The Medium is the President

The best thing that has happened to the Hillary Clinton campaign so far is Bill Clinton’s book tour. Perfect for them, just as the campaign season begins. He is really, really good on the stump—one of the best retail politicians ever. He can do folksy sincerity better than anyone. Fake that, and you have it made. Hillary’s strongest argument for being president is that if you vote for her, you also get Bill.

Except—there is a real danger that seeing Bill again may remind voters how different Hillary is in this regard. “I knew Bill Clinton. Bill Clinton was a friend of mine. And Hillary, you’re no Bill Clinton.” Clinton was and is hard to dislike. Now that he has no pressing need to lie, he is incredibly pleasant to listen to. Even his first Secret Service detail spotted that star quality—they gave him the code name “Elvis.” But Hillary? There is just something about her—a sweaty Nixonian, “not comfortable in her own skin” quality—that instinctively turns people off, even people who should support her ideologically.

I think this issue is extremely important to voters, in the end—more important than pundits seem to realize. And the people are right to consider it important. The US President, unlike a Canadian prime minister, is a symbol of the nation. Much of his effectiveness is based on his ability to sway public opinion—otherwise, he’s no more than a super-police-chief. Beyond vetoing it, he has no control over legislation. The “bully pulpit,” as Teddy Roosevelt put it, is the whole office.

This being so, it is important to the health of the US that the president be someone people enjoy seeing on their TV screens, and enjoy listening to. Someone with a “warm fuzzy” quotient. Bill Clinton has that. Hillary Clinton does not. She is somehow cold and sharp.

Cases in point: people trusted FDR’s voice on the radio. People loved the look of JFK on TV. Reagan had the skills of a seasoned actor, making him terribly hard to dislike: “the Teflon president.”

Counterexamples: Nixon, or Johnson, who were universally considered competent, but not personally likeable or physically attractive.

And their presidencies both ended in something like disaster.

Making it worse for Hillary, some others in the present race also have a lot of warm fuzzy quotient.

John Edwards, granted, is a bit too good-looking. People don’t like that. It makes them feel inadequate. Anne Coulter picked up on that. And all that stuff about haircuts, that’s what it’s really about. (Lucky for Bill Clinton that Monica Lewinsky was not especially good looking. Unlucky for Gary Hart that Donna Rice was). Better to have one or two obvious flaws, like Bill’s pudginess and bulbous nose. It helped Adlai Stevenson when he was photographed with a hole in his shoe, countering the general feeling that he was just too darned intelligent to be permitted to be president.


But Barack Obama? Get away. You just want him to succeed, with his eager schoolboy look. But not too good-looking: fortunately, he has big floppy ears.

There is a good chance, if he does not slip up, that he will wipe the floor with Hillarry in the primaries. If he does, he will be a much stronger candidate.

On the Republican side, Mitt Romney has the same problem as John Edwards. Too perfect. He even looks like George Washington. If he wants to be president, he needs to muss up his hair, wear his tie askew, and fart in public

Rudy Giuliani, with his Pinocchio nose and Obama ears, does not have Romney’s problems. And he is another real charmer—very like Bill Clinton in his style. New York folksy—a guy from the hood. John McCain also has formidable skills—he came very close to getting the Republican nomination in 2000 on sheer charm. Because of it, he is a real threat to be a “comeback kid,” like Clinton in 92. Charm lets you do that.

And Fred Thompson, of course, has the skills of a successful actor. Not to be sneezed at. A magnificent voice, an impressive height—the taller candidate almost always wins—and pleasantly ugly. Not too good looking, but expressive, fun to look at. (McCain suffers a bit here—his face is less expressive than it might be).

It is impossible to overestimate the importance of this warm fuzzy factor in an actual presidential election. Leaving aside all other considerations whatsoever, and running through all the presidential elections since the Second World War, the more likeable candidate almost always wins.

1948: Truman versus Dewey—Dewey, famously, was doomed by his moustache. Made him look sinister.

1952: Eisenhower versus Stevenson—as my father summarized it, Eisenhower came across as a regular guy, Stevenson as an “egghead.” So he voted Eisenhower.

1956: Stevenson was still an egghead.

1960: Kennedy versus Nixon—as we all know, Kennedy looked better on TV.

1964: Johnson versus Goldwater—this one really tests the thesis. Johnson was not likeable, and as I remember Goldwater, he was. Yet Johnson won in a historic landslide. Why?

There was a catch in Goldwater’s voice, which gave it a harsh and even a desperate-sounding quality. This was crystallized in the public consciousness as a suspicion he might actually be deranged. “In your guts, you know he’s nuts.”

1968: Nixon versus Humphrey—okay, Nixon was not likeable, but nobody in their right mind could have handled listening to Humphrey’s squeaky voice for four years.

1972: Nixon versus McGovern—McGovern’s voice was even more annoying than Humphrey’s. There was something wrong with his adenoids or his testicles, surely.

1976: Ford versus Carter—close call. Both were generally likeable. But Ford got an image for being bumbling. People start laughing at you, not with you, you lose the gravitas for being president.

1980: Carter versus Reagan—no contest. Reagan could pretty well mop the floor with anyone on personal likeability and stage presence. Meantime, Carter’s constant smile could only work for so long before it started to grate. You kind of wanted to plant your fist in his face after a while.

1984: Reagan versus Mondale. Nobody could stand up to Reagan. But Mondale also has a bit of a pip-squeak to his voice. Must be a Minnesota thing.

1988: Bush I versus Dukakis—close call, on the face of it. But perhaps by bad luck, Dukakis got filmed looking very goofy in a tank, and that image killed him. People start laughing at you, you’re toast. The Willie Horton thing mostly just underlined the impression that Dukakis was a lightweight. But in the end, didn’t this also have a lot to do with his lack of physical stature next to the gangling Bush? A little guy for a big job?

1992: Bush I versus Clinton—Elvis has entered the building. Bush looked wooden by contrast.

1996: Clinton versus Dole—Dole looked a bit like Nixon—too much five o-clock shadow. This made him look sinister. Too much edge to his voice, and too sharp a tongue. He always sounded a bit sarcastic.

2000: Gore versus Bush II—Gore looked like an inflated balloon; he did not know where to put his hands. Bush came across as a regular guy.

2004: Bush II versus Kerry—as above. Wheezing and whining and a doleful face—who wants that on their TV for four years? Who wants a mortician for president?


I think, based on this, you can pretty much predict the outcome of the presidency now. If the Democrats nominate Hillary Clinton, she will lose to any likely Republican nominee. If they nominate Obama, it will be a close contest against anyone on the Republican side.

For the Republicans, Thompson is probably their strongest choice--unless his acting skills fail him to the point of actually looking like an actor playing a part.