The Republican Gang, Part Eleven

"A gaffe," the journalist Michael Kinsley said, "is when a politician tells the truth."

That's nice and pithy, but not quite the whole story. Kinsley himself elaborated: "A gaffe (...) is when a politician tells the truth - or more precisely, when he or she accidentally reveals something truthful about what is going on in his or her head. A gaffe is what happens when the spin breaks down."

And more often than not, a gaffe is when the politician tells you something that plays straight to the heart of a pre-existing perception that that politician has been trying to repudiate (or perhaps, as in the case of Sarah Palin, refudiate).

****

Romney has had his share of awkward comments along the way. Some of them have simply been the result of unfortunate phrasing, such as his statement that "corporations are people, too." Some have only become awkward because they were taken totally out of context, such as his assertion that he "likes to fire people". (What he really said was: "I like being able to fire people who provide services to me. You know, if someone doesn't give me a good service that I need, I want to say, 'I'm going to go get someone else to provide that service to me.'" )

I suppose you could, at a stretch, classify such comments as gaffes. But they are hardly damning. Insofar that they tap into any pre-existing perception - well, that perception isn't one that he needs to toss aside. Corporations are people, in the sense that any money flowing into them ends up in the pockets of those working for the corporations. I really can't see anyone getting worked up about that. And yes, most of us would agree that it's a good thing to be able to get rid of those who provide bad services, and go and find someone else.

Some comments have, however, been quite horrible.

For me, the one that sticks to mind is his "poor" statement. The comment, in full, is:

"I'm in this race because I care about Americans. I'm not concerned about the very poor. We have a safety net there. If it needs repair, I'll fix it. I'm not concerned about the very rich, they're doing just fine. I'm concerned about the very heart of the America, the 90-95 percent of Americans who right now are struggling, and I'll continue to take that message across the nation."

What is so absolutely wrong with this statement is the idea that you don't have to worry about the "very poor", because there's a "safety net". You can lump them into the same category as the very rich - there's really no need to get your knickers in a twist about either of these groups of people, since they're doing just fine.

Anyone who really thinks - as Romney clearly does - that there's no need to worry about the very poor is off his rocker. You don't necessarily have to be all too sympathetic to the poor to understand this: we are talking about a group of people who, quite simply, burden society greatly. They do that simply by virtue of their poverty, by crime, by lack of education. The question of how to tackle this is an important one, and one that has worried politicians, economists and sociologists for many, many years. To say that you're not even aware that there is a problem in the first place is a very, very dubious comment indeed.

Again, though, I'm not quite sure how comfortably the comment fits into the "gaffe" mould. If Romney were asked the same question today, he'd probably reply in more or less the same manner. He'd probably reiterate the "safety net" idea, and the fact that, in his mind, enough has been done to help the poor. And whilst this might be true for me, I doubt most of you would be up in arms at such new comments, certainly not if they were phrased a little more delicately.

****

Yesterday, however, we were suddenly treated to the real thing. Suddenly, and quite out of nowhere, a real gaffe jumped straight out of our TV's and bit us on the nose.

It wasn't just surprising, it was ironic, too.

After all, yesterday was Romney's Big Day of Fun. He'd just won Illinois; he'd finally gotten his big win in the Midwest. A 12% victory over that yapping weasel scoundrel, Santy something. Take that, Michigan! Take that, Ohio! And then Jeb Bush - oh, endorsement of endorsements!

What a glorious day! To stand there in the spring sun, radiant and strong! To suckle the sweet, sweet milk of victory! To -

And, then, of course, someone squeaked "Etch a Sketch". And it all came tumbling down.

****

The guy who squeaked was Eric Fernstrom, a top Romney adviser. And he wasn't really squeaking. Instead, he was, quite calmly and reasonably, answering a journalist's question.

"Is there a concern that the pressure from Santorum and Gingrich might force the governor to attach so far to the right it would hurt him with moderate voters in the general election?" the journalist asked hopefully.

And Fehrstrom obligingly answered:

"Well, I think you hit a reset button for the fall campaign. Everything changes. It's almost like an Etch a Sketch. You can kind of shake it up and we start all over again."

A gaffe is when a politician tells the truth. Fehrstrom might not actually be a politician (I guess it's up for debate), but he certainly spoke the truth. Perfectly, in fact. His remark summed up the Romney problem in a way that left everyone hugely impressed. This, for example, was posted on Redstate:

"We’ve been at a loss to encapsulate our opposition into a one-liner; a bumper sticker. After all, it takes copious pages of ink to explain the extent of Romney’s hypocrisy on the issue of healthcare alone. Yet, late in the 11th hour of the campaign, when it’s probably too late to make a difference, we have finally discovered our symbol that exemplifies Romney."

And Gingrich, too, praised Fehrstrom, remarking that "a more perfect illustration" for why people distrusted Romney could not be found.

A gaffe, more often than not, is when a politician tells you something that plays straight to the heart of a pre-existing perception - a perception that the politician has been trying to repudiate. Again, Fehrstrom was spot on: in one simple image, he succinctly and precisely painted the cage Romney has been trapped in all through this race.

****

And so, in just about any way that counts, we have the almost perfect gaffe. The most gaffysome of all gaffes. The grotesque grandfather of all gaffyness. The -

No, wait.

Perhaps not.

When you think about it, there is another aspect to the great gaffe. It's so obvious that it's never really mentioned, but it's there all the same. It's this: for a gaffe to truly work, the truth it reveals must have been hidden. It must be one of those awkward, unwanted truths, something you've long since swept under the carpet by the time the neighbours come calling. And when they do, you can give them soothing beverages and canapés, and they'll not notice the bulgy shape in the corner.

When you think about it, that's where the Fehrstrom gaffe falls flat. That's why, as gaffes go, it's basically dead as a doornail. The simple fact of the matter is that it didn't reveal anything we didn't already know about Romney. Nada, zilch, and all that.

Surely no-one can be truly surprised by Fehrstrom's comment? Surely everyone who has been following this contest - even if only half-heartedly - would immediately realise that Fehrstrom was not inadvertently digging up some well-buried secret, but simply reconfirming an evident truth?

What is ultimately surprising about the whole incident is not what Fehrstrom said, but how Republicans have reacted to it. They seem to have seriously been considering Romney as a conservative. A conservative Republican, the new improved kind of conservative Republican - the kind all good people dream about when they huddle up at night under their US flag duvets and think Pure Thoughts after - well, after having not been so very good.

For them, perhaps, there may be a real gaffe here. For ordinary people, though, not so much.

For ordinary people, the truth, as revealed by Fehrstrom, is not only self-evident, it is welcome, too. 

Yes, Romney will be able to hit a reset button.

In fact, they're counting on it.

The Republican Gang, Part Ten

Ah, how times flies when you're having fun.

One minute you're shovelling snow in Des Moines, and the next you're whistling Dixie.

So: Alabama and Mississippi. Two wins for Santorum, if just barely. Enough for him to scurry happily onwards, even as the delegates continue to throng to Romney (who sneakily grabbed Hawaii and American Samoa whilst nobody was looking).

So nothing's really changed, right? No, that's right. Nothing's changed.

Except, perhaps, for one thing. To put it bluntly (as The National Review did), Gingrich is now officially "toast". Or, as Erick Erickson over at Redstate said: "It is time for Gingrich to exit." Or, as the Washington Post stated, rather more amiably: "Prominent conservatives have already begun to go public urging him to leave the race and that drumbeat will only grow louder if he refuses."

There's a memo which you might or might not be aware of. It was written by Randy Evans, a senior adviser to Gingrich. It was sent to Gingrich's campaign staff on Tuesday, and in it, Evans says:

"Today’s contests in Alabama, American Samoa, Hawaii, and Mississippi are big, but it’s still early. Louisiana, on March 24th, will actually be “halftime” in the race for the GOP nomination.

"Heading into Louisiana, states with delegates totalling 1,141 will have decided - just short of the 1,144 needed for the nomination. It will be Louisiana that moves the process past the halfway mark with 34 states accounting for 1,187 delegates having been voted.

"Yet by halftime, the process will be far from over. Just look at the math."

And guess what? Evans then looks at the math. Somewhat fuzzily, to be sure, but he does give it a Newtian work over. And then he concludes:

"So here is the bottom-line reality: this nomination will not be decided until the fourth quarter – and that is not until June. It also means that the candidate who closes strongest in this race is going to win (...)

This race is going to be decided by a big debate – a big choice – among GOP primary voters about the future of the Republican Party (...).

That is the debate Newt is going to win, and with it, the nomination and the election."

I'm not quite sure anyone with half a brain would actually believe the "winning" part. Redstate doesn't, and neither does The National Review (and all those guys are pretty conservative, I'm told). Neither, it seems, do "prominent conservatives" in general, according to the Post.

To be frank, I don't think that Gingrich staffers believe it either, or Gingrich himself for that matter (in spite of the fact that Evans points out various Helpful Facts, such as Wisconsin being Callista Gingrich's home state).

However, the memo, if somewhat obliquely, addresses an important, and rather tantalising, issue, one that was raised in Part Nine of this series. Neither Santorum nor Gingrich have a hope in hell of prevailing in the delegate count, but there is a chance, if just a very slim chance, that they (along with Ron Paul) may somehow prevent Romney from winning, too.

The question is, how do they do that? And, to be a little more concrete: would it help their cause if Gingrich drops out?

In an article written a few days ago for the New York Times, Nate Silver asked himself the question: "How Would Santorum Do Without Gingrich?" That's more or less the same question, except that, in Silver's case, he answers his query only by looking at the contests that have already been concluded. The real question, of course, is what would happen to Santorum if Gingrich drops out now. How would that shape the coming primaries and caucuses?

Well, the first and most obvious answer is that, should this happen, there will only be one Anti-Mitt left standing. As such, Santorum's position would be substantially strengthened; he would become, both in theory and in practice, the focal point for all those Republicans who don't like the idea of President Romney.

Would that, however, actually translate into more Santorum wins? Or, rather, more Romney losses?

Well, have a look at, say, Illinois, which is now shaping up to be the next Michigan, or the next Ohio. Currently, Romney's leading in the polls, if only slightly: he's at 35%, whilst Santorum is at 31%. Gingrich, by contrast, is at 12%.

If Gingrich exits the race, one might suspect - as Nate Silver seems to do - that perhaps a little more than half of Gingrich's support would go to Santorum, whilst about a quarter would go to Romney. In other words, Santorum goes up by 6%, and Romney by 3%. What's the result? Romney would be at 38%, and Santorum at 37%. It'd be very, very close, but Romney might win anyway; Gingrich's depature may not accomplish anything.

But perhaps more importantly, there's another fact that generally inserts itself in narrowing competitions: the fewer opponents there are, the easier it becomes to acquire greater numbers. In other words, Romney could find it easier to get the requisite number of delegates if the number of his competitors dwindles. Look at it this way: it is very, very difficult to win an outright majority if you're facing, say, three or four others; it becomes much easier if you're battling just a single competitor. In the first case, you can "win" by conquering the others, but could still lose by ending up below the 50% mark. In the second case, that problem sort of takes care of itself.

Consider, too, the recent contests in Alabama and Mississippi. Together, Gingrich and Santorum won over 70% of the vote. What would have happened if Gingrich hadn't been in the race? Frankly, I very much doubt that Santorum could have gotten much more than 50%, let alone gotten close to 70%. In other words, in very practical terms, it would seem that in some contests the combined presence of Gingrich and Santorum can hurt Romney more than the single presence of Santorum would have.

So, when all's said and done - what would the exit of Gingrich actually mean for the race? Well, I think it probably would not, as many seem to think, pave the way for a possible Santorum win. Although it might well strengthen Santorum, it would strengthen Romney as well. And in a two-man race, I'd tend to put my money on Romney.

The again, of course, my money's on him anyway.

The Republican Gang, Part Nine

Now what?

Yesterday, we had our Super Tuesday, and the hour came, but not the man. Or perhaps he did, and we all sort of missed it.

Romney won Ohio by 1%. This particular incarnation of "the next president of the United States" managed to surpass his main rival by 12,000 votes. 12,000, that is, out of a total of some 1,200,000.

Romney lost Tennessee. He lost Oklahoma, and North Dakota, and he lost Georgia as well. But at the same time, he was stuffing a host of other states in his bag: Massachusetts, Vermont, Virginia. And Idaho and Alaska, too, for good measure. And whilst this was going on, he was amassing his delegate count, soundly beating Santorum by a margin of well over 2 to 1.

Over at Romney HQ, it was the latter fact that was widely celebrated. "No-one can beat us now," they chortled, "No-one! Santorum can't catch us, Gingrich can't catch us. We've won!"

And yet, they aren't packing their bags at the Santorum camp, and Gingrich isn't going anywhere either.

So what now?

Nothing, really. We simply plod along, resuming our way to the conclusion that, frankly, seemed inevitable from the very beginning.

Oh, I suppose something extraordinary might happen - a piano might fall on Romney's head, or the angel Moroni might descend from the skies to proclaim him an Antichrist - but barring that, Romney can't lose. The only remotely possible exception to this is the scenario where Santorum, Gingrich and Paul, effectively all bundled together in some sort of Multi-Anti-Mitt package (a Super MAM, I suppose), manage to keep Romney from reaching the magic number of 1,144 delegates before the Tampa convention in August. The problem with that, though, is that it not only relies on a continued determination on the part of the voters not to back Romney, but also on the continued temperance on the part of (establishment) Republicans. The voters may play along, but establishment (or simply established) Republicans won't.

In short, it won't happen. Romney's won.

And yet, when the hour came, we missed our man. Perhaps it was the lighting, but it seemed he was gone. And instead, if you squinted a bit, and tilted your head just so, you saw the silhouette of a ship listing to the right, some once sharp cutter having taken on way too much water.

In his speech yesterday, there was something almost poetic in what Romney said, something rather sad and eerily evocative:

Tomorrow we wake up and we start again. And the next day we will do the same. And so it will go, day by day, step by step (....) to the last syllable of recorded time. Out, out brief candle!

Well, he didn't say the last part, obviously (that was Shakespeare). But somehow it sounded like it.

For all practical purposes, Romney has won the nomination. The very real question is if he'll be able to win anything else.

___________

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

- W.B. Yeats, The Second Coming

The Republican Gang, Part Eight

So, two more states done and dusted.

And for everyone hoping for more funs and games, it was a bit of a disappointment, really.

Romney's win in Arizona was expected; the magnitude of that win (47% to Santorum's 27%) wasn't surprising either. As for Romney's win in Michigan - well, it sort of depends on when you were expecting, so to speak.

A month or more ago and you'd have thought Michigan a shoe-in for Romney. It's home turf, after all. How could he lose? A week ago, though, we were all up in arms shouting "Santorum! Santorum!", and Michigan was looking decidedly dicey.

In the end, Romney just squeaked by (by 41% to Santorum's 38%). There are probably three reasons for this. Firstly, the result was influenced by early voting (Santorum's argument that he actually won the majority of votes cast on February 28th itself may well be true). Secondly, money talks - and Romney (and his Super Pac) did a lot of talking. And thirdly, of course, there was Santorum himself, who, we now know, suffers from the same affliction so prevalent amongst the season's Republican candidates: sudden and overwhelming bouts of idiocy. J.F. Kennedy's speech on the separation of church and state, for example, seems to have made Santorum want to "throw up", and Santorum felt it was good idea to share that reaction with all of us. Way to go, Winchester Weasel!!

What the Michigan result, of course, can't be put down to is the Whirr/Clack Mechanism himself. Indeed, Romney seemed fairly eager to scupper his own chances again. Visions of nice shiny Cadillacs danced before his eyes as he addressed crowds in Detroit - and they were his, all his! (Well, his wife's, actually.) He doesn't really care for Nascar, but hey, his friends own Nascar teams. Isn't that great? And the trees, the trees! They're all the right height! No nasty little sort ones, and no awkward big stomping ones either! They're all in line and doing what I want them to do! Ha!

41% to 38% doesn't really tell us all that much for the future, though. It doesn't tell us who will win Super Tuesday, for example. It doesn't tell us who will win Ohio.

So, does that mean we don't know? No, that's not what it means. I think we do know, or, at the very least, that we can make a pretty good guess. Certainly when it comes to the nomination itself. But that's not because of Michigan. Rather, it's because of - drum roll, tada! - Arizona.

Eh?

Well, think about it for a minute. Absolutely no-one in all the political pools of punditry seemed to have had any interest in Arizona at all. Romney was going to win it by a mile, so why bother? All that's true - and it's exactly the relevant point. Arizona was a far more important indicator of where this primary season is heading than Michigan, exactly because we all knew what the Arizona results would be. And we knew that, because Romney had no real competition there at all.

You see, none of the other candidates could afford to compete in Arizona. Or, if they could, they chose not to because it would have been a lost cause. But here's the thing: if they can't afford competing, they can't afford to win the nomination. And if they simply gave up, they don't believe they can win the nomination. It's really as simply as that.

Arizona, in other words, showed how the process will eventually end. Sure, Super Tuesday might be exciting, and who knows, perhaps Santorum will win Ohio, and Gingrich Georgia, and all that. But it doesn't really matter.

A while back, in Part 5 of this series, I said that, in all likelihood, it seemed that Romney had won the nomination by winning Florida. I still believe that to be the case. It is because of that win that we now have a lopsided contest, where Romney can only seriously be challenged in a number of states hand-picked by his remaining competitors, and where the Arizonas of the nation are his for the taking. And he's taking them.