but, historically speaking, it is too old to win the election. But my guess is he will continue to hear "Hail to the Chief" when he looks in the mirror each morning.

Barack Obama is barred by law from seeking a third term so, unless he issues an executive order repealing the 22nd Amendment, the Democrats will need a new nominee. Conventional wisdom insists it will be Hillary Clinton.

Really, how often does the frontrunner win the nomination? (I am speaking, of course, about non–incumbent presidential elections. Incumbents are rarely challenged for the nomination if they decide to seek another term — and even more rarely are those challenges serious.)

In the last 40 years, I suppose it has happened more often on the Republicans' side than on the Democrats' — Romney, John McCain (2008), George W. Bush (2000), Bob Dole (1996), George H.W. Bush (1988), Ronald Reagan (1980) and Gerald Ford (1976) all were frontrunners. The narrative on the Republican side was that the nominee always was the runnerup the last time the nomination was up for grabs. That hasn't always been the case, but it has been close to it for nearly 40 years. And those frontrunners almost always faced viable challengers from within before claiming the nomination.

Democrats have been more freewheeling. Hillary Clinton was the frontrunner heading into the primaries and caucuses of 2008 but lost to Obama, a newcomer to the national stage. The argument can be made that the nominees in 2004 (John Kerry) and 2000 (Al Gore) were frontrunners when the primaries began, but they, too, had to fend off challenges.

Clinton's husband was lightly regarded when his 1992 campaign began, but Mario Cuomo decided not to run, and Bill Clinton emerged from a pack of supposedly second–tier candidates dubbed "the Dwarfs."

Heading into 1988, Gary Hart — an insurgent challenger from 1984 — was regarded as the frontrunner until his campaign imploded. Michael Dukakis emerged from a group of largely unknown candidates to win the nomination.

Hart's insurgent candidacy made things uncomfortable for former Vice President Walter Mondale, the original frontrunner who went on to win the nomination. Mondale's former boss, Jimmy Carter, first won the nomination as an unknown riding a populist wave. Four years before that, the extreme left wing of the Democrat Party seized the nomination in the person of George McGovern.

Hillary Clinton may well go on to win the nomination, but she will have to overcome the problems we already know about — she really wasn't a very good candidate the last time, and her recent public remarks suggest that a lifetime in the public eye hasn't taught her much about diplomacy, her years as secretary of State notwithstanding.

What's more, there are rumblings about members of the liberal base pressing for Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren to seek the nomination. Not surprisingly, Clinton has been trying to improve her standing with the far left wing.

Historically, a non–incumbent presidential election has been an opportunity for both parties to write a new chapter in their history. Unfortunately, it appears that both parties are taking a trajectory that seems likely to give both nominations to dynastic retreads.