David Greenberg, writing at slate.com, raises the question of whether or not television really did help John Kennedy in his race against Richard Nixon in 1960. "Did JFK really win because he looked better on television?" he asks.
There's no doubt that Kennedy looked better than Nixon that night. Wearing a dark suit and flashing his boyish smile, the junior senator from Massachusetts radiated charisma. Nixon, recovering from a knee infection and a cold, looked gaunt in his gray suit, which blended in with the walls, and sweat streaked his Lazy-Shave powder.
Following the first debate, Lou Harris' poll showed Kennedy up by five, 48-43. Through most of the campaign, the typical margin was one or two percent. Going up by five established a bit of "breathing space" though it didn't last. Kennedy wound up winning by less than 1%.
Did JFK win because of the debates? Doubtful. The polling indicates Kennedy got a "bump" out of the debate, but "bumps" usually don't mean that much unless they happen right at the end.
What the debates did do was establish that Kennedy could hold his own against the more experienced Nixon. This energized the Kennedy supporters and gave a boost which contributed to the forward momentum of the campaign.
A few years ago, the Kennedy-Nixon debates were shown on public TV. Watching this debate forty years after the fact, what struck me most was how exceptionally articulate both candidates were. They each spoke with clarity and some eloquence--even Nixon!
What Greenberg disputes is the notion that television viewers thought Kennedy won and that radio listeners thought Nixon won. This notion has been oft-cited, but rests on very little evidence. Only one poll, of less than 300 persons, can be cited to support it, and that poll made no attempt to be a representative sample.
The idea that the debates won it for Kennedy raised the stakes in future debates. These things could turn an election, it was thought, and people were charry about getting involved in them. It became axiomatic that a front-runner would be making a mistake to give his challenger the opportunity. Lyndon Johnson never debated Barry Goldwater, nor Nixon either of his later opponents, Hubert Humphrey or George McGovern.
It wasn't until 1976 that we had debates again. Gerald Ford's gaffe that "there is no Soviet domination of eastern Europe" was the major news to come out of that one. Ford would have been better off saying that he simply mis-spoke, but gave the gaffe another boost when he tried to "explain" it.
Since then, however, the news has been less the debate itself than the reaction to the debate. Campaigns quickly learned that it didn't matter so much who really "won" the debate, but what did matter was who was perceived to have won it. To sell the media on their own campaign propaganda, post-debate "spin doctors" emerged.
In some cases since then, a narrative develops out of a debate that is contrary to the public's initial opinion. In 2000, for example, most people who watched the first debate between Al Gore and George W. Bush thought Gore had won. Every poll following the debate said so.
Personally speaking, I've watched most of the presidential debates, and the Gore/Bush debate is the only time I've felt actual sympathy for the opposing candidate. Bush's remarks were fumbling and off-point. He was left mumbling about something called "fuzzy math." I remember thinking, "If this were a boxing match, the referee would call it."
Yet, the next day and for days after, the media story was not about Bush's inarticulate and rambling responses, but rather about Gore's supposed "sighs." Gore just couldn't restrain himself from condescension, it was said, while Bush was a "regular guy."
In 2004, we never did hear the real story behind the box of something or other that was taped to Bush's back during the debate, though one suspects that somebody was feeding him things to say. (Otherwise, why would Bush say "wait a minute" even though nobody on the program had interrupted him?)
People watch these debates--the audience, especially for the opening debate, is usually quite high. People may not know the ins-and-outs of policy particularly well--(often, neither do the candidates)--but are able to take a measure of the candidate on the basis of demeanor and attitude.
John McCain, in his ill-fitting suit, looked hunched and blocky in 2008. Dukakis seemed on technocratic auto-pilot in 1988. George H.W. Bush was seen to check his watch in 1992 as if to say, "How much longer do I have to put up with this?" As it turned out, not long.
Has anyone ever tracked the demographic difference between the people who actually HAD a TV in 1960 to watch the debate and those who were listening on the radio? And how that might have affected their perception of the winner/loser?
Posted by: coyeti | September 27, 2010 at 08:09 PM
That is exactly the information that is lacking. The one sample included less than 300 people and nobody knows what demographic category they fit into.
Posted by: John Petty | September 29, 2010 at 12:08 PM
When your friend unbosom himself to you, you will not be afraid to say "no", nor do you withhold the "heart". When he was silent, you still need to listen to his heart, For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all in the hope, joy in the silent and Shared.
Posted by: jordan 11 | October 14, 2010 at 02:51 AM