A Consultant's Angle:
Comments on Politics and Politicians

Rita Kirk Whillock
@ The Southern Methodist University

I have worked as a political strategist for candidates running for state and local office for fourteen years. Occasionally, I will read accounts that are similar to my experiences. Too often, those accounts are shaded in ways that assist the strategists in finding the next consulting job -- more spin than spark. But that's the way political stories are often told to academics who interview the players.

Strategists tend to package campaign descriptions to make themselves look good. Others will sacrifice a little image to give a taste of the juicy behind-the-scenes narratives. Since strategists are by nature public storytellers, they know that the listener will only stay focused for a short while. Consequently, they reduce the story to the "good stuff" and embellish the details for dramatic effect. Readers should expect that when we consume consultants' stories about campaigns. The political process is so complex, the decisions so numerous, and the task of accurately recording them so time-consuming that it is difficult to explain to those not involved in the day to day workings what a campaign is like. Frankly, there are a lot of good, interesting, bizarre, and outrageous stories to tell. Yet most of those will only be told to other political operatives at the local watering holes after the votes are counted.

What you will read here is my opinion, my account of what I have seen. You may not like it. You may have even had experiences that differ from them. But these are my experiences and observations. I lay them out for you to think about.

Truth Telling in Local Campaigns

State and local campaigns are somewhat different from national campaigns. (I say that noting that in states like Texas, Florida and California, there is more similarity to running a national campaign due to the sheer magnitude of population and territory.) One difference is the accuracy of campaign pronouncements. State and local candidates are not more virtuous by nature. Veracity claims are higher due solely to voters' familiarity with the candidates. The people who run for office in most small towns in America are people well known in the local community. Constituents know if a candidate actually worked on an historic preservation committee or merely paid dues so it could be put it on the political vitae. Often, constituents know the family of the candidate. Much of the time, the community has grown up along side the candidate.

So why would I make this point so early in this piece? The reason is quite simple. The public knows what to expect of a local candidate because they know an awful lot about them as people. A few years ago there was a movement to kick out all incumbent politicians. The sentiment was well received but never materialized at the ballot box. What people meant is for other voting districts to kick out their incumbents. In general, people like their own local folks. There are strong bonds of similarity. Those attributes and characteristics constituents do not find appealing they have come to accept as the peccadilloes of a fellow human being. The higher the political office -- and the less well known the candidate is to the locals -- the more likely it is that the public will judge them and hold them accountable for actions on a higher moral scale.

Let me explain the reason for this higher accountability standard this way. If you tell one person a joke that is pretty edgy, both of you will probably laugh. You will probably laugh even if the joke is racist, sexist, prejudiced or rude. That's because we know when a joke is a joke and when it is an expression of values. (I say that noting that there are some people who have no sense of humor and think all jokes are expressions of values. These people should lighten up.) All jokes told in a public forum, however, are taken as expressions of values. The same joke enjoyed at the one-to-one level may receive hostile responses when told at the public level. A kind of public piety has been introduced. We are aware of others' feelings and the impact of the derision.

This public piety is invoked by a number of political behaviors. Few people in Arkansas have been surprised that Bill Clinton "likes the ladies." He grew up in Arkansas and spent the majority of his life there. In his Arkansas years, a young, well-educated, well-spoken, good looking man could expect that he would have offers. The fact that Clinton often responded affirmatively -- and even initiated a few exchanges -- was a water-cooler topic. The topic may have been whispered in small groups, but it was not a subject appropriate for a public forum. Moreover, it was rarely an issue when people discussed Clinton's job performance. Why?

We should note that had the topic become an issue at the local level, there would have been a lot of finger pointing going on in the room. Locally, people know a lot about each other. Quite literally, the Biblical adage of "he who throws the first stone must be without sin" is a political principle. To borrow a response from James Carville when the issue arose during the Presidential campaign, "Okay, here's the deal. Every man who has ever cheated in his relationships should vote for Clinton. The rest should vote for Bush. Clinton will win by a landslide." The divorce rate in this country doesn't hover around fifty percent for nothing. There are some serious ethical and moral problems in America. It's just that most people don't expect their local politicians from being exempt from their effect.

Nationally, the current climate of opinion shows voters are hoping for role models: extraordinary people of extraordinary values. Locally, voters are looking for people who are willing and able to do the job. When the locals feel the need to follow saints, they go to church, not the local courthouse to look for them.

Politicians are not normal

I really mean that.

Think about what running for your first office entails. A candidate has to convince family and intimate friends that they are serious about running for office. This has to appear to be rational. Somehow, you have to get friends to support you and give you money, convince your spouse to show up at your side and watch as the person he/she married is maligned by adversaries, and permit your past foibles become the subject of "news" coverage. Candidates have to shake hands, raise money, speak at local clubs, attend public events, and walk door-to-door for countless hours. They have to be a little nuts to be willing to go through all that.

Successful candidates cannot be risk averse. The first thing they stand to lose is the election. For some people, being denied the vote is a sign of personal humiliation and defeat. In truth, many candidates lose their first bid for office: they don't have enough money; they haven't achieved the necessary name recognition in the community; they often face an incumbent; and, they are unskilled as campaigners. Most people cannot start off an endeavor with the very real risk of public failure.

Candidates also risk their careers. Some businesses have difficulty supporting an employee's quest for office. Businesses typically prefer to focus on their core business. They recognize that the negative fallout from a contested race might be associated with them. They also realize that the employee will show up late, be gone for lunch, and walk out the door at 5:00. They will come to work tired, distracted, and anxious to be somewhere else. They will request time off to attend political functions. Businesses may lose clients who don't like their brand of politics.

When a candidate is his/her own boss, the risk is even greater. Then, they stand to lose their entire income base. That's a difficult choice for some people to make but candidates with "fire in the belly" seem to have few doubts about taking the risk.

Successful candidates give up personal privacy. Relinquishing so much privacy violates most personal norms. If a candidate is elected to office or faces tough competition, the toll can be great. I have known a number of state senators who have stopped going to church, for example. Their beliefs have not changed. Yet every time they go to church, they are bombarded by constituents who want to talk about events, express their views, or use the church as a moral whipping post to attack them. One career politician told me that it was like being a movie star without the money -- everyone knows your face and secretly thinks they could have performed the role better than you.

It isn't just the candidate who gives up privacy. The candidate's family lives in a fishbowl. The behavior of children is often viewed as a reflection on the candidate. The attitude of the spouse is always being assessed. Invitations to parties are often for political reasons. The loss of privacy generally means that most everyone knows matters that are normally the domain of private.

Like a convenient soap opera, the public often presumes that real-life dramas will have neat endings that reach a climax before the public grows weary of the story. Those that drag on as real human participants try to work out very real and personal problems are often viewed as weak and, perhaps, unsuited to office. Candidates and their families cannot expect the public to be patient and caring. Harry Truman once said that if you need a friend in Washington, you should get a dog. Local politicians can feel the same way. Politics is a one-way street that demands the life-blood of the candidate and returns only momentary rewards. Candidates who do not see this line of work as their calling often leave bitter.

Good candidates are a little paranoid. Some candidates question the motives of everyone who engages them in conversation, looking for what's behind the encounter. In today's political milieu, they also begin wondering who is taping this conversation and for what concealed purpose. Healthy paranoia is a positive trait for someone with political aspirations. As Kissinger reportedly said of Nixon, "Even paranoids have enemies."

Much of the paranoia results from the effective use of "whisper" campaigns, which are abundant at the local level. Whisper campaigns can emerge from anywhere -- your neighbors, friends, and often your competition. Since to broadcast the whispered charge would be uncouth, the rumor mill does the job. Gossip is the sword used to slay the enemy. Like any good gossip, the more unbelievable the tale, the faster it disseminates throughout the community. Importantly, whisper campaigns are usually based on a scintilla of truth. The one or two confirmable facts in the story give rise to believing the more outlandish parts of it.

Whisper campaigns are particularly difficult to rebut. If you could isolate the source, you could challenge the story directly. If you could determine who had heard the story, you could counter with your version. Yet neither of these conditions is likely to occur. Therefore, candidates become paranoid about who is listening, who is active in the gossip market, and how the gossip is affecting the campaign.

Conflicts over social status in the community, approaches to community values, and how to divide up limited money boil over into heated campaigns. This is prime territory for whisper campaigns. One reason is that candidates run with very limited budgets. Contributors don't generally support the "down-ballot" races (those that are listed toward the bottom of the ballot) with large contributions. Intense competition over limited resources leads to vicious behavior, which is rampant in politics.

Interestingly, some of the most vicious races I have seen occur for the local school board. You might think that in those races in particular the candidates would be concerned about being role models for school-aged children. School board races, however, tend to attract people for interesting reasons. Often, people choose a school board race because it is a morally positive position to claim on the way to higher office. This is as advantages since so much negative press surrounds "politicians." Interestingly, school board members are not often thought of as "politicians." Additionally, they are able to run on positive platforms: taking actions to support the community's children. A more common reason for people entering these races is to right some grievance. The grievances are often against some school administrator who is thought to have handled an issue poorly, against budget allocations that are perceived to be imbalanced, or to add some moral direction that is perceived lacking.

Candidates rarely provide these full explanations to the voting public as to why they are running. The reasons are numerous, but two predominate. First, the candidate doesn't want to sound petty, even if the motivation for running is one of revenge. Second, unless the candidate is certain of the moral climate of the community, they will not espouse moralist themes. Many of the moral initiatives taken on by groups like Phylis Schlaffley's Eagle Forum do not wish to face a public referendum on their claims. They are taught by movement organizers to play down their affiliation with the group and run on less heated issues. The goal is to get elected, they reason, so that their moral agenda can be put into place. Exposing it and being voted down does not advance the cause.

Any time campaigns have a concealed purpose, rumors and innuendoes abound. Some people "know" the scoop and spread it to like-minded individuals. Eventually it leaks to the wrong party who whispers the scoop to adversaries, who magnify the details for their own purposes.

The bottom line is that if you don't like soap operas, you may not be cut out for elected office.

Another abnormality of politicians, they thrive on a disproportionate ego. That is not meant as a criticism. On the contrary, it is a job requirement. Successful candidates have to have an incredibly strong sense of self and purpose. I suppose it is because they seem so confident and sure of themselves that detractors assume boldness is required to get the message heard. I have seen people stand toe-to-toe with candidates and say some of the most egregious, spiteful, hateful things. The candidates are affected. (Contrary to popular belief, they are human.) But they seem to bounce back faster than most of us would. There seems to be a sense of direction and purpose that allows candidates to move on. I admire that quality, although it can also be more difficult to get them to park their egos at the door every now and then.

Certainly, they have help in inflating their egos. After you have won a campaign or two, candidates are surrounded by people who "knew you when." Voters flatter and cajole you. Those hoping to climb the ladder of success via their boss's ladder become "yes-(wo)men" so that they fulfill some much needed ego function of their own. Some, less wise office seekers, come to believe their own propaganda and the baseless musings of those surrounding them. After a while, candidates lose perspective. They begin to think that everything is going along fine and that they are endowed by the gods with superior leadership skills to handle whatever may be thrown their direction.

As a consultant, I fear those times. That's when things are about to come unraveled. It creates stress on those who really know the candidate and a disproportionate amount of stress on the spouse and family members. In many ways, candidates live in a dream world where much of the vocal public thinks the candidate is great and the severe criticism comes from those who supposedly love them. It makes honesty more difficult.

Another abnormality of politicians is their difficulty in keeping their greatest strengths from turning into their greatest political liabilities. Effective strategists study the opposition's behavior as much as they do issues and polls. Candidates who are gun-slingers, who shoot from the lip, often can be provoked into exercising poor judgment at the worst possible times. For example, candidates who are charismatic and good looking like the affection heaped upon them a little too much. Sometimes friendly advances and reciprocated during long campaign road trips. Sometimes, the press is tipped off. Politicians cannot help but be true to their intrinsic natures. Those behaviors will manifest themselves if the candidate is put under the right sort of pressure.

There are so many illustrations of such forced behaviors that it is hard to choose between the many examples. One of my favorites is the U.S. Senate race between incumbent Jerimiah Denton and challenger Richard Shelby several years ago. Denton was a former Viet Nam prisoner of war. Famous footage of his release record his first steps off the plane onto American soil. He bent down to kiss the ground. A fervent patriot, Denton also had a quick temper and sharp tongue. Few people saw or knew that side of Denton's behavior. The Shelby team was determined to show that public side of him. Camera crews followed Denton everywhere he went firing questions at him about various issue stances. In a prime moment, Denton was walking into the Capitol when asked why he wasn't spending more time in Alabama. Tired of the hounding, Denton turned with a tinge of anger in his voice to retort, "I don't have time to go back to Alabama to kiss babies' butts." Needless to say, the retort was the substance of an advertisement. Voters were not amused. Alabama voters clearly believed their babies deserved a little smooching. Denton lost the election.

Even saints have weaknesses. The fact is every candidate is human. Try being disgustingly nice to everyone you meet for the next three months (and that is short for a campaign period). Say nice things about every child, find the kind response that turns away wrath, smile until your lips stick to your dry teeth, and you will have some sense of how difficult the task of running for office actually is. Nasty and/or rude behaviors often surface when a candidate is physically and mentally exhausted. And it often happens when they are comfortably surrounded by the people who support them most fervently -- their family, friends, and political operatives. Sometimes, you just have to "kick the cat." Human nature almost demands that you cuss a little, throw a temper tantrum, or find other ways to expel pent-up emotions.

Most successful candidates have to be willing to be "handled." This, I would argue, is central to the election of a candidate. To succeed in a democracy, candidates must represent more than their own narrow interests. From the moment a candidate is elected to office, they will be "handled." They will be accountable to the press, which is amazingly demanding of access and an official's time. They will be accountable to constituent groups, lobbyists, friends who helped them get elected, and the opposition. Juggling the various demands of constituents while attempting to find time to do the work they were elected to do requires assistance -- or handlers. Those who try to do everything on their own are doomed to failure.

The smaller the voting district, the less handling is needed. The larger the district, the more handling will be required. The reasons are simple. When a candidate has a diverse constituency and/or must reach large numbers of people, time is a premium. Travel -- with all the necessary arrangements -- takes time. Fielding calls and scheduling events are time consuming. Add to that the need to make sure the candidate is reaching a variety of constituent groups and you consume even more time. The larger the district, the more likely it is that the campaign will need to rely on some form of mass media to get the message out. Purchasing air time and print space, designing the advertising copy, producing the ads, getting all necessary approvals, adhering to a variety of state and federal laws concerning media ads, tracking expenditures for appropriate expense filing reports, further contribute to a premium for the candidate's time. "Handlers" do just that: they handle the details so the candidate can be where he or she is most needed -- out in the field talking to voters.

Machiavelli argued that three categories of rulers exist. First, there are those who are clever enough to figure out things by themselves. Second, there are those smart enough to understand through the counsel of others. Third, there are people who are too stupid to understand at all. Handlers are useful to the first category and necessary to the second and third.

The System Versus Cynicism: Why Democracies Work

I am usually asked why I continue to love politics when I have what many consider to be a cynical attitude toward the people who populate it. The reason is simple. I hope people will rise to their more noble qualities when setting out to govern. Yet I recognize that people are merely human and frequently fail despite their good intentions. Rulers ordained for life have had an uneven history of success and failure. Fortunately, our democratic system of government does not rely on the superior traits of its leaders. It relies on a system that permits routine revolutions every election period. The incentive for officeholders to perform their jobs well is that they can remain in office. It actually encourages the everyday people who hold the majority of elected offices in this country to rise to their better nature. And when they make mistakes, as they will, the public has an opportunity to negotiate the price of failure.

My cynicism is directed not toward our system of government, but toward the news media that tends to find the extraordinary cases of power abuse and treat them as commonplace. More realistically, elected officers have little failures all the time but rarely the meltdowns prominently displayed in media portrayals.

Institutions Comprised of Human Agents Are Prone to Failure

Thanks to James Madison, the Founding fathers recognized that humans are flawed and were wise enough to provide guidance for handling human failures. James Madison argued that talented leaders are not always capable of making good decisions. Even the best leaders fail because even the best are human. Madison argued strongly for the design of a government in a way that would take into account human nature. If men were angels, he argued, there would be no need for government.

While the public might prefer to remember their leaders in some mythological context, the founding fathers could easily have looked around the room and deduced the same behaviors I have recounted. They were, in a sense, local politicians who easily recognized the flaws of others in their midst. To write the Constitution the way they did is evidence to me that they were attempting to protect this nation from the potential leadership quirks of any man in that room.

During the first administration, the Founders had the opportunity to see how difficult a task the process of self-government was. True to their expectations, many of its noble leaders fouled up. For example, in a widely acclaimed book, Founding Father: Rediscovering George Washington, Richard Brookhiser recounts the problems surrounding the nation's first Administration. Washington's Secretary of State was forced to resign under "suspicion of treason." A congressional leader was "stabbed in a political argument." The Senate expelled one of its own members for treason. A journalist accused Hamilton of "scheming with James Reynolds, a small-time criminal, to speculate in treasury certificates." Hamilton said the only reason he knew Reynolds was because "Reynolds had been blackmailing him for having an affair with his wife." Two Congressmen fought on the floor of the House. And, Jefferson was accused of having an affair with his slave Sally Hemmings. On balance, it makes the current scandals look unimpressive.

From the first administration to the most recent, abuses are more commonplace. So what are we to do about it? First, recognize that public service is a noble act. The people who choose to serve the community in this way give up a lot. The gratification they receive personally compensates for the fact that monetary rewards are rarely sufficient to attract people motivated by the desire to be wealthy. The public gives up little when it permits candidates to think a little more of themselves than perhaps they should. Second, recognize that while political service is -- in a way -- a "calling," it is not one that is necessarily divinely inspired. Unlike a call to the ministry or to lead some great social movement, political agents are often motivated by the "game" of politics. At its heart, it is a thrilling sport. You win. You lose. You fumble. You recover. Finally, recognize the inherent power of "the people." Politicians are affirmed -- emotionally, intellectually -- by positive public opinion. Voters are truly powerful. They can demand good leadership, even by flawed leaders.