What does a PR person owe their client or their boss when they are no longer being paid to speak for them or keep their secrets? The question comes up, obviously, with the publication of Scott McClellan’s memoir, What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington’s Culture of Deception.
President Bush’s current spokeswoman, Dana Perino, said Bush “he doesn’t recognize this as the Scott McClellan that he hired and confided in and worked with for so many years; and (is) disappointed that if he had these concerns and these thoughts he never came to him or anyone else on the staff that we know of.”
Perhaps that’s because McClellan sees things differently now. Perhaps he was always repulsed by the “deception,” but was just too chicken to say anything. McClellan seems unwilling to take a clear stand either way. Instead, from what I’ve read so far, he wants to be able to analyze the Bush Administrations failings from afar, like a pundit. As if he was never personally involved with it.
McClellan’s memoir is not a particularly flattering portrayal of the role a public relations professional plays in a high-profile organization. He seems to feel that, as a spokesman, he can excuse himself from responsibility for his clients’ deeds and his own words, as if his participation didn’t matter. In McClellan’s view, he’s at liberty now to join with the same critics of the Bush Administration’s honesty that he used to parry at daily press briefings. In trying to go easy on himself, however, he is undermining whatever remaining credibility the PR industry can claim for itself.
From the excerpt in Thursday’s Wall Street Journal:
As press secretary, I spent countless hours defending the administration from the podium in the White House briefing room. Although the things I said then were sincere, I have since come to realize that some of them were badly misguided. In these pages, I’ve tried to come to grips with some of the truths that life inside the White House bubble obscured.
My friends and former colleagues who lived and worked or are still working inside that bubble may not be happy with the perspective I present here. Many of them, I’m sure, remain convinced that the Bush administration has been fundamentally correct in its most controversial policy judgments, and that the dis-esteem in which most Americans currently hold it is undeserved.
Only time will tell. But I’ve become genuinely convinced otherwise.
His use of the word “genuinely” is revealing. Before he’s 100 words into his story, he’s defending himself from a charge he knows is coming: That his publisher and his publisher’s publicist convinced him to manufacture controversy and disagreement with his former boss because that would sell more books than another dime-a-dozen White House memoir.
Does McClellan persuade us that the scales “genuinely” have fallen from his eyes? The test I would apply to his words is to compare what he claims to believe now with what he would have had to believe when he was in the White House. If this is a genuine conversion, his own mistakes, misjudgments and areas of ignorance would be central to his case.
Unfortunately, what I found in the WSJ excerpt was an unwillingness to look at himself critically. McClellan writes:
Most of our elected leaders in Washington, Republicans and Democrats alike, are good, decent people. Yet too many of them today have made a practice of shunning truth and the high level of openness and forthrightness required to discover it.
Is this what “good, decent people” do? If they shun the truth, doesn’t that make them liars? No, says McClellan, because
Most of it is not willful or conscious.
Yikes. Our government is run by a bunch of sleepwalkers? Robots programmed to lie? What he’s describing is epistemologically tricky. If you’re not conscious of lying, then by definition you’re not lying. A liar must have intent to deceive. According to Scott McClellan, neither he nor anyone he knew acted with such intent. He could have been lied to, and innocently conveyed the lie; but if someone has lied to you and callously used you as an instrument to convey the lie, you can hardly call them “good and decent.”
You could say, “I should have checked out the story more. I thought I was telling the truth, but I ignored information that was available that would have shown me that I was transmitting lies.” That would at least suggest he bore some responsibility for the deception, by choosing to avert his eyes from an easily discernable truth.
But that’s not what McClellan says. Instead he comes up with this:
Rather, it is part of the modern Washington game that has become the accepted norm.
As I explain in this book, Washington has become the home of the permanent campaign, a game of endless politicking based on the manipulation of shades of truth, partial truths, twisting of the truth, and spin.
He uses the metaphor of “a game” to describe various manipulations of the truth. Can you play a game you don’t know you’re playing? No. Games have rules. Games have strategies. You can’t play a game successfully if you aren’t following the rules and aren’t aware of the strategies. You don’t play a game, any game, without intent.
What this almost sounds like is the kind of excuse liberals are accused of making for inner-city criminals; that they’re a product of their environment, that the culture is to blame. In Scott McClellan’s view, therefore, personal responsibility is out the window, especially his own.
Let’s look at how he analyzes this culture, this set of social norms encouraging deception, this “game.” He apparently sees it as something new:
Governing has become an appendage of politics rather than the other way around, with electoral victory and the control of power as the sole measures of success.
What did he think before writing this book? It’s not as if he was a budget analyst or a flood-control engineer. He was a flack. Very few flacks work for government who don’t come out of politics or at least have a rudimentary comprehension of it. They wouldn’t survive otherwise. And anyone who knows anything about the relationship between government and politics would know that there hasn’t been a president since George Washington who successfully divorced his political interests from the act of governing.
For McClellan to claim this as a new insight is disingenuous. His mother was an elected official in Texas. When he went to the White House, he knew exactly what he was getting into.
McClellan tries to define the “permanent campaign,” a political innovation he claims came out of the Bill Clinton years.
That means shaping the narrative before it shapes you. Candor and honesty are pushed to the side in the battle to win the latest news cycle…
So many buzzwords, so little time: Narrative and news cycle.
I find McClellan’s use of the vogue word “narrative” as grating as I find it when Daily Kos uses it. All it really means is telling a coherent story, and trying to prevent your opposition from telling theirs by undermining it.
Political pundits and operatives have been talking about the “news cycle” since before Bush’s father took office. The idea was born around the regular cycles of daily publication and nightly news, in which new batches of news were released 24 hours after the previous batch. You wanted that day’s headline or top TV story to be the story you hoped to tell. You wanted your quotes near the top, and your adversary’s quotes in paragraph 16.
Nowadays, no one is sure what the frequency of a news cycle is. It has become fashionable to say “the news cycle is 24 hours now,” but what does that mean? That there is a news cycle in each of those 24 hours? For all practical purposes, there is no “news cycle” anymore, just a continuous stream of information and political posturing.
The news cycle is a particularly irrelevant metaphor when it comes to political news. Political news consumers live in a kind of virtual reality battlefield, a World of Warcraft in which the various news and commentary sources each occupy different parts of the landscape. Each outlet reacts differently to particular news events, depending on their style and political bias. Rush Limbaugh will say one thing, but Keith Olbermann will say another, and both will ignore or distort stories that don’t conform to their ideology.
The so-called “mainstream” news sources are hemorrhaging viewers and readers, and their credibility is under continual attack. Some traditionally objective news outlets seem to have given up any pretense of even-handedness. It now makes more commercial sense to target a partisan audience with news that matches their preconceptions, rather than trying to be fair, which ends up annoying and alienating half your audience.
The buzzword for this is “cocooning.” Blue people want to read blue news that reaffirms their blueness, and red people want to live where the sea and sky are red. When a red person sees a blue news source, and vice versa, they expect to get outraged. But since they would prefer not to be outraged, cocooned news consumers usually don’t venture out, and instead swap legends about what the other color says and does. It’s all rather reminiscent of a Dr. Seuss book.
I digress, except to demonstrate that McClellan’s view of the political media climate–the one that’s so awful and liable for our political woes–is strangely out of date.
After expressing his disappointment that Bush practiced the “permanent campaign” just as much as Bill Clinton did, McClellan discusses the press’ role:
The permanent campaign also ensnares the media, who become complicit enablers of its polarizing effects. They emphasize conflict, controversy and negativity, focusing not on the real-world impact of policies and their larger, underlying truths but on the horse race aspects of politics – who’s winning, who’s losing, and why…
This is true as far as it goes. But any news editor would tell you, and would have told you 100 years ago, conflict and controversy excite the audience, and the absence of conflict and controversy bores them and makes them go elsewhere. Without conflict, you don’t have a story and stories are what all news outlets are comprised of.
Is McClellan, whose entire career has been as a press spokesman, trying to suggest the media’s preference for conflict is a surprise to him?
The press amplifies the talking points of one or both parties in its coverage, thereby spreading distortions, half-truths, and occasionally outright lies in an effort to seize the limelight and have something or someone to pick on. And by overemphasizing conflict and controversy and by reducing complex and important issues to convenient, black-and-white story lines and seven-second sound bites the media exacerbate the problem, thereby making it incredibly hard even for well-intentioned leaders to clarify and correct the misunderstandings and oversimplifications that dominate the political conversation.
There’s lots of information out there, especially now, for anyone who wants it. Every federal department has a website packed with information from which good stories could be extracted. Scott McClellan’s job involved providing extensive daily briefings, during which he had every opportunity to enlighten us. But despite all this information and all this attention, he couldn’t make “complex and important issues” interesting enough. Is that the press’ fault, or was he, perhaps, an incompetent flack?
At this point, you can almost hear McClellan’s editor saying, “okay fine, Scott, all this high-minded crap is okay, if not particularly original. But when are you going to trash Bush?”So here’s his first shot: Continue Reading »
Sphere: Related Content Tags: George Bush, loyalty, lying, permanent campaign, PR, publishing, Scott McClellan, truth, What Happened