The New Prince

by Dick Morris

  Some consultants can win only if their candidate is ideologically polarized. Some consultants are only really successful on behalf of conservatives, while others only know how to win from the left side of the spectrum. They are not like battle tanks, endlessly maneuverable, able to shift from one direction to another to meet any attacker. Instead, they tend to be like fixed pieces of artillery, deadly to anyone in range in front of them but unable to swing around to meet an attack from any other direction. If you are comfortable with their ideological mold, you would be well advised to work with them. If not, don’t hire one of them because they will always try to push you to the right or the left so you can fit into their paradigm.

  Among media creators, fear the artiste who is more determined to win prizes than elections. Beautiful, evocative media does not always do better than plain, ordinary print on the screen. Sometimes, it does a lot worse. Media consultants are forever trying to build up their “reels”—the collection of ads they take to potential clients to pitch business. They often use your campaign budget to subsidize extravagant production values to make the ads look good to the next customer or the film critic, but not to the voter. Travelogues masquerading as advertisements don’t get anyone elected.

  Don’t use checks and balances to hold your consultants under control. In 1996, Dole was forever changing consultants and pitting one against another to keep them in control. The result was total chaos. The campaign had no continuity and lurched from one strategy to the next as heads rolled and new consultants were hired. Don’t hire people whose job it is to stop your best consultant from doing his job. Multiple views yield multiple strategies, and that never works. Never.

  Hold on to your wallet when you deal with consultants. Make them articulate their fees using dollars, not percentages. In commercial advertising, agencies usually demand a commission arrangement, but in political campaigns, always seek to avoid paying a percentage, just pay a flat fee. Fees negotiated in dollar denominations are always less costly than those articulated as a percentage of the total amount of media purchased.

  The key problem with almost all political consultants is that they don’t know anything about issues. They focus entirely on tactics, ads, and strategies and learn little about the substance of public policy. As a result, their advice tends to be stereotypical, pushing the issue du jour that has worked in another state. They suggest rounding up the usual suspects when formulating a campaign’s issues and rarely try to come up with new or creative formulations. Most consultants are too timid to venture outside of the normal orbit of political issues, yet it is precisely there that you will find the best ways to win.

  In dealing with your consultant, insist on his personal presence during the race. Conference calls are no substitute for making him visit your headquarters and spend the entire day learning what is happening in your race. Consultants are anxious to work in as many campaigns as possible. While this is understandable from their professional perspective, it often undermines their ability to give enough attention to each race. The variant is how often they come. You would be well advised to key their compensation to the frequency of their visits. When their body is in your headquarters, their mind usually follows.

  Chapter 39

  The Irrelevance of the Undecided Voter

  MOST PUNDITS STROKE their chins in the hours before the polls close and speculate on who will get the “undecided” vote. Few questions are less important. Mythically, undecided voters are the most serious students of the process, reserving their judgment until all the facts are in; they make up their minds as they enter the voting booth. In reality, undecided voters usually don’t know or care who’s running and are most likely not to vote at all. Ross Perot’s appeal in 1992 rested on his ability to make many of these non-voters participate. But, barring an eccentric candidacy like Perot or Jesse “The Body” Ventura, Minnesota’s Reform Party governor, few undecided voters ever actually make it to the polls in a typical contest.

  Obviously, at the start of an election campaign, most voters are undecided because they haven’t heard of the candidates before. But as the campaign matures and candidates get better known, the voters who are left undecided are usually those who don’t care and can’t be bothered. When candidates gain or lose points during a campaign, the votes rarely come from the undecideds. One candidate’s gain is usually his opponent’s loss. The undecided vote tends to remain relatively constant.

  When undecided voters don’t stay home, they usually vote against the incumbent. An uncommitted person has usually decided not to vote for the incumbent; he just hasn’t learned the name of the other candidate yet. In the presidential races between 1960 and 1996, more than nine undecideds out of ten who actually voted ended up backing the challenger and opposing the incumbent. Even such benighted campaigns as those of Barry Goldwater, George McGovern, and Walter Mondale managed to pick up the bulk of the undecided vote on election day.

  In the preelection polls of 1996, Clinton generally led by thirteen to fifteen points, yet his election day margin shrank to nine. In this case, predictably, the undecided vote went to the challenger Bob Dole. Clinton’s big mistake was not including Independent Ross Perot in the candidate debates. Clinton urged Perot’s inclusion but didn’t insist on it when the Candidate Debate Commission ruled against including the third-party challenger. The president should have boycotted the debates unless Perot was included. If Perot had debated, he probably would have absorbed most of the undecided vote as he had in 1992, increasing Clinton’s margin over Dole and likely carrying Congress for the Democrats.

  Clinton let Perot be excluded because he was fearful of having to debate him. He was glad to be able to debate Dole and slaughter him; Perot would have complicated things. But Perot’s exclusion from the debates sent a signal that he wasn’t a serious contender, and he finished with only half the vote he got in 1992, while Dole walked off with the undecideds.

  So, don’t worry about the undecideds. If you are an incumbent, you’ll never get them anyway, and if there is no incumbent, they’ll never vote in any large numbers.

  Instead, work to switch those who say they are voting for your opponent to your side—that’s where the action is.

  Chapter 40

  If You Are on a Staff: How to Handle Your Boss

  NEVER TAKE AN APPOINTED position from a politician unless you have your own power base. Having a source of strength outside the control of the person who appoints you is the difference between employment and slavery in working for a politician.

  Your power can come from good relationships with legislators or congressmen, friendships with reporters, support from parts of the district, access to important contributors, a nexus with special-interest groups, even from knowledge of a specialized field the elected official needs to know about. But those who serve only “at the pleasure” of their boss, with no power base, are no better than feudal serfs.

  If you take an appointed position, your first task is to carve out your own power base so that you can function and survive. Do your day job and then work assiduously to cultivate your own sources of political strength. Until you locate a potential reservoir of support and begin to tap it, you are on probation, hanging by a thread.

  Indeed, a staffer really isn’t of much use to a politician unless he has a power base. With a limited number of staff slots, an elected official needs to use each one to cultivate a source of support. What is a power base to you, is an opportunity to your boss.

  Power in politics is thrust upon the staff member. Influence peddlers, who cannot have access to the top man, work hard to influence and empower the people they can reach. If they can’t be with the one they love, they love the one they’re with. Lobbyists, political supporters, donors, and even press people do their utmost to help a staff member maximize his influence and power. Since they count on his future gratitude, they feel the investment in the staff member’s future is worthwhile. They work to build up a staff member’s power by feeding him informa
tion. Money is no longer “the mother’s milk of politics.” Information is. The lobbyists and influence peddlers will say, confidentially, “Your boss may want to know…” or “Did you hear what Congressman so-and-so is doing?” or “You might want to call Mr. X, I think you could get a contribution out of him.” They know that by sharing information, they are helping to maximize your value to your boss, your power. The more influence you have, the more influence they have through you.

  In serving on a staff, specialize as quickly as possible. Take an issue or a role and make it yours. Don’t wait for instructions. As Plunkett of Tammany Hall once said, “See your opportunities and take ’em.” Look around the office and develop your own product of which you become the sole source supplier. Jacks-of-all-trades are doomed to diminishment and dismissal.

  Are you the one who knows about trade issues? Do you have a good contact at Social Security to help with constituent service? Is your best friend the head of the neighborhood association in part of the district? Are you the best writer? Can you repair the fax machine? Anything for a role, a function, and a base.

  In Congress, there is a subculture of staff members who operate according to their own rules. Like monkeys climbing a tree, they swing from branch to branch—job to job—moving up. First, they rise from the constituent-service job, usually the lowest rung on a congressman’s staff, to the top slot, administrative assistant. Thence, they go from one AA job to another, moving up the congressional pecking order as they work for increasingly influential congressmen. Finally, they reach the top of the tree and become chief of staff to a standing committee. At the zenith of their power, these unknown, unelected people have enormous clout. They dominate the cabinet department they oversee and tend to remain in power for decades, watching presidents and cabinets come and go, while they remain serenely supreme.

  The key to mastering upward mobility on congressional staffs is to adjust to the mood of the body. In the House, a panty-raid psychology predominates. Members get together in ad hoc caucuses to raise hell and attract attention from a usually oblivious Speaker. Like anti-establishment pranksters at a party-oriented college, they form fraternities seeking to prick the power structure and make it move ever so slightly in their direction.

  A House staffer should use his access to the staffs of other members to help build bridges for his boss and to bring him information about what’s going on. Congressmen are social creatures who must move in herds to survive. Staffers who assist in this process of bonding and group formation can really make a difference for their boss and for themselves.

  The Senate is a different story. When Trent Lott moved from the House to the Senate, he noted that dealing with the various senators was like dealing with so many different heads of state. “In the House, you’d go over to a guy on the floor,” Lott said, “and say, ‘How about voting for my amendment?’ The other guy’d look it over and say, ‘Makes sense, count me in.’ But up here in the Senate, he says, ‘I’ll think about it. I’ll have my people take a look at it.’ Everything is reviewed by the staffs, and the senators lack the spontaneity of House members. It’s like dealing with foreign heads of state.”

  As Senate Majority Leader, Lott has tried to bring some of the House spirit to the Senate, but the institution is hard to move. For staff members, this distance and formality among senators can be daunting. Much more dignity is required. The antics of the House are very different from the decorum of the Senate. Power in the Senate comes through power on an individual senator’s staff rather than on the upward movement from staff to staff that characterizes the House. A position as chief of a senator’s staff is the top of the pyramid. It is a position of tremendous power. Inside the typical senator’s office, power changes hands slowly, as senators tend to stay in office for decades. The best way to get power on a senator’s staff is to help get him elected. The second-best way is to wait your turn.

  In the White House, there are really two staffs: the president’s and the chief of staff’s. The chief of staff exerts nominal control over all who work in the White House, but his mandate is limited when he must deal with those who have direct access to the president. Those who work for the chief of staff, on the other hand, need to be careful not to have too much contact with the chief executive, lest the chief of staff feel jealous of their access.

  Obviously, it is much better to work for the president than for the chief of staff. The problem is how to make the transition. Unless you enter the White House with a long, close, preexisting relationship with the president, you have to begin by working for his chief of staff or even for the head of your department. The key to survival and success is to get out from under their control as soon as possible and become one of the president’s own people.

  Here, the key is proximity to the president. Getting a seat on Air Force One and taking advantage of the clubby intimacy of travel with the president is a good way to do this—as is writing speeches or doing scheduling that brings you into direct and frequent contact with the chief executive. Political consultants and fund-raisers enjoy a special and direct access to the president every four years, and congressional-relations people can get that access during times of hot legislative crisis.

  In making the transition from the chief of staff’s staff to the president’s staff, it is crucial not to be too obvious and to make the shift a gradual one. There is a great danger of falling into limbo. Chiefs of staff are used to end runs and work hard at preventing them. The key here is whether the president encourages changes of allegiance. Clinton, Johnson, and FDR always did. Bush, Reagan, and Eisenhower seem not to have shared this style.

  Both in the White House and in Congress, some staffers don’t seek power in government nearly as much if they really want a stepping stone to power in an outside occupation. A press secretary will use his access to reporters and editors to line up his next job at a newspaper or TV station. Foreign-policy experts will use their entrée to join the Council on Foreign Relations or become active in international finance. Legal counsels will want prestige and position so as to enter a top law firm or to move to the judiciary. Those who oversee an administrative agency for a congressional committee will seek to parlay their access into a lobbying job. The permanent establishments of Washington pick over the executive and congressional staffs in finding their future partners and executives.

  The ultimate power of a staff member is the power to resign. Former president of France Charles de Gaulle used resignation as a weapon better than anyone else. “I chose to withdraw from power before power withdrew from me,” he said, explaining his resignation as prime minister of postwar France in 1946.

  “Pulling a de Gaulle” means getting out while you are on top, before you go back down again. When the power balance in an office has shifted against you, read the handwriting on the wall and get out. Don’t threaten resignation unless you mean it. But adjust your mind and your insecurity quotient so that you can mean it. A staff member who can quit is a staff member with power. One who is chained to his oar through insecurity is powerless.

  In a resignation, you bring the ultimate pressure to bear on a politician. He usually can’t risk having you outside as a free agent. You know too much. You have too many contacts. In a resignation, you amass all your power and force your point of view on your boss. If he will listen, you’ll un-resign and live happily. If he won’t listen, then you know you’re on your way out anyway so move on to another opportunity.

  Chapter 41

  Racism Doesn’t Work

  RACISM IS INCREASINGLY SPENT as a political force. The 1996 election was one of the first in which race played little or no role. Affirmative action, billed as the new “hot button” in 1995, failed miserably as a tool for demagogues after Clinton defanged the issue by distinguishing it from racial quotas. Even in California, where repeal of affirmative action carried the day, the issue did nothing to impede Clinton’s victory. Divisive forces—Republican attempts to stir up anti-immigrant sentiment, the issue of
welfare benefits for illegal immigrants, and voter initiatives to require that only English be used in schools and governments—had little real effect.

  Americans are turned off by racism. For fifty years, crime, welfare, and the competition for jobs have exacerbated racial tensions, but as welfare rolls have dropped, crime has declined, and unemployment has fallen to the lowest levels in decades, racial animosity has also decreased.

  Initially, civil-rights advocates urged “majority minority” districts to assure the election of black congressmen. They insisted that unless a district was 60 percent black, a white candidate would likely win regardless of the issues. Republican National Committee Chairman Lee Atwater was delighted. He pushed hard for “majority minority” seats so that African-American voters would be concentrated in certain districts, leaving white Democrats vulnerable to conservative Republican challenges.

  But the Supreme Court intervened and ruled that the ridiculously gerrymandered districts, whose lines bent and strained to pick up black voters, were unconstitutional. Alarmists worried that the redrawn districts would cause wholesale defeat of the newly elected black incumbents. But almost all were reelected even though most had to run in white-majority territory. Race didn’t matter nearly as much as the left said it would.

  General Colin Powell’s incredible national popularity shows how little skin color matters in American politics today. Virginia, with less than a quarter of its voting population black, elected Douglas Wilder as governor in the 1980s. In 1996 in North Carolina, over a third of white voters backed black Democrat Harvey Gantt in his unsuccessful bid to topple Republican Jesse Helms. Republican Congressman J. C. Watts, an African-American, won his seat in Oklahoma in an almost all-white district.