Authenticity is great, but campaigns still need political consultants
Shooting yourself in the foot, from the hip
By Dennis Johnson
It’s a Washington truism that the worst thing American politicians can do is say what they actually think. In fact, there’s an entire — very lucrative — industry devoted to preventing just that.
The pervasion of political consultants in the second half of the 20th century has engineered a particular brand of polished authenticity that’s become the norm for successful politicians. Homespun and unfiltered is what plays with the American public. The irony is that folksiness is usually engineered by a team of accomplished professionals using sophisticated tools.
But what happens when a politician actually goes authentic? Is it possible for a major presidential candidate to just wing it?
Donald Trump is nothing if not truly unfiltered. He has lowered the bar and the tone of the campaign to historic levels, with his brashness and insults targeting other candidates, women, minorities, the disabled; his dismissal of causes and people; his breathtaking ignorance of international affairs — all wrapped in a contempt for “political correctness.”
For much of our history, presidential candidates have relied on national political parties for leadership and manpower to craft their messages, to help fire up their voter base, and to get out the vote. This once meant down to earth, grassroots efforts to connect with people — writ large. The more immediate, and the simpler, the better.
During the 1860 campaign, tens of thousands of volunteers — referred to as the “Wide Awakes” — marched in torchlight parades for Abraham Lincoln, firing up citizens to vote. In 1920, Warren Harding revived the late 19th century practice of the front porch campaign. Orchestrated by state and local party leaders, thousands of individuals and organizations came to visit Harding at his home in Ohio. Harry Truman’s campaign made famous his “whistle stop” speeches, given from the back of the Ferdinand Magellan train car across more than 28,000 miles and nearly 350 stops, to cities and small towns alike.
Presidential campaigns still demand the leg work and enthusiasm of state, local, and national party operatives, as well as dedicated volunteers. But front porch campaigns are no more. Since the 1960s presidential candidates have turned to professional consultants to help them develop the all-important strategies and themes of their campaigns. This is due in part to the decreasing importance of the national parties, but also to the proliferation of primaries and caucuses (during which time parties are supposed to be neutral), and the increasing role of outside money and outside influences, like super PACs and mega-donors.
The names of these consultants might not be known to the average voter, but these pioneer operatives and consultants have had significant sway in presidential campaigns since the 1960s, whether as pollsters, direct mail specialists, media advisors or general consultants. Hundreds have been deployed by presidential campaigns from the 1960s to the present time. The 2012 Obama and Romney presidential campaigns were loaded with veteran operatives and consultants, who were adept at introducing the latest sophisticated campaign technology: microtargeting and big data analysis, polling, focus groups, dial meter groups, candidate and opposition research, direct mail, television advertising, online advertising, sophisticated algorithms that determine how to most efficiently reach target audiences.
Donald Trump continues to defy the now-conventional wisdom of hiring experienced professionals to help him through his campaign, and reportedly had little interest in traditional debate rehearsal and tactics review.
It isn’t just that Trump keeps changing tack; it’s more that Trump disdains consultants and chafes at their attempts to control him. The last time we saw this combination of unfiltered folksiness and disdain of political consultants was in 1992.
Blunt and plain-spoken, Ross Perot offered his own brand of simple and quick solutions to America’s problems. He, too, gave homespun advice: “If you see a snake, just kill it — don’t appoint a committee on snakes.” Solving America’s problems? “I’ll just open up the hood, get busy and fix it.” Perot caught the public’s attention, and by mid-May 1992, opinion polls showed him ahead of Bush and his main Democratic challenger Bill Clinton.
But Perot’s ragtag campaign was sorely in need of professional help. Perot turned to two veteran consultants, one a Democrat and the other a Republican: Hamilton Jordan was Jimmy Carter’s campaign manager in 1976; Ed Rollins was Ronald Reagan’s campaign manager in 1984. Jordan and Rollins were upset over the way campaigns were being run, and they decided to team up to help the outsider billionaire. Perot called them his “dream team,” but he never listened to them. In his memoirs, Rollins would call it “the campaign from hell.”
Perot was a quirky candidate to work for. Country legend Willie Nelson wanted to publicly endorse Perot. But Perot wouldn’t have it. “He’s a dope smoker and doesn’t pay his taxes,” he complained. Oh, and also, Nelson would have to shave off his beard. Perot was just as quirky over finances: he invested hundreds of thousands of dollars on electronic gadgets, but didn’t want to spend any money on some of the fundamentals of campaigning. Polling? “Why should I pay for polling when I can pick up a newspaper and read them for free?” asked Perot. TV advertising? Perot rejected the best in the biz, Hal Riney — the creative force behind the Reagan’s famous 1984 “Morning in America” campaign — saying his prices were “outrageous.” Direct mail? “I’m not going to spend money on junk mail,” proclaimed Perot. Millions of supporters had called a toll-free number, offering their help as volunteers. Their names were entered into a computer file, but none were ever called. Eventually Rollins quit; Jordan limped along as campaign manager for several more months.
On the subject of professional campaign expertise, Donald Trump sounds a lot like Perot. “No one tells me what to say,” Trump has bragged. His cadre of professional campaigners has been shockingly thin, particularly in the all-important area of field operations — and a revolving door for the consultants he does have. He relies instead on his close-knit family, friends, and his own instincts.
The Republican convention, led by Trump operatives, was haphazard, unpredictable, void of the usual political stars, and lacking a coherent theme (except for its dystopian view of America and hatred of Hillary Clinton). The Democratic convention — buoyed by a vast network of experienced campaign operatives and consultants — was thematically coherent, upbeat, and filled with established stars and promising newcomers. The professionalism was evident.
We still have months to go before Election Day, and Trump is reportedly on a spending spree, reaching out to battle-tested operatives and consultants. He’s done remarkably well so far, going on instinct, bluster, and bravado. But “Let Trump be Trump,” has been the resounding battle cry from supporters; get the consultants out of the way!
The thing is, consultants will never be out of the way again. The days of front porch campaigns are over, and maybe that’s a good thing — Donald Trump’s front porch is turning into something of a harrowing sight.
Dennis W. Johnson is professor emeritus at George Washington University’s Graduate School of Political Management. His latest book is Democracy for Hire: A History of American Political Consulting (Oxford University Press, 2016), which will come out in November 2016.