Bob Schwartz

Category: Politics

Barack and Mitt: The Most Unpopular Candidates in American History


This is an unprecedented Presidential campaign. Just ask the Social Security Administration.

The SSA keeps track of baby names, a database that goes back to 1879. It just released its list of the 1000 most popular male and female names for 2011—Jacob to Armani to Ethen (sic), Sophia to Francesca to Damaris. None of that necessarily matters for the Presidential race.

What does matter is this: Never in American history have both major party candidates for the Presidency had names that were not among the 1000 most popular—ever.

In 2008 it was easy to surmise that one name (not John) had never made it to the Top 1000, and Barack still hasn’t. But this year’s race includes two overwhelmingly unpopular names.

Romney’s real first name Willard has made appearances on the chart: the last time in 1989 when it was #966, and it reached its highest position in 1915 (#58). But that isn’t the name he has ever used. The name Mitt is nowhere to be found.

The Presidential names (including candidates) you think might not make the list do. Woodrow, last seen in 1983 (#954), went from #234 in 1911 to #44 in 1913, Wilson’s first year in office. Ike bounced around the middle to bottom of the pack from the 19th century on, but at least it is on the list, finally falling off the Top 1000 in 1957 (while Ike was still in office). Rutherford always struggled, giving up in 1905 at #910. Even Newt had its day (though not much of one), appearing near the bottom between 1880 and 1907.

But no Barack. And no Mitt.

Does this have any consequence? As for any correlation between electoral success and relative name popularity—at the time of election or at some significant life stage for voters—there is no consistent pattern, no seeming name advantage.

All we know is this: There has never been an election between two candidates with such unusual and unpopular names. Just one more element in an election unlike any other.

The First [Description Here] President

You’re every President
It’s all in you.
(apologies to Ashford & Simpson and Chaka Khan)

It all began when Maya Angelou dubbed Bill Clinton “the first black President.” This proved awkward when the real first black President, Barack Obama, took office. But when politics meets media, too much is never enough, and so the meme took hold.

This week Barack Obama was cover-featured in Newsweek as “The First Gay President.” That was followed today by Dana Milbank in the Washington Post suggesting that Obama may be, in a way, the first female President. Previous coverage had tagged Obama “The First Jewish President.”

To keep things actual, President Obama is not Jewish, or gay, or female. He has indeed been known to wear a kipa. He has not been known to wear a halo, rainbow or any other color.

Keeping it further factual, he is also the first biracial President, the first Hawaiian President, the first Grammy-winning President, and so on. If you’re positively inclined, you might also add that he may be the first 21st century President, if you relegate George W. Bush to a prior century’s worldview. If negatively inclined, there are plenty of choices: the first non-American President, the first Muslim President, the first Socialist/Communist President, etc.

Why stop there? Neither politics nor media is always that tethered to reality, so let your imagination run wild (i.e., make stuff up). Simply choose a descriptor and plug it in. Warning: No matter how whimsical and fantastic the results may seem, some of those who oppose Barack Obama will likely pick up on them and treat them as real. Please whimsicize responsibly.

The President’s Commission on Campus Unrest: A 1970 Manifesto of Hope

These first weeks of May mark events in 1970 unlike any in American history. Along with the most tragic consequence, an almost forgotten document of that time offers an eloquent statement of hope—for then and for now.

On April 30, President Richard Nixon announced the U.S. bombing of Cambodia as an escalation of the Vietnam War. Student protests and strikes swept colleges across the country. On May 4, National Guard troops at Kent State University shot at students, killing four and wounding nine. Protests and demonstrations expanded, and within the week hundreds of campuses were affected or closed down. Then ten days after Kent State, on May14, black students and other demonstrators at Jackson State College in Mississippi engaged with city and state policemen. Two students were killed and at least twelve were wounded.

Only a few weeks later, President Nixon established the President’s Commission on Campus Unrest on June 13, 1970. The Commission was chaired by William Scranton, former Pennsylvania Governor, and issued its report in October 1970.

Defining events have a half-life. Time passes, people pass, and more immediate crises displace the old. There are round-number anniversaries, and these events did get a boost from the fortieth anniversary a couple of years ago. Even when they are remembered, the visceral actuality and meaning get lost. If the event is at all controversial, it may be better to avoid the reminders completely and not have to deal with still-unsettled topics and themes. An example of this was the virtual silence surrounding last year’s 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War. That could have been a platform for discussing so many issues—race, state’s rights, etc.—but we were understandably too busy trying to fix a broken national and world economy.

Maybe it is not surprising then that the 1970 report on campus unrest is so little mentioned or sought and so hard to find, even in this age of digital archives. It is worth reading, and not just as an historical artifact. President Nixon and others in his circle believed that colleges had become the breeding ground not just for opposition to the Vietnam War but for virulent and violent un-Americanism/anti-Americanism.

He hoped that the Commission would support this view of America. He got some of that, with conclusions that there were a minority of strident academics and students who, well-meaning or not, had created an environment of intolerance where discord and violence were the inevitable outcomes.  This the report called a “Crisis of Violence.”

But the Commission also found what it called a “Crisis of Understanding.” This moderate and idealistic analysis was not what President Nixon had in mind. It is an unbearably eloquent statement of aspiration and progress that could be written today—not in spite of the specifics being so different, but in their being so much of the moment.

From the introduction:

The crisis on American campuses has no parallel in the history of the nation. This crisis has roots in divisions of American society as deep as any since the Civil War. The divisions are reflected in violent acts and harsh rhetoric, and in the enmity of those Americans who see themselves as occupying opposing camps. Campus unrest reflects and increases a more profound crisis in the nation as a whole. This crisis has two components: a crisis of violence and a crisis of understanding.…

Behind the student protest on these issues and the crisis of violence to which they have contributed lies the more basic crisis of understanding. Americans have never shared a single culture, a single philosophy, or a single religion. But in most periods of our history, we have shared many common values, common sympathies, and a common dedication to a system of government which protects our diversity. We are now in danger of losing what is common among us through growing intolerance of opposing views on issues and of diversity itself. A “new” culture is emerging primarily among students. Membership is often manifested by differences in dress and life style. Most of its members have high ideals and great fears. They stress the need for humanity, equality, and the sacredness of life. They fear that nuclear war will make them the last generation in history. They see their elders as entrapped by materialism and competition, and as prisoners of outdated social forms. They believe their own country has lost its sense of human purpose. They see the Indochina war as an onslaught by a technological giant upon the peasant people of a small, harmless, and backward nation. The war is seen as draining resources from the urgent needs of social and racial justice. They argue that we are the first nation with sufficient resources to create not only decent lives for some, but a decent society for all, and that we are failing to do so. They feel they must remake America in its own image….

At the same time, many Americans have reacted to this emerging culture with an intolerance of their own. They reject not only that which is impatient, unrestrained, and intolerant in the new culture of the young, but even that which is good. Worse, they reject the individual members of the student culture themselves. Distinctive dress alone is enough to draw insult and abuse. Increasing numbers of citizens believe that students who dissent or protest, even those who protest peacefully, deserve to be treated harshly. Some even say that when dissenters are killed, they have brought death upon themselves. A nation driven to use the weapons of war upon its youth is a nation on the edge of chaos. A nation that has lost the allegiance of part of its youth is a nation that has lost part of its future.

We urgently call for reconciliation. Tolerance and understanding on all sides must reemerge from the fundamental decency of Americans, from our shared aspirations as Americans, from our traditional tolerance of diversity, and from our common humanity. We must regain our compassion for one another and our mutual respect. There is a deep continuity between all Americans, young and old, a continuity that is being obscured in our growing polarization. Most dissenting youth are striving toward the ultimate values and dreams of their elders and their forefathers. In all Americans there has always been latent respect for the idealism of the young. The whole object of a free government is to allow the nation to redefine its purposes in the light of new needs without sacrificing the accumulated wisdom of its living traditions. We cannot do this without each other. Despite the differences among us, powerful values and sympathies unite us. The very motto of our nation calls for both unity and diversity: from many, one. Out of our divisions, we must now recreate understanding and respect for those different from ourselves. Violence must end. Understanding must be renewed. All Americans must come to see each other not as symbols or stereotypes but as human beings. Reconciliation must begin. We share the impatience of those who call for change. We believe there is still time and opportunity to achieve change. We believe we can still fulfill our shared national commitment to peace, justice, decency, equality, and the celebration of human life. We must start. All of us.

Likeability and Political Forgiveness


In the most charming of political romantic comedies, The American President, an incandescently beautiful lobbyist (Annette Bening) chastises the handsome and liberal President (Michael Douglas), though not to his face:

The President has critically misjudged reality. If he honestly thinks that the environmental community is going to whistle a happy tune while rallying support around this pitifully lame mockery of environmental leadership just because he’s a nice guy and he’s done better than his predecessors, then your boss is the Chief Executive of Fantasyland.

The President is a very nice guy. He overhears this tirade, which leads to their meeting cute, having sex in the White House, splitting up, getting back together, and living happily ever after, romantically and politically. All is forgiven.

Everyone agrees that likeability matters. There is an apparent likeability gap between President Obama and Mitt Romney. Under normal circumstances, relative likeability is a solid predictor of Presidential outcomes. But these are anything but normal times. There are plenty of world-class doctors who are personality challenged, and given the choice between the one you would have a beer with and the one who can keep you alive, there isn’t much choice.

Still, likeability provides something that other characteristics cannot: room for forgiveness. That is why likeability matters, in politics and elsewhere. Everyone screws up, and the willingness of others to get over or past that is essential. Without denying his substantial talents and achievements, Bill Clinton survived on his likeability more than once. In the much darker and non-romantic comedy Primary Colors, based on Joe Klein’s roman a clef about pre-Presidential Bill Clinton, the candidate’s close friend and no-bullshit confidant, played by Kathy Bates, sums up the Peck’s Bad Boy of politics:

Now what kind of shit is that, Jack? Oh, excuse me. I forgot. It’s the same old shit. The shit no one ever calls you on, ever. Because you are so completely fucking special! Because everyone was always so proud of you. Me, too. Me, the worst.

Likeability matters because it makes you special, at least long enough to get beyond the worst of it. As President Obama confessed early on, he is not a perfect man, and would not be a perfect President. He hasn’t been, but who can be? The judgment depends on just how badly imperfect you are and how much people will forgive. That’s the well we all go to, and likeability keeps the well filled—at least for a while. Mitt Romney is not a perfect man or a perfect candidate. At some point, he will likely have to go to the well of likeability and forgiveness. We wonder whether there will be anything there when he does.

Performers in Chief

Every President, every aspirant, every high-profile politician is a performer. They are the epitome of T.S. Eliot’s “prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet” (or that may vote for you).

There is no moral measure in this, any more than there is for fish swimming or birds flying. The measure instead is the roles they choose to play, how well they play them, how suited they are to play them, and ultimately how the performance plays with the audiences.

Even playing yourself is a form of performance, sometimes the most challenging. Washington, Lincoln, FDR, all were who they seemed to be, just in a public way that channeled, focused, and amplified that actuality. It was only partly Reagan’s policies that got him overwhelmingly elected and keeps him in the national consciousness; it’s that he created and played an unforgettable Presidential role that even his skeptics admit was masterful. On the other end, we have many moments of miscasting, as in Michael Dukasis’s misbegotten moment playing a warrior in a tank.

President Obama was on the Jimmy Fallon show last night. We may have had other performers in the office who were as affable, funny, and smooth, but in the young twenty-first century, there are none who can hit the perfect note at the nexus of presidential gravity and free-spirited playfulness. The President slow jammed the news, working in his message about attempts to double the interest rate on Stafford college loans.

Older viewers, who may fondly remember candidate Richard Nixon’s few seconds on Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In in 1968 (“Sock it to ME?”), might think that Obama goes too far—in this and his many “cool” appearances. But Nixon’s performance was more than forty years ago, and audiences and sensibilities have changed. We may not want a President who is one of us, but we may want a President who chooses to act in a way that demonstrates he knows what time it is and who we are—and one who can pull it off naturally.

Up to this point, Mitt Romney seems to be one of the most reluctant and least effective performers we’ve had running for President. This doesn’t mean there won’t be improvement, but it will have to come from him or his handlers recognizing the basics: choose the roles appropriate for yourself and your intended audiences, and then play the roles effectively. One of Romney’s challenges is sometimes called flip-flopping or more recently etch-a-sketching. But the real challenge is that Romney has not chosen any roles to play, and he is struggling to even play the default role—himself—effectively. Romney has little experience as a performer, since many business positions don’t require it. It’s time for him to learn.

Until Romney decides to pick some appropriate roles and learn how to perform them, it will be an uphill race for him. Likeability has become the shorthand index for predicting electoral success. But it is something more, less subject to measure, but still very clear. The best performers often win the Presidency. In a campaign, and in office, you don’t just be the President, you play the President.

Chuck Colson: Teshuvah and Woody Allen


Chuck Colson (1931-2012) died this past weekend. His ruthless loyalty to Richard Nixon led to his central role in the Watergate scandal and to time in prison. That experience in turn led to his rebirth as an Evangelical Christian and to a lifetime of writing books (23 of them) and of helping the least among us—prisoners and others—to achieve fuller and better lives, at least by Colson’s religious lights.

If many were turned off by Colson’s politics before his conversion, it was not always easier after. Some questioned his sincerity. Others wondered whether any amount of transformation, however sincere, could balance his responsibility for helping to bring our democracy to its knees. Others saw the politics of his Christianity to be as socially destructive as the politics of his pre-Christian ruthlessness.

Two notes about Chuck Colson.

His first book Born Again (1976) is distinguished from all other books by participants in Watergate, from Nixon down through all his men. Most readers with particular political or religious inclinations didn’t read the book then, and even fewer do now. It is a compelling, candid, sincere confession of malfeasance and faith. Whether Colson’s work of the past forty years is to your liking or loathing, if you believe in the possibility of turning—in Hebrew, teshuvah—then you should believe in this. Personal transformation is not limited to those we approve of.

The second note is that Chuck Colson was a big Woody Allen fan. This was revealed last fall in an article  by Washington Post religion writer Michele Boorstein. Theories of humor and religion aside, this really isn’t hard to understand. Funny and smart is funny and smart, and this is probably something Colson appreciated. There’s no evidence that Colson and Allen ever met (though Boorstein did uncover a tape of Allen interviewing Billy Graham!). If they had, maybe they would have shared their experiences and views about the power of turning and confession for everyone, including artists and political operatives.

Mitt Romney, Ted Nugent and Chevy Chase

The recent silliness regarding Ted Nugent’s endorsement of Mitt Romney, followed by Nugent’s seeming threats to kill the current President, brought to mind a classic movie moment involving Ted Nugent and another rich guy.

It wasn’t actually Ted Nugent. It was Chevy Chase in Fletch. In the movie, Fletch/Chevy Chase is a smart-mouthed investigative reporter who regularly cracks wise by using ridiculous names. In this scene, Fletch is disguised as a beach bum, and businessman Alan Stanwyk (played by Tim Matheson) offers him a deal:

Stanwyk: Excuse me. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.

Fletch: What’s that?

Stanwyk: We can’t talk about it here.

Fletch: Why not?

Stanwyk: Because we can’t.

Fletch: You on a scavenger hunt, or did I forget to pay my dinner check?

Stanwyk: Come to my house to talk.

Fletch: Wrong gal, fella.

Stanwyk: I’ll give you cash.

Fletch: What?

Stanwyk: Come to my house and listen to the proposition. If you reject the proposition, you keep the thousand…and your mouth shut.

Fletch: Does this entail my dressing up as Little Bo Peep?

Stanwyk: It’s nothing of a sexual nature.

Fletch: Yeah.

Stanwyk: One thousand just to listen? How can you pass that up, Mister…

Nugent. Ted Nugent.

Stanwyk: Alan Stanwyk.

Fletch: Alan, charmed. For an extra grand, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.

There’s no reason to believe that the one conversation between Mitt Romney and Ted Nugent went anything like this. Mitt Romney is much richer than the fictional Alan Stanwyk, and the fictional Fletch/real Chevy Chase is much funnier than Ted Nugent. But it is fascinating to speculate how that endorsement conversation really did go, and if it might have been as surreal as this.

Thinking about Fletch can’t help but bring to mind the scene where Fletch disrupts an American Legion meeting by singing an earnestly terrible version of our national anthem. And thinking about Chevy Chase can’t help but bring to mind National Lampoon’s Vacation and a dog being tied to the bumper of a station wagon. Idle thoughts, none of which have anything to do with Ted Nugent.

But if we were thinking about singing, Mitt Romney, and Ted Nugent, we might idly wonder which song—either Nugent or Amboy Dukes—Romney might choose the next time he sings or recites a song on the campaign trail (though it’s doubtful he ever will again).

Journey to the Center of the Mind (1968) was the biggest Amboy Dukes hit, but maybe the most interesting song on an album that combined blues and psychedelia was Why Is A Carrot More Orange Than An Orange?.  Mitt Romney will not sing or recite it, of course, but it would be a memorable and humanizing moment:

First the world,
Then boy then girl,
Six days it took in all.
In His image he designed us
With no thought of flaw.

Now the question of perfection
Lingers in my mind.
Why is a carrot more orange than an orange?
Why are you greener than green?
Why do we sometimes believe
In things we’ve never seen?
Never doubt what it’s about
And you’ll get along fine.
But thy seeing the true meaning
Proves you’ve got a mind.
My suggestion is inspection of humanity.

I see why the ground is lower than the sky
And why sound can penetrate your mind.
But why is a carrot oranger than an orange?
Oranger than an orange?
Oranger than an orange?

Thank you, Ted Nugent.

Could We Have Survived a Great Depression?

The Great Recession did not turn into a(nother) Great Depression, and the prospects of continuing towards prosperity, or at least less economic insecurity, seem good. The big question that we now have a limited luxury to ask is this: Could we have survived a Great Depression? The study of that question may be the most valuable we can make.

The Great Depression has spawned an industry for scholars, historians, and thinkers of all stripes, and that has been a good thing. Systems and people are seen truest at their moments of greatest stress, and hardly anything before or since qualifies

Looking at how we managed to survive the last Great Depression – whether it was leadership and action, the normal cycle correcting a horrific anomaly, the fortunate unfortunate impact of a global war, or all/none of the above – tells us something about how we might handle the next. A couple of small starting points:

Creativity matters. Dismissing creative civic solutions out of hand and out of political pique is something we can never afford, and in the worst times something we should never tolerate. Love him or hate him, FDR got boldly creative, pushing the bounds of constitutionality, convention, and common sense. But when things fall apart as they did, common sense is cold comfort. Herbert Hoover, who was in fact a man of civic accomplishment, lacked the boldness and sense of adventure needed for the unprecedented times.

The question is: At that moment in 2008, if things had gone from bad to worse, would there have been the will to be creative and to try things, even if that meant setting aside ideology and political advantage. The answer is that nothing at the time, and nothing today, tells us that there would have been.

Optimism matters. One of the latest political ads from Rick Santorum depicts a cautionary apocalyptic vision of Obama America, something straight out of the Book of Revelation. During the Great Depression, there was no need for a fanciful version of the Apocalypse; it was already there. Books, songs, and movies painted an accurate vision of hardship, but they also tried for uplift and hope. The best and smartest politicians realized that when the spirit of America was already broken, the last thing people needed was a reminder that things could and might yet get worse. Happy days might not have been there again, as the song said, but there was no point in saying that they never would.

So as with the dismissal of creative solutions, the question is, in the face of a 21st century Great Depression, whether today’s politicians could find a way to set aside the darkness and pessimism for a brighter vision of good times ahead, even if it meant faking optimism, even if it meant losing political advantage. There is little evidence of that.

Heritagecare

In 1989, Stuart Butler and others at the conservative Heritage Foundation laid the groundwork for Obamacare/Romneycare in the publication A National Health System for America. Chapter 2 by Butler, A Framework for Reform, outlines and explains “the key elements of a consumer-oriented, market-based, comprehensive health system for America.” Element #1 is “Every resident of the U.S. must, by law, be enrolled in an adequate health care plan to cover major health care costs.” (page 51):

The requirement to obtain basic insurance would have to be enforced. The easiest way to monitor compliance might be for households to furnish proof of insurance when they file their tax returns. If a family were to cancel its insurance, the insurer would be required to notify the government. If the family did not enroll in another plan before the first insurance lapsed and did not provide evidence of financial problems, a fine might be imposed.

In other words, a mandate.

Agree or disagree with the Heritage Foundation or this proposal, Butler deserves credit for putting together a cogent, well-written primer on health care history, a report on the shortcomings of the current system, and a set of well-reasoned and creative proposals.

But no good or at least well-intentioned deed goes unpunished. In the time since, and especially in the past year, Butler and others have taken pains to explain how this Heritage Foundation proposal isn’t Obamacare and, in any case, how the proposal has been misunderstood and misapplied. The document itself can still be found on the Heritage Foundation website, though it is not shown and linked as one of Stuart Butler’s documents.

No matter what is argued to the Supreme Court today, no matter what the Justices ultimately decide about the constitutionality of mandates, and no matter how the complicated political dance involving Obama, Romney, Obamacare, and Romneycare turns out, Heritagecare was there first. It is essential reading.

Microsoft and the Mobile OS Nomination

To spin a political metaphor, in the race for dominance in mobile OS, Microsoft is the candidate with the resources and the organization who can’t seem to close the deal.

It’s not that consumers don’t like Microsoft, although many don’t. It’s a complex of factors with this outcome: the race is down to two candidates – iOS and Android – and it is likely the two will dominate and coexist for a long time.

The field began with so many candidates now gone or barely hanging on, including WebOS, Symbian, and others. Microsoft remains confident it will be a major player. In so many of the other competitions, their sheer presence and heft has assured their victory. Windows has had to share a bit of the personal computing world with slicker, sexier Apple, not to mention the third-party Linux, the Ron Paul of OS. Along with that PC dominance came a near-monopoly on office productivity; for as many times as Microsoft remakes Office, each time more over-complex and confusing, it is still the standard. Even in browsers, where it appeared that IE would end up relegated to minority status, Microsoft could afford to hang in there and claw its way back. It has won more than it has lost, and believes it is entitled to stay in any race.

It may, therefore, be too early to completely count Microsoft out of the mobile OS race. It is partnering with Nokia, arguably the coolest phone maker on the planet (yes, maybe cooler than Apple), which is abandoning its long use of Symbian OS in favor of Windows. But as much as Microsoft puts into the effort, as many good reviews and fans as the Windows mobile OS wins over, it is too little too late.

Maybe in this case there is a “rule of two” for mobile app development and consumer adoption, rather than the usual rule of three. Developers have been willing to port their iOS apps to Android, though it remains a work in progress, as the differences between the OS continue to present challenges. Developers are already balking at adding a third version to the mix, given that Windows is also different and hasn’t yet demonstrated market share, if it ever will.

Two things we know about politics: the best candidate doesn’t always win, and money and organization may or may not be able to buy an election. Over the years, Microsoft has managed to push aside some very capable and innovative software. But that’s how it goes: the technology business isn’t “beanbag.” Maybe Microsoft has something really special to offer with Windows mobile OS. But millions of consumers may not care, and will never get the chance to find out.