A related issue: I’m sick of seeing perception spoken of as though it were substantial. If a poll shows that 57 percent of the country now believes a candidates’ stands on issues should be fair game for questioning (although they didn’t believe so in July, as if such fundamental principles were as mutable as the weather), that does NOT mean that they are fair game for questioning; it means 57 percent of the public didn’t (as of last week, when the poll was conducted) understand what is appropriate and what is not.
I realize that is likely to set off the small-D democrats out there, but the fact is that this country was established as a republic, not a pure democracy, for very good reasons. It wasn’t because those who are elected to represent us are necessarily smarter or better than the rest of us (no one who has spent as much time as I have over at the State House could believe that). It’s that the business of running a government is complicated, and requires more study and attention than the average citizen can devote to it in order to shape sound policy. You can take that same average citizen, and put him in the seat of an elected representative, and if he does the job he’s supposed to do, he will know things that the people who sent him there don’t know, no matter how smart they are. Why? Because they’ve got lives to lead, and he is the one they have delegated to study the issues more closely than they have time to do.
(This is why, for instance, some of the most conscientious Democrats in the Congress, such as Sens. Joe Biden and Hillary Clinton, are far more committed to sticking it out in Iraq than many of the folks who voted for them. They have done their jobs, and gained expertise in international affairs, and therefore fully understand how disastrous it would be for us to pull out now.)
The Senate, unlike the House, is particularly intended to be shielded from the momentary whims of public opinion — of which this case, in which you have the public exhibiting entirely different sets of values from July to September, is a perfect example. (This is why senators are elected every six years instead of two, and also why they were originally not popularly elected at all, but appointed by legislatures.) And one of the things that senators who take their jobs seriously ought to know is that the suitability of Supreme Court nominees should be based upon their legal credentials, not their personal political opinions. But a weird thing apparently happens in the world of politics: If the president of the opposite party is seen as too popular to challenge, senators tend to toe the line in terms of the propriety of the questions they ask during confirmation hearings. And if the president’s approval rating is in the toilet, one is free to quiz them about anything and everything. To some people (including, according to that poll, a majority of the electorate as of last week), this makes perfect sense. But to the nonpartisan mind, it makes none.
More on perception versus reality: There seems little question that President Bush failed to exhibit the leadership qualities that we deserve in the first days after Katrina hit (although I give him credit for at least trying to hit the right notes since then). I mean, who the expletive cares about Trent Lott’s porch when there are poor folks floating dead in the streets of New Orleans? The answer to that is, the president. And that says some pretty awful things about his suitability as a leader.
But in a larger sense, did the federal government as a whole fail in its job? Well, yes, in the sense that what it did was inadequate to the unbelievably huge task before it. But given the resources (which thanks to budget-cutting, WERE inadequate) and information available to it at the time, was the effort to meet that challenge reasonable?
I don’t know. I realize that makes me sound like an idiot to people who’ve been watching 24/7 news coverage over the last week or so — something I have neither the time or inclination to do. But that’s precisely where my uncertainty comes in. There’s something about that 24/7 news coverage that can shape perception regardless of reality. Decent human beings (with too much time on their hands) who sit and watch hours of human suffering, and then take a lunch break and come back to the tube, say "Oh my God — those people still haven’t been helped yet?" Therefore relief efforts don’t meet their expectations.
But are those expectations realistic? That’s what I don’t know. I’ve heard more than one person who has been involved in such aid operations say that deploying assets within three days of their being requested is actually something of a logistical coup.
I believe there were screw-ups — as there always are in something this big (study the mistakes made on D-Day, or the Battle of the Hurtgen Forest, if you want to see governmental action at its most FUBAR). But was it more fouled up than we should expect? I don’t know, and that’s why investigations into what happened are worthwhile — after we deal with the more immediate problems.
Finally, I want to pin some more blame on the media in general — not just the TV cowboys who so often draw my ire. I’m including the press. Back in 1996, I reviewed a book by James Fallows called BREAKING THE NEWS: How the Media Undermine American Democracy. He wrote that "Step by step, mainstream journalism has fallen into the habit of portraying public life as a race to the bottom, in which one group of conniving, insincere politicians ceaselessly tries to outmaneuver another." More: "By choosing to present public life as a contest among scheming political leaders, all of whom the public should view with suspicion, the news media helps bring about that very result."
It’s a malignant application of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle to American public life. Mr. Fallows said journalists tend lazily to cast every development in the news in terms of how it affects electoral politics. What may need to be reported are complicated facts that give readers and viewers the perspective they need to understand what happened. But that’s hard to do, whereas talking about the political implications is easy because journalists — particularly Washington journalists — live and breathe that stuff.
An example from the past week: When the president decided to name John Roberts as Chief Justice to replace William Rehnquist, the very first question that occurred to me (as a nonexpert on the subject) was, is this kosher? Has this happened before? Has the president ever named a rookie — one who hasn’t even pitched his first game in the majors, and for that matter doesn’t have much experience in the minors — to the top of the heap, over the heads of more experienced jurists?
I was very disappointed not to find the answer to that question in the first few sources I turned to — including The New York Times, which I usually trust to give me the perspective I seek on such matters. What I did find, however, was multiple references to the political implications of Mr. Bush’s declining popularity, and what that meant in terms of the reception his nominees were bound to get — which is what prompted me to write today’s column to begin with.
(By the way, it turns out I was all wet suspecting there was something unusual about a non-justice being named chief justice. Few of the 16 chief justices of the United States were actually on the court before their elevation.)