Once upon a time, when I was a skinny, bewildered college
student, I met a professor who was so impossibly brilliant that he spawned an
entire series of semi-mythical tales about his grasp of the most arcane details
in the most obscure disciplines. This
man had met everyone, read everything, married a stunningly beautiful (and
accomplished) woman, and lived in a great big house surrounded by books and
objects he collected from his travels and his interests. 40 years later, my friends and I still laugh
by recalling the classic (probably apocryphal, but you never know) “I happen to have Cervantes in my closet, and
every once in a while I take him out and we talk….”
I am a Lincoln man myself, so I think I would prefer to spend
a few minutes reaching for windmills instead of tilting at them, but there is
something to going back to the classics to ground you in observing the
present. Besides, Abe had a sense of
humor. Which, he would need, if he were
to observe the latest Republican primary debate.
Last week, the Republican aspirants for President, having
been groomed, and sprayed, and polished, and buffed, trundled on to a stage in
Colorado, and engaged in one of silliest and most insipid arguments (I would
not elevate it to an actual debate) in recent memory. If you can recall a single answer of any
substance whatsoever, you are much better than I am. Here is the sum of the
entire exercise: Topics covered in
detail—none. Marco and Ted up, Jeb down.
Donald calmer, Ben Zen, Chris a bit better, Carly a bit worse. Kasich over-caffeinated. Moderators and
format—a disaster.
What were we expecting?
Primary debates might be seen as the gladiatorial undercard before they
bring out the Christians and lions part, but they still serve a purpose—we do
learn things. Sometimes, we find someone new to appreciate, or find ourselves
disillusioned with an old favorite. Occasionally, there’s a monumental
gaffe--Rick Perry destroyed himself, apparently permanently, with one
brain-freeze in 2012.
Logistics often make it hard, because of the large number of
unknown variables and the expected size of the field. The candidate’s chances to shine are then
further limited simply by the amount of time they are allotted. They may have prepared all these killer
lines, but have no opportunity to insert them.
Often they will fling themselves into something, grabbing the mike, looking
awkward and even a little desperate. The
bigger the field, the louder the personalities, the more critical the atmosphere
in the room is—and the more critical the moderators are. Someone has to take charge, politely, but
firmly, and manage all those egos.
Last week was a primer in moderator-failure. Let’s make it a given that politicians don’t
like being embarrassed, and certainly don’t like being pressed for answers they
don’t want to give. Layer on to that a
specific Republican trope that the mainstream media is always out to get them,
and you raise the bar substantially.
John Harwood, who is an excellent journalist, lost control, and his
supporting cast was worse. Candidates
outdid themselves in complaining about the questions, and slamming the
questioners. None of them were actually
interested in discussing issues—and none of them had to, because the crowd was
behind every denunciation.
CNBC’s failure opened the barn door wide, and the herd
stampeded through. The carefully
scripted approach that RNC Chairman Reince Priebus designed after Mitt Romney’s
loss in 2012—fewer debates, friendly venues, fewer opportunities to go off
script and offend, had already been tested by the bizarre rise of outsiders
like Trump and Ben Carson. What was more
concerning was the deep chord of anti-establishment anger that was reflected in
the polling numbers. The sheer weight of
Trump and Carson’s combined numbers were burying candidates the establishment
favored—and many of those were convinced they would have a real chance, if only
the gadflies would leave the field. The debates were supposed to show Trump and
Carson to be more like the fringe or niche candidates of 2012—Bachmann, Cain,
Santorum, Gingrich—flashes in the pan,
but without sustainable appeal beyond true believers. That just hasn’t happened, in part because
of the pervasive stream of nihilism, but also because the debates have not yet
reached the level of granularity on the issues that would expose Trump and
Carson’s lack of substance.
The candidates, collectively, realized that on Tuesday. Having a free-for-all made personalities the
only thing that mattered. They needed to
wrest control of their images back from both the RNC, and from the
moderators. Debates should be what
Priebus wanted—extended advertisements for the Republican brand. But that wasn’t going to be accomplished by
accepting the ground-rules that others set—particularly with the wild card of
questioners who weren’t fully supportive of Republican goals.
The campaigns made their discontent known, and Priebus
acted. He “fired” NBC from their next
debate—which had the added benefit of also omitting Telemundo, the
Spanish-speaking network that few (Jeb being the notable exception) wanted to
include in the first place. Still, that
wasn’t enough, so the campaigns called a meeting to discuss the issue—and
Reince was not invited.
“Facilitating” was Republican lawyer and fixer Ben Ginsberg
(he was critical in the Florida recount crisis in the 2000 Bush-Gore
race). Ginsberg drew up a list of
demands, meant both for the RNC and for any network that wished to televise a
future debate. They are astonishing in
their scope—from what amounts to prior question review and
approval, to explicit threats to exclude a network if they are unsatisfied with
responses before a debate, or performance at a debate, to even questions of
camera angles, room temperature, and how bathroom breaks are covered. Expressly forbidden are lightening rounds,
reaction shots, asking candidates to raise their hands, and anything that
looks, smells, or tastes like a “gotcha” question.
Will it work? That is
an awfully good question. Some of the
campaigns have pointed out that the networks make very good money on what
amounts to an odd takeoff on a reality show.
They see themselves like the creators of content—not unlike the NFL—who
should hold great sway over how the product is presented. The networks
may have opinions as to what journalism is and what it is not, but they
are businesses first and last, and the prospect of all those dollars re-directed to
Murdoch-land may not be all that appealing.
The jury is out—this may all be a lot of sound and fury with
no substantive changes—but I think there is real muscle here. Trump is making
noises about not appearing in any debate with Telemundo, and Ted Cruz has
suggested that only people who have voted in a Republican primary be permitted
to act as a moderator during a Republican debate.
Maybe Cruz is right. Time
to see if we can dial up Abraham Lincoln?
Not exactly an expert on TV, but a crackerjack debater, and a
Republican. I wonder how he’d feel about
moderating.
As to Cervantes, perhaps not. But, perhaps I’m judging too quickly. His
fiction-writing ability might come in handy.
And, he was imprisoned by pirates for five years. It’s a start.
Editor's Note: As of 10PM on Tuesday, November 3, six campaigns, Bush, Christie, Cruz, Kasich, Trump, and Fiorina have said they won't sign the Ginsberg Letter
Editor's Note: As of 10PM on Tuesday, November 3, six campaigns, Bush, Christie, Cruz, Kasich, Trump, and Fiorina have said they won't sign the Ginsberg Letter
November 3, 2015
Michael Liss (Moderate Moderator)
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