When choosing a vice presidential running mate, presidential hopefuls seem to go down one of two competing avenues of thought. The first entails selecting someone who can serve as a confidant, a well-known voice on matters of national security policy; an elder statesman who can “take over” at a “moment’s notice,” as the bigwigs say. This type of VP choice is an attempt to select a hands-on administrative executive. It is a selection of reassurance.
Sen. Obama went down this path with his selection of Senate veteran Joe Biden, just as a young JFK picked the older Lyndon Johnson. Even George W. Bush chose Cheney, and, dare I remind, this was widely considered a great choice in 2000 (there was a time, believe it or not, after victory in the original Gulf War and before his rumored conversion to Satanism, where Dick Cheney was a universally respected and well-liked bipartisan figure, and considered one of the best Pentagon chiefs in our history).
The other avenue is to select the proverbial “future,” an apparent successor, a party heir (or heiress). This type of running mate is seen as a young, fresh face, which can please the base while generating excitement and party enthusiasm. Eisenhower picked a young Nixon, John Kerry selected boyish John Edwards, and Bush Sr. selected neophyte Dan Quayle.
In interest of full disclosure, I must confess I prefer the first mode of choosing a vice president over the second. The elder statesman route either compensates for a candidate’s weaknesses (as Biden does with Obama) or, as with Reagan and Bush Sr., could serve as a reinforcing message. The second path, the “young heir” route, brings with it far too many possibilities for failure. Sometimes, rarely, it works out (Clinton and Gore, Eisenhower and Nixon).
But most of the time, these “future president” vice presidential candidates come across as novice-like, figureheads of something they are supposed to be but not what they are. They either sink the candidacy of their running mate atop the ticket, or if elected, they end up serving their days in the vice presidency traveling to funerals of foreign heads-of-state – and, for some excitement, occasionally casting a deciding vote in Congress (whoopty-doo). They are usually out of the loop, outside the inner circle, and are almost never confided in by the cabinet. John Nance Garner, FDR’s first vice president, once famously characterized his job as “not worth a bucket of warm piss.”
For weeks, John McCain had been making steady progress against Barack Obama on a message of experience and readiness. McCain jokingly chided Obama’s celebrity status, mocking his popularity in Europe. He contrasted himself from Obama as the guy we know, the guy we can trust. And remarkably, according to polling data, his strategy was working. Considering this, I felt McCain would have (and should have) gone the “experience” route when selecting a running mate. Names like Mitt Romney and Tom Ridge were floated out; supposed long-shots like Rudy Giuliani were probably a higher possibility inside the McCain camp than we think (my personal preference).
In that context, that McCain went with a nationally unknown female governor – the second avenue, the young “future of the party” avenue – was a shock. It was a decision I felt was unwise and one I was not particularly pleased about.
So much for what I know (there’s a reason I am not a political advisor, and this is it). The selection of Sarah Palin for vice president, it seems, may just be one of the most significant and beneficiary running mate selections in American electoral history. It is often said that people never vote for a ticket based on the VP, but not since Lyndon Johnson brought Kennedy the necessary electoral votes to be elected to the White House have we had a running mate who has had such a swift and positive impact on the presidential race.
As each day passes, the purported negatives of the Palin selection dwindle and the positives enhance. The vicious blog rumors about Palin and her family are either private matters of minutia, or blatant falsehoods (cataloging this sorry episode in American journalism is an article in and of itself).
Likewise, the charge that she is “inexperienced” falls flat in the face of Sen. Obama’s own petite record. Mr. Obama has looked small and petty comparing his record, the presidential candidate, with Mrs. Palin’s, the vice presidential candidate. He has lowered himself to a debate he now realizes he does not want to have. This irony, coupled with some wise cracks from the Obama camp, along with the unfair treatment of Palin in the media and press, has backfired on Obama and Biden – launching McCain and Palin ahead in national and state polls.
I recently received an e-mail from an upset reader, who declared McCain’s choice of Palin as VP was like “promoting a person who was a shop foreman two years ago to Corporate Executive.” “Nice analogy,” I retorted, “but it’s more like selecting a popular governor to be vice president.”
Just what is everyone so shocked about? The Gov.-to-VP transition is the norm, not the exception, in American politics.
Think about this way: if the young Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty were selected to be Sen. McCain’s running mate, as was rumored for months, would anyone be questioning Pawlenty’s readiness or knowledge in foreign affairs to this extent? What about Gov. Bobby Jindal of Louisiana or Gov. Rick Perry of Texas?
It is absolutely precious watching giddy anchormen rub elbows and joke with Mr. Obama in between commercial breaks, and subsequently put on a phony stern look when interviewing Mrs. Palin, questioning her as to how many heads-of-state she has dined with – as if the answer to that question brings with it implications of nuclear magnitude. Spare us.
Why the double standard? Republicans will say this is because Mrs. Palin is a woman, whereas Democrats would respond it is because Sen. McCain is 72 years old and there is a likelihood that Palin would have to “take over” should something happen to McCain.
In truth, it is primarily because people are comfortable with the less experienced candidate they know – like Obama, who has been on our TV screens, in our magazines, and down our throats for 20 months – with the more successful, accomplished, and experienced executive they don’t know. This is understandable but it does not wash away the cold fact that, in a debate over experience, the person atop the Democratic ticket is less experienced than the person on the bottom of the GOP ticket.
That Mrs. Palin has not spoken out about foreign affairs during her time in Alaska is not abnormal; it is how governors operate. The more she speaks out, clarifies her views, and articulates that she is smart and capable, the more comfortable Americans will feel entrusting her – and the more likely they are to compare her record in Alaska to Obama’s record in Chicago and Washington.
Peter Beinart, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, wrote an interesting piece in Time where stated flatly that a McCain victory in November would be bad for the Republican Party. His loss, Beinart’s theory goes, would energize conservatives for 2012; “it took four years of Carter to get Reagan,” he paraphrases the private thoughts of Republicans.
While there may be a tiny sliver of truth in this prognosis, I feel it misses the forest for the trees. By putting Palin on the ticket, McCain can now make his candidacy – and by extension, his presidency – one of a reform-themed mantra.
For every time Sen. Obama says “change,” McCain can now respond “reform.” Every time Sen. Obama says “hope,” McCain can say “actual results.” Every time Sen. Obama talks about post-partisanship, McCain can now reference his decades-long record of bipartisanship. Every time Sen. Obama stands aside Washington-old timer Joe Biden, McCain stands aside the young, reform-orientated, outsider Palin.
If a McCain-Palin administration lives up to its promise – cutting waste and challenging corruption of both parties – then the GOP brand name will be respected yet again. Beinart, and the country, does not yet appreciate this.
By the time of the conventions, McCain had already won the debate over experience. But that wasn’t going to be enough. This is a “change” election in a “change” year; Romney, Giuliani, Ridge, or Huckabee would not have been sufficiently bold choices.
With Palin, though, if he can slice away half, or even a third, of Sen. Obama’s “change” argument – forcing Obama to define his changes, something he has yet to do – McCain can, unbelievably, win this election.
It is unclear how much of a role Gov. Palin will play on the national scene in the next decade. She may lose in 2008 but be the presidential frontrunner for 2012. She may win in 2008 and resign by 2012 or 2016 due to familial or political responsibilities. Whether or not she is the next Iron Lady, or the latest fad, has still yet to be seen.
But this much is clear: without her, and the theme her vice presidential candidacy spurs, McCain’s chances in November would be significantly lower. That could not be said about any of Sen. McCain’s other VP choices.