Date: Fri 18-Dec-1998
Date: Fri 18-Dec-1998
Publication: Bee
Author: CURT
Quick Words:
Commentary-Powell-candor
Full Text:
COMMENTARY: Bagging Politicians For Candor Violates Endangered Species Law
By Chris Powell
Politicians have several reasons for not saying much that's interesting or
intelligent and for not being candid.
One is that they just don't have much to say, that they are in politics for
the prestige and power rather than for the public policy. Another is ordinary
politics; politics being as demagogic as it is, they know that what they don't
say won't hurt them, while any trace of thought or candor may be distorted and
quickly turned into an opponent's attack commercial.
But another reason may be the opportunism of the news media and their
preference for the trivial over the substantial.
Connecticut's recent election campaign, just concluded, provided a couple of
examples of this.
First a fuss was made over some remarks made by Democratic US Sen. Christopher
J. Dodd at a meeting with a newspaper's editorial board. Expressing
frustration with President Clinton's having put their party's policy record at
risk with his affair with a White House intern and his lying to the country
about it, Dodd offhandedly called Clinton an "idiot."
The newspaper headlined Dodd's exasperated characterization of the president,
it became a statewide news story, Dodd's Republican opponent in the election
jumped in with a call that Dodd should apologize for disrespect to the
presidency, Dodd's press secretary had to make an explanation that should have
been only obvious, and with his job on the line the senator had to endure
suggestions that he had embarrassed himself just as Clinton had.
That the president had more or less already called himself an idiot because of
the intern scandal did not temper much those who sought to embarrass Dodd; the
chance to play "gotcha" was too much for them.
A few days later, on the eve of the election, the Democratic nominee for
governor, US Rep Barbara B. Kennelly, visiting another newspaper and tiring of
what now clearly was the futility of her campaign, made some remarks
suggesting that she probably never should have gotten into the race. These
remarks also were pounced upon and proclaimed as a sensation, and Kennelly's
spokesman had to do some insisting that there still should be an election.
In the old days many journalists were so cozy with politicians that they would
decline to pursue evidence of misconduct, and even corruption and hatefulness.
The Dodd and Kennelly incidents suggest that the danger today is quite the
opposite. Dodd and Kennelly didn't complain of being ambushed; apparently they
hadn't formally asked for confidentiality for those of their remarks that were
turned into sensations. But what was accomplished by punishing them for their
candor, or Kennelly for her weariness on top of her candor, when their remarks
were understandable enough in context?
In the old days the press, whether spineless or aggressive or in between,
often addressed such situations with a simple courtesy. When a political
figure had granted an exclusive interview and was good enough to be candid or
at least more than strictly formal and reserved and made a remark that
obviously might cause a ruckus if isolated and blown up, he was asked, to
confirm his intentions: "May I quote you?"
This was not just a favor to the political figure; it established the decency,
fairness, and trustworthiness of the news organization. Such a reputation got
around and helped make it possible for a news organization to engage
politicians more in the serious work of public policy.
By contrast, catching a politician off-guard over small stuff has only small
and fleeting benefits, and discourages him from being candid in future
dealings with any news organization, not just the ones so eager for anything
that might be sensationalized.
Dodd and Kennelly have had long careers and will survive their mistreatment
here and may even be candid again now and then. But what of the less
experienced politicians who, with these two incidents in the 1998 campaign,
saw how a candid remark could be stuffed inside a firecracker and exploded by
the media with such satisfaction? These politicians may become like the cat
Mark Twain wrote about. Having been burned by sitting on a hot stove, the cat
never sat on one again, but it never sat on a cold one again either.
(Chris Powell is managing editor of the Journal Inquirer in Manchester.)