I recall a time when I delivered an academic paper in San Diego.* There were three of us on the panel, joined by a moderator. As I looked side-to-side at my colleagues, I noticed, quickly, that we outnumbered the audience by one. It was a riveting topic, eclipsed only by the aplomb with which we regaled the trio, all of whom stayed without dying of boredom.
I survived that ignominy, but I might fall before the advancing horde of Republican candidates. The GOP field is threatening to go viral, expanding exponentially like a zombie plague, soon to overwhelm the known universe. There will be no place to go without coming across a Walker, a Jindal, or a Cruz. The only real question, if Republicanism were like zombieism, is how Republicans would transmit the condition? There is, naturally, an easy answer–by awkward handshakes. I can see it now. I come across Ted Cruz, fail to make eye contact, fumble around with his hand for a moment, and then seconds later mutter something like, “yeah, I can be President, too! Time to form an exploratory committee!” In some sense, that is the only explanation for some of what has happened.
But, I digress. For those who are paying attention, THREE new Republicans made announcements of varying kinds during the past half week. Ben Carson, the renowned and retired neurosurgeon, Carly Fiorina, former Hewlett-Packard CEO, and Mike Huckabee, erstwhile Republican mensch, Fox News commentator, and former Arkansas governor, are all in the race, joining our trio of lightly experienced senators (Rubio, Paul, and Cruz). Waiting in the wings–symptomatic and ready to feed–are Jeb Bush, Scott Walker, Bobby Jindal, Rick Perry, Chris Christie, and sundry others.
Though all three of the new entrants are talented, only one has any political teeth. Though Fiorina and Carson are brilliant, accomplished people, neither have anything resembling the requisite experience necessary to be a good president. There is, winding through America, a rank naiveté about what it means to be President. Too many people assume that skill or competence in one field is transferable to politics. There is, like it or not, more to the job than being smart or principled or articulate.
Surely, neither Fiorina nor Carson would think that Scott Walker, the twice-elected governor of Wisconsin, could immediately step into the H-P boardroom and make the company hum, or, even more stupidly, step into the OR at Johns Hopkins and sever conjoined twins. Even with several years of thinking and reading and tutoring, with no practical experience, only a fool would choose Walker to do those things as compared to people who have education, a record, and experience.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not saying those who support Carson or Fiorina are fools, because their supporters actually reveal two deeply disturbing trends in American politics. People want change. They want someone to give them political hope that things could be more rational, more common-sensical, and more stable. If career politicians cannot do it (and their track record is, to put it charitably, spotty), maybe someone new can. This, I understand, even if I disagree with this particular solution.
There is also a congruent idea. For too many of us, of all political stripes, the presidency is like American Idol or The Voice. “I like Ben Carson (or Bobby Jindal or Jeb Bush) because he seems like such a nice, sincere man. He makes me laugh, and I would like to hang out with him.” The president as celebrity is one of the most unfortunate, and wicked, trends of the past half century. Our chief political officers are expected to entertain and lead us–to give us the warm fuzzies and competent diplomacy.
The unfortunate reality, as I have written too many times before, is that the skills now needed to win the presidency have little to nothing to do with being a good president. If Republicans, who castigated Obama’s lack of experience, then turn around to nominate Marco Rubio (or even worse, Carson or Fiorina), they too will have fallen for the newest and freshest thing to come along.
Of course, this has nothing to do with Mike Huckabee. Of all the current candidates for the GOP nomination, Huckabee has the most experience and is in the upper-tier of native political skill. He is inherently likable and frequently winsome. These strengths, though, are outweighed by his weaknesses, which are many.
His stint on Fox News made Huckabee a household name in conservative America, but he is such a well-known commodity, that it is difficult to see how he presents himself afresh to voters. Also, the issues, and constituency, where Huckabee is strongest will not necessarily be critical in 2016. Though I could be wrong, I don’t think gay marriage will have the kind of political legs that abortion has had, even if the Supreme Court strikes down statewide bans in June. By the time we get to January and February, I think the economy and foreign affairs will assert themselves, as they generally do, at the top of the issue pile. This will not play well for Huckabee. While he may do well in Iowa, due to the caucus format and evangelical influence within that caucus, it is hard to see how he mounts a challenge much past Iowa or maybe South Carolina.
We shall see.
*Only one trip to San Diego was necessary before I understood why everyone might want to live there.