Our Presidential debates are ruining us. I think the last two are still eating my brain. Does America misunderstand debate as a concept? I’m starting to think so.
These TV debates are addictive and weirdly worthless, obscuring so much more than they educate. But the worst part is that we all assume they’re supposed to be this bad. Really, that’s not true. Here, let’s start with the definition:
de·bate
/dəˈbāt/
noun
a formal discussion on a particular topic in a public meeting or legislative assembly, in which opposing arguments are put forward.
Oxford University Press, Google version
Easy to understand: “…On a particular topic…” What’s your position on, say, abortion rights, immigration, or whether the positive virtue of teaching your slaves the word of God balances against making them your chattel? You give your best arguments while attacking and countering the other side’s points. Your opponents do the same. Virtue is affirmed; holes are fixed; soft ideas fail. Open debates are important to our elections.
Or not, you know? Why take any risks? If your position on the issue feels too squishy, just ignore the whole thing.
It’s worth asking: why do we have debates? It’s a valid question. It’s not like we need more talking in general. Politicians already love talking about themselves, so we’re more than good there. And it’s not as if we don’t have enough media coverage. We’re already living in a cloud of words; why do we need more?
Debates are supposed to add something special. Focusing on specific topics gives us time for fuller answers than bumper-sticker sound bites. And a real debate includes several groups in the discussion, forcing politicians to commit to their positions and defend them against criticism. They have to commit to their ideas in much better detail.
Getting people’s commitment to their policy is a critical part. Sure, politicians dodge hard questions whenever they can. And despite my complaints, that’s not because they’re bad people. (Well, not all of them.) There are powerful political reasons why decisive answers hurt you badly. It’s our own fault, to an extent. I’ve mentioned it before. We’re looking at the Tyranny of the Minorities.
I know that sounds weird, so here’s an example. Imagine you’re a politician looking for reelection. Mr. Smith goes to Washington. Instead of soft generalities, you take firm positions on a list of contentious issues: abortion, civil rights, voting, guns, LGBTQ, the social safety net, Thanksgiving turkey pardons, whatever. Good for you! It doesn’t matter what side you take; you’re decisive and forthright!
But with that each answer, you’ve created a small percentage of people who will never, ever vote for you. “How could I vote for a man how doesn’t support stamp collecting?” Each powerful topic has dedicated adherents who we call single-issue voters. For them, that one question is their world. And since each issue has at least two sides, expect two (or more) groups of single-issue voters for each controversial, emotional idea. So, Mr. Smith? Are you/against abortion, gun, and LGBTQ rights? Ding! You lost three segments of your people. It doesn’t even matter which side you chose, although, for extra credit, you can change your position and lose both sides.
Modern America is littered with single-issue, litmus-test people thanks to decades of effort by the Republican Party. (No, our hyperpolarization isn’t an accident, and no, both sides don’t do it.) And we’ve lost the battle to change that: right now, every firm position you take will cost you a few percentage points in your next election.
But hey, one position isn’t that much. You can recover from a three percent drop. You’re a statesman! (Or woman, or non-cis.) So, in your next interview, you express another firm opinion. You just dropped another few percentage points in the next poll. Now your staff is screaming. Political races are mostly super-close. Do that another time and bingo! You’re out of political office. That’s the Tyranny of the Minorities.
Debates are supposed to get around this by forcing all the major candidates to commit at the same time. That’s the underlying deal they make. Each politician will suffer hits, but it balances out if everyone gets hurt roughly the same amount. Politicians can speak honestly without self-immolating, and the Tyranny is broken. But only if the bargain holds.
Cheating is super-easy: force your opponent to go on the record first, taking a position that costs them votes. When your turn comes up, dodge the question. Easy-peasy. That’s what moderators are there to prevent.
So, compare that to the Super-spreader Presidential Debate we just suffered through. Watching Trump abuse the first moderator, Chris Wallace, was horrible. I’m not a big Wallace fan, but he’s earned some respect in the last few years. He’s an experienced interviewer who’s faced difficult personalities before, including President Donald J. Trump himself. And yet, the Presidential Debate reduced him to begging and appeasement. “But sir. Mister President! Sir! Mister President! You’ll like the next question, sir! It’s exactly what you want to talk about. Sir!”
(Go ahead; pretend that you wouldn’t cower in front of that much emotional violence. Trump is an experienced and powerful abuser.)
The format was empty nonsense, misunderstanding debate entirely. Why did the Commission assume they didn’t need real rules? Wallace said his goal was to use so light a touch, you’d forget who had moderated. What flavor of nonsense is that? And he missed that mark by a couple of time zones.
Talk about stupidity. I don’t care if that was Wallace’s personal decision, the Commission on Presidential Debates mandate, or orders from his Fox overseers, but it was insanely wrong. When the Trump family took off their masks, the hosts politely offered replacements. When that didn’t work, they stopped trying. That’s when we knew the Commission lied: there were no rules, only suggestions. Trump hammered that point from his first interruption to the end. Wallace did his best, but he had no firm place to stand. Everyone knew there were no rules.
The Vice-Presidential Debate was another Republican COVID distribution point. It illustrated again that generals always fight the last war. As the moderator, Susan Page started with long, careful, and stern directions about time limits and interruptions. Did she think President Trump was standing before her in a lace-up Vice President Pence suit? Did she expect Pence would be performing the Wednesday matinee performance of Trump’s manic and abusive interrupter?
Ah, well. From Page’s first question, she made Chris Wallace look masterful. Not that Page’s questions were poor — she asked excellent questions about important public issues — but Pence didn’t bother pretending to answer. And instead of insisting, Page limply accepted every dodge and diversion. She failed to hold him to the primary bargain. Wallace, for all his stammering and sputtering, at least tried to keep Trump on the topic.
I’m not blaming the Vice President. Pence’s strategy wasn’t bad. Because he couldn’t begin to defend Trump, he had to delay and divert, using his unholy magic to suck all the energy from the room. Slow-talking Mike wanted us so tired and depressed that we wouldn’t notice the howlers he was spreading like caltrops in our collective memory.
Pence succeeded; he was a colossal bore. He not only ran out the clock on every question, Micky chewed through another 15-30 seconds with dreary, pedantic noise. If the plan was, “Talk as long as she’ll let you,” he hit the spineless motherload. Page dithered, barely whispering objections as Pence ran over his time limit for every question. And I mean Every. Single. Question. All without answering anything important. Have you talked to the President about his illness? It’s kinda important. No answer. Is the COVID team becoming a COVID hot spot? Contradictory boilerplate nonsense. The collapsing economy? It’s just great! And after each disastrous, bloviating non-answer, when Pence finally, slowly, glacially ran down, Page thanked him for his bleating.
As an added reward, Page gave the Vice President extra speaking time near the end while stiffing Harris her time. What the hell? Because Pence had been so honest and forthright? I’m hoping they bought Page off ahead of time somehow. Not that it’s true, but it’s a better story than the reality of what we just watched.
Remember when Pence ignored Page’s question to grill Pamala Harris with the most damaging questions he could think of? And Page simply let him? Ah, good times.
Did this matter? Near the end, Page asked Pence if he supported the peaceful transfer of power after the election. That’s an important question, but Pence refused to answer. He wouldn’t commit to a peaceful transition or address that question at any level. Hell, the Vice President of the United States wouldn’t even commit to lawful behavior. And almost nobody noticed. Susan Page stuttered her way through another 15 seconds of Pence’s run-on pontification, lies, side-issues, and personal attacks.
And Page turned away from that bullshit shotgun to face Harris as if she hadn’t just allowed Pence to take an intellectual and ethical dump on the stage. So the answer is yes, it matters that we’re not getting the truth. How little do you care when you let that question slip past? (My kudos to Nichole Wallace for making a fuss about it later.)
And the pundits try out their “Both-Siderism” arguments by criticizing Harris for not fully answering every question. Jesus. Pence dodged them all. Of course Harris held back. Pence started cheating before the first light turned green. Did the talking heads misunderstand debate as a concept, too? There was no trade, no honesty for honesty. Page let Pence queer the deal out of the gate. What we got was quite a show, but it wasn’t a debate.
Enough with our recent trauma. Yeah, the last two debates were spittle-flecked eldritch horror shows of dystopian death and taxes. Still, think back. I’m talking about far, far ago, in those mythical, possibly imaginary, Before-Trump times. Does anyone remember those early Presidential Debates? Clinton/Trump? Obama/McCain? Bush/Gore? Reagan/Mondale? (Yes, I’m damn old.) Every ‘debate’ in my memory has been miserable. Few of them held to the bargain of honest answers. No matter who organized the debates, once they got their airtime, the topics were secondary. They bragged at how fiercely they guarded their questions and then ignored whether they got any answers. It was all a lie. They only wanted noise, not light. Each ‘debate’ followed the same empty formula: ask complex questions and then accept any campaign talking point as an answer. Try to get contestants to attack each other. Hope for more “Sir, you’re no Jack Kennedy!” zingers to raise your ratings. They must misunderstand debate. None of those reality shows met the grade.
Weirdly, the best debate I can remember was the unmoderated, three-way roundtable with George Bush, Bill Clinton, and Ross Perot. Perot covered his economic proposals, albeit at a superficial level, but it was great to watch. The criticism was cogent, and the discussion ranged into interesting territory. Best part? When they were done, we all had a better idea of what they really stood for. Perot, bless his heart, understood what a real debate looked like.
Maybe we need more third-party candidates. I’m hoping like crazy that we move to ranked-choice voting. I think that would transform our impossibly destructive, zero-sum political games into something we really need. Right now, everyone running these two-party monstrosities misunderstands debate as an idea and an ideal.
(Bonus Question: Did Pence really become a zombie after Trump ate his brain? Might explain that persistent fly.)
