Donald Trump is having something of a rough ride with critics recently. For the last several months his obvious verbal facility, mental quickness, and sharp tongue have allowed him to twist, evade, change the subject, and point the finger elsewhere, whenever an uncomfortable question or historical point is posed to him. He has been a veritable Question Deflection Magician (QDM).
Up until recently, he has superficially bested experienced TV reporters, print journalists, and his numerous Republican debating partners time and again. His agility in close quarters combat under sound-bite limiting conditions is startling.
He has demonstrated mastery of the TV verbal rope-a-dope technique to wear out inquisitors and/or run out the time clock.
In the last week or two, however, his aplomb seems a trifle wan. He has been hit repeatedly with questions about his personal income taxes, political support from the KKK and other White Supremacists, his father’s arrest in New York in 1927, and fraud charges in pending lawsuits about the defunct Trump University.
Polling evidence does not show significant cracks in his support yet, but this race is for the long haul, and outraged denial and rope-a-dope are short-term strategies.
Watching the daily back and forth, and his hyperactive Twitter rejoinders, which used to be mainly an instant response fact-free medium and evanescent media platform, I was struck by a dimly remembered discussion in a book on presidential politics nearly 50 years ago.
I don’t have the books right to hand, but I believe it was in one of Theodore H. White’s (1915-1986) Making of the President series (1960, 1964, 1968, and 1972) that the author described the enormous policy content variations in candidates’ stump speeches depending on where in the country they were barnstorming. The differences could be like black and white before a northern and southern audience, or between a rural farm and urban city crowd. This universal-joint policy lubrication was often critical to national electoral success, and the best politicians, Republican and Democrat alike, were masters of its subtleties.
In the 1960’s and 1970’s political reporting was largely print based, and national TV coverage was just beginning to spread. The equipment was cumbersome and expensive, so live location shots were not frequent. Storage was on heavy, awkward broadcast video tape. Of course, there was no C-SPAN. News was slow to travel long distances, and intensity often faded with increasing geographic distance. Stories took hours to days to break, and were often washed away by the next breaking stories.
Compare this process to today’s communications tools, Google internet searches, social media, blogging, and ubiquitous cell-phone coverage everywhere. We have live on-the-scene reporting, often within minutes, most anywhere in the country. This represents truly a political information revolution. And massive digital media storage is nearly cost-free compared to three decades ago..
It is nearly no exaggeration to say that any public utterance, writing, speech, interview, or article has become permanently “sticky” and simply will not fade out or go away. The depth and breadth of news coverage is nearly 100% today, and it is quite robust even back to the late 1980’s.
This poses a great hazard for political creatures. It used to be they might get away with some subtle or not so subtle shading of an answer to a difficult and uncomfortable question, and bluff that no one could find counter documentation in time to be of use.
The pace has so quickened, this tack is essentially a fool’s errand today. YouTube video, full annotated transcripts, live cable 24-hour news stations, and internet video streaming make political statements discoverable and fair game 24/7 and then some. You can run, but you can’t hide; someone will find it PDQ.
I think this is the source of some of Trump’s recent problems. He has spent so much time seeking and bathing in all sorts of publicity since the 1970s, at least, that there is a veritable mountain range of recorded data and documentation to weigh against his numerous 2015-2016 ‘adjusted’ position statements.
In the end, he is at risk from his own past volubility. Apparently his contradictions and inconsistencies haven’t seriously wounded him yet, but the drip, drip of soft water droplets wears away granite. Current communications tools have changed the drip, drip stream into a fire hose, so geological time frames for credibility erosion are no longer relevant.
I believe this election will be a flat-out humdinger to watch and participate in, and everyone should relish the contest at hand. With 8 months left to get geared up for the finale, it is a good idea to revisit some outstanding past works of political journalism. In passing, I would add two other books to those of White’s Making of the President series. Hunter S. Thompson’s (1937-2005) Fear and Lathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72 (1973) is a fine on-the-bus book perspective. Historian Gary Wills’ (1934-) Nixon Agonistes (1970) is a wonderful match for the tumultuous 1968-1972 time period. All are recommended for younger readers, and a re-read for my contemporaries.
Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72
Finally, for now, I can’t begin to express just how much I miss the regular wit, satire, and sheer love of life of Molly Ivins (1944-2007), who gets my vote as the best weekly American political columnist, bar none. While her specialty was, of course, Texas shenanigans, the Bushes, Texas, and the Aftermath loom large today.
Molly Ivins Can’t Say That, Can She?
“Many a time freedom has been rolled back – and always for the same sorry reason: fear.”
-Molly Ivins
“As they say around the Texas Legislature, if you can’t drink their whiskey, screw their women, take their money, and vote against ’em anyway, you don’t belong in office.”
-Molly Ivins