"Chris Christie, John Boehner and the rise of the plain-language leader. Trouble for Obama?
Joshua Greenman
House Speaker John Boehner's plain talk could spell trouble for Obama's grand rhetoric.
Brandon/AP
House Speaker John Boehner's plain talk could spell trouble for Obama's grand rhetoric.
Andrew Cuomo, son of a famous orator, delivered his first State of the State address with the support of a somewhat goofy PowerPoint presentation. New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie takes every opportunity to showcase his straight talk. Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels is a small wonky former budget director who, though proficient at leading his state, has about as much charisma as a...well, as a budget director.
This week, when Jerry Brown took the oath of office to lead California - again - he gave remarks that the San Diego Union-Tribune called "blunt, sober and necessary"; contrast that to back in 1980, when he ran for governor on the exalted promise to "protect the Earth, serve the people, and explore the universe."
And after receiving the speaker's gavel this week, John Boehner was as plain as plain can be. "It's still just me," he said, and his voice barely rose through his five-minute remarks.
Mark it in your history books. A backlash to the grandiloquent Barack Obama rhetoric of 2008, and to all of Sarah Palin's painful packaged zingers, is upon us: political speechmaking has reached a low ebb. Austerity is not just the budgetary buzzword; it's the new rhetorical style as well.
Why is this happening? First, we happen to have chosen a group of leaders particularly suited to the low-key style, and who are emphasizing their plain talk to contrast themselves implicitly with what they see as the overreaching phraseology of President Obama. Christie's bluntness comes from deep in his bones. Same with Daniels and Boehner.
But even those who might theoretically be suited to getting people off their feet - Cuomo and Brown, for example - are forgoing the rousing refrains, because the country seems to have soured on the power of rhetoric.
Part of this was a long time coming. We've been growing steadily more cynical about the political process, and there's nothing more indicative of that than the so-called "hot air" that emanates from a windbag. The more purple the prose with which you paint, the more suspicious the public is likely to be of the meaning behind the words. Pack in too many turns of phrase, and voters will start to look at you the way men look at women who wear too much makeup.
George W. Bush's heavily orchestrated, speechified, runup to the war in Iraq, complete with the strained "axis of evil," made matters worse. Then came Obama; his grand words built up hopes, many of which have been, fairly or not, dashed.
Now, even members of the public who aren't outright suspicious of flowery flourishes have quietly reached the broader conclusion that talk, no matter how stirring, just doesn't get you very far. Metaphors are nice, poetry is pretty, but inspiration seems, well, a little bit frivolous when unemployment is at 9.5% and China is outcompeting us. Of course great speeches have been given in the toughest times - by Abraham Lincoln, by Franklin Delano Roosevelt - but we were more innocent then. We vested more hope in our leaders; we thought we needed them to uplift and inspire us.
No more. The portfolio of a politician doesn't include highfalutin elocution. Governing has been reduced to delivering results: "jobs, jobs, jobs," to use one clumsy and overused phrase. A good leader finds "wins," or "win-wins," or even "win-win-wins." And if you can manage to be pedestrian and persuasive at the same time, well, all the better.
Why reach for top-shelf rhetoric? More often than not, it comes back to bite you in the butt.
The consequences of the shift are more than aesthetic. In 2012, they will force Obama, in at least one small way, to swim against the current. He made his name delivering a huge speech, and has repeatedly used prepared texts in big rooms to get himself out of jams. He's never been nearly as engaging or persuasive when "just talking" as Bill Clinton, for example, was. His verbiage sounds vanilla; his passion is hard to locate. He lacks the gift for the colorful yet down-to-earth phrase that captures and dramatizes a particular idea or argument.
If his Republican foil is someone who, in down-to-earth language, can just connect, it could spell trouble.
jgreenman@nydailynews.com"
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