Nader's fade
(continued)
by Micah L. Sifry
These sorts of problems crop up in all kinds of seat-of-their-pants campaigns,
and though they're painful, they don't have to be fatal. But indecisive
leadership and sloppy work in Nader's headquarters triggered the candidate's
legendary propensity for micro-managing. After some press releases were sent
out with typos, for example, Nader insisted on personally approving every
outgoing communication -- dramatically slowing the campaign's ability to
respond to reporters.
The team's flaws were most noticeable when it came to getting the campaign's
message out. There's no question the mainstream media disdained the Nader
campaign until the end. With a few exceptions -- USA Today, the Fort
Worth Star-Telegram, the Hartford Courant, and ABC News -- Nader was
nothing more than an occasional feature story. The New York Times set
the tone with its sneering editorials and skimpy news coverage. But with some
creative campaigning, Nader might have been able to break through the media
brownout.
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WHAT IF?:
Imagine what might have happened had Cornel West run as Nader's number two instead of part-time candidate Patti LaDuke.
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Despite pressure from several close supporters and campaign advisers, however,
Nader refused to elbow his way into front-page-hogging sagas like the
Elián González brouhaha or Texas's controversial execution of
Gary Graham -- even though both cases offered an excellent opportunity for him
to distinguish his stance on the issues from those of Bush and Gore. For Nader,
these stories were distractions from his core message about corporate power and
its stranglehold on American life.
Since he couldn't count on the automatic daily coverage that is a perk of being
a major-party candidate, Nader continually needed to find targets that could
illustrate his message -- i.e., we need to save democracy from
corporate power -- while also affecting the Gore-Bush horse race upon which
nearly all media coverage was focused. He hit the occasional bull's-eye, as in
a trip to East Liverpool, Ohio, where for eight years protesters have ripped Al
Gore's broken promise to prevent the opening of an incinerator near a public
school. But most of the time Nader's message was more diffuse and less
"newsworthy."
Nader also never really succeeded in crafting a more positive message from his
relentless critique of the status quo. Although he listened to those who urged
him to speak more to the "joy" in his avowed "politics of joy and justice," he
frequently fell back into a well-worn groove of excoriating the major parties
-- particularly the Democrats, for betraying their party's ideals.
Nader was also distracted by personal attacks -- the New York Times in
particular got under his skin. This sometimes blurred his focus, as did his
tendency to speak too long, testing the patience of his most adoring crowds.
And his flip remark that abortion rights would simply "revert to the states" if
Roe v. Wade were overturned by a Bush-stacked Supreme Court did little
to dispel the fears of many liberals. Anti-Nader Gore-ites like Gloria Steinem
had a field day with it.
But these stumbles don't fully explain why Nader was not better prepared for
the inevitable tendency of third-party leaners to melt away on Election Day. In
this regard, the campaign made a strategic mistake when it failed to budget and
raise enough money for a substantial ad run in the last two weeks before
November 7. "You need a field campaign, absolutely," says Bill Hillsman, the
Minnesota ad whiz who produced Nader's TV and radio ads. "But this was a case
where we never reached critical mass with TV and radio. Our message never made
it out to the independents in the suburbs. It was all focused on college
campuses and urban centers."
Nader himself was never thrilled about having to buy TV ads -- when he and I
first discussed the emerging campaign a year ago, he refused to commit even to
doing broadcast ads, hoping to run the whole thing on a combination of
grassroots organizing and free media coverage. And he was unimpressed when his
campaign spent $800,000 broadcasting the critically acclaimed "Priceless" ad (a
parody of MasterCard's famous campaign) during the August convention season,
pointing out that "our poll numbers went down afterwards."
Others in the campaign argued that those ads -- which drew secondary media
attention after a humorless MasterCard sued -- kept Nader on the playing field
during the onslaught of convention coverage, and that his numbers went down
because Gore began stealing his populist rhetoric, starting with his
nomination-acceptance speech.
Nader disagreed, even after the election. "The clutter of ads at the end was
staggering," he says. "The Democrats spent $8 million in Michigan alone."
He prefers to point to places where extensive grassroots campaigning by local
Naderites had a big impact. "We got 14 percent in Great Barrington and 33
percent in Sheffield" -- two towns in liberal Western Massachusetts -- "where
we had two people going neighbor-to-neighbor for six months."
Most of America is not like Western Massachusetts, however, culturally or even
geographically. Grassroots political movements need to be organized, yes, and
that takes tens of thousands of individuals doing the hard work of talking to
their neighbors. But those people need to be motivated by the sense that they
are part of something larger than themselves -- and that might have been
fostered by an effective national ad campaign. As Hillsman says, "going from
zero to five percent is much harder than going from five to 15 percent." Noting
Nader's reluctance to put more money into media, Hillsman concludes, "I was
never sure about how committed the candidate was to getting the five percent
[needed for federal matching funds in '04]."
The lack of paid media may have tilted Nader's itinerary in the final weeks
more toward swing states. The campaign had decided that, in aiming for at least
five percent of the vote, it needed to shore up its base in those states where
the ticket was already polling above that threshold -- a strategy that meant
going into some battleground states like Wisconsin and Minnesota. The
campaigners also believed they would drop out of the news if they went only to
"safe" states like Texas and New York.
To be sure, Nader did not get into the presidential race hoping he would have a
free and easy ride -- i.e., winning five percent of the vote without
affecting the Bush-Gore contest. It was clear he wanted to teach the Democrats
a lesson by hurting Gore, and the campaign never pushed the "safe states"
message as hard as it could have. On the other hand, if all Nader wanted to do
was deny Gore the election, then he could simply have rented a bus and
campaigned solely in his Midwestern and Northwestern strongholds, rather than
making multiple trips to New York and California.
In any event, the campaign spent only about $200,000 for paid media during the
last two weeks, precisely when a host of Gore allies -- including the Sierra
Club, the League of Conservation Voters, and NARAL -- were spending millions on
ads directly attacking Nader and suggesting that a vote for him would elect
Bush. And if there's one rule in politics today, it's that an attack on
television must be answered on television.
Nader did have a good response in the can -- an ad produced by Hillsman
depicting kids contemplating their future (a parody of a Monster.com ad) that
evoked the campaign's essentially humanistic and uplifting purpose. But Nader
worried that the ad would be seen as exploiting children and that as a
long-time opponent of commercialism and commercials aimed at kids, he would be
attacked as a hypocrite. Precious time was lost as the campaign debated what to
do; the ad finally ran here and there, but only at the very end of the
campaign.
And so he ended up with 2.7 percent. But all this nitpicking skirts a more
serious question: regardless of any fine-tuning that could have been done to
his campaign, is it possible that Nader was just headed in the wrong direction?
Specifically, should he have run less as the progressive prophet scolding the
right-drifting Democratic Party and more as the maverick independent, zeroing
in on the "buy-partisan" political establishment -- especially as it became
clear that Buchanan was not going to siphon off many votes from Bush, leaving a
leftist Nader in a much more exposed "spoiler" position? Had Ralph mistakenly
traded his "civic" armor built over decades for a "green" suit that didn't
fit?
Consider that when Nader campaigned in the 1992 New Hampshire primary and urged
voters to write in his name "as a stand-in for `none of the above,' " he
received two percent of the Democratic vote and two percent of the
Republican vote. This somewhat surprising appeal across party lines was
reflected in the large, diverse crowds that came to his rallies: middle-aged
men with gun racks on their pick-ups and young professionals bothered by high
real-estate prices, as well as the familiar ponytailed Birkenstockers. He had
recently led a successful populist uprising against Congress's attempt to vote
itself a pay raise, and his stock was high on talk-radio dials across
America.
More recently, he continued to make odd-bedfellow alliances on issues ranging
from global-trade agreements to getting Channel One out of public schools (on
which he worked with Phyllis Schlafly). But in the 2000 campaign, Nader came
out as a full-blown progressive, taking strong positions on the death penalty,
the military budget, health care, gay rights, labor organizing, racial
profiling, reparations for slavery, hemp, Palestinian rights -- you name it.
And while he did focus on the issues surrounding corporate power and democracy
that could appeal to an independent skeptic, he saddled himself with the mantle
of a fledgling social-democratic party whose core base is mostly crunchy
granola.
"I always framed things as an appeal to traditional values," Nader insisted,
when asked if his campaign wasn't too much like "Noam Chomsky for President."
"I would define the corporatists as the extremists, pointing out their
exploitation of children and commercialization of childhood, for example. I was
always careful to appeal to conservatives."
Perhaps. But exit polls show that Nader's support came predominantly from the
left side of the spectrum; obviously, conservatives weren't hearing him.
Ultimately, there may be a hard lesson here for those of us seeking a way out
of the major-party duopoly. Yes, the mythic party of nonvoters outnumbers both
Democrats and Republicans, and is potentially more radical. But there are also
many independent voters who are open to new choices beyond Tweedledee and
Tweedledum -- and these people vote more regularly than typical "nonvoters."
Thus, it may make more sense to build a third-party campaign as an
independent-populist play rooted in the "radical middle" that came out for Ross
Perot in 1992 and Jesse Ventura in 1998.
Such a strategy doesn't have to mean jettisoning progressive principles --
indeed, most of these speak to the majority of Americans when they are framed
as appeals to fairness, justice, and democratic empowerment. But it does mean
taking very seriously the need to speak to Americans where they are, without
expecting them to come all the way over to the progressive side on their own.
Nader's gamble was that his 37 years as a citizen advocate, his convincing
fight for the "little guy," and his defense of civic over corporate values
would transform the Greens into a new kind of populist/social-democratic party.
Clearly that didn't happen -- or at best, it is only beginning to happen.
Instead, in this campaign, Nader became a "Green" -- and despite his best
efforts, that term by itself still doesn't resonate with most Americans.
Micah L. Sifry's book on third parties in American politics will be
published next year by Routledge. This piece was originally written for
www.newsforchange.com.