tag:news.nd.edu,2005:/news/authors/robert-schmuhl tag:news.nd.edu,2005:/latest Notre Dame News | Notre Dame News | News 2008-10-21T20:00:00-04:00 Notre Dame News gathers and disseminates information that enhances understanding of the University’s academic and research mission and its accomplishments as a Catholic institute of higher learning. tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/9711 2008-10-21T20:00:00-04:00 2021-09-03T20:59:02-04:00 Former presidential speechwriter to deliver McCullough Lecture Gerson_rel.jpg

Washington Post columnist and former White House speechwriter Michael Gerson will deliver the inaugural McCullough Lecture in Responsible Journalism and Government on Oct. 29 (Wednesday) at the University of Notre Dame.

Gerson, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, will speak on2008 and Beyond: Looking at the New Political Landscapeat 7:30 p.m. in the auditorium of McKenna Hall. The lecture is free and open to the public.

The McCullough Lecture series seeks to promote greater understanding of journalistic and governmental work as a form of public service. Since 2007, Sandra and John McCullough Scholarships in Journalism or Government have supported Notre Dame students interested in careers in elected office, a government agency or public affairs journalism.

John McCullough, a 1955 Notre Dame alumnus, is a retired broadcast journalist, who is a member of both the Wisconsin Broadcasters Association Hall of Fame and the Milwaukee Press Club Hall of Fame. He began his career in television news at WNDU in South Bend.

From 2000 to 2006, Gerson served as policy advisor and chief speechwriter for President Bush. In 1999, he was a senior editor at U.S. News and World Report. He is the author of the bookHeroic Conservatism,published in 2007, and a frequent contributor to Newsweek magazine.

_ Contact: Robert Schmuhl, Gallivan Program in Journalism, 574-631-5128,_ " rschmuhl@nd.edu ":mailto:rschmuhl@nd.edu

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tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/9392 2008-04-08T20:00:00-04:00 2021-09-03T20:58:46-04:00 Tim Russert to deliver Red Smith Lecture russert_story.jpg

Tim Russert, Washington bureau chief of NBC News, will deliver the 25th anniversary Red Smith Lecture in Journalism at the University of Notre Dame on April 14 (Monday).

Russerts lecture,When Politicians Meet the Press,will begin at 8 p.m. in Washington Hall. Tickets are required for the talk, and they are available without charge at the LaFortune Student Center ticket office.

Moderator ofMeet the Presssince 1991 and the networks chief political analyst, Russert also serves as senior vice president of NBC News and as anchor ofThe Tim Russert Show,a weekly program on MSNBC. He joined NBC in 1984.

Russert received an honorary doctorate from Notre Dame in 2002, when he also delivered the commencement address. Hes the author of two best-selling books:Big Russ and Me(2004) andWisdom of Our Fathers(2006).

Named the most influential Washington journalist in magazine rankings, Russert is the recipient of numerous awards, including an Emmy, and hes a member of the Broadcasting&Cable Hall of Fame. He holds 43 honorary doctorates from American colleges and universities.

The Red Smith Lecture in Journalism was established in 1983 to honor the sportswriter and 1927 Notre Dame graduate Walter W. “Red” Smith, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for distinguished commentary in 1976. At the time of his death in 1982, Smith was a columnist for The New York Times.

The Smith Lectureship seeks to foster good writing and to recognize high journalistic standards. It is administered by the John W. Gallivan Program in Journalism, Ethics and Democracy at Notre Dame. Previous Red Smith Lecturers include James Reston, James J. Kilpatrick, Art Buchwald, Charles Kuralt, Judy Woodruff, Ted Koppel, Jim Lehrer and Frank McCourt.

The series is made possible by a gift from John and Susan McMeel and Universal Press Syndicate. A South Bend native and 1957 Notre Dame graduate, John McMeel is chairman of Andrews McMeel Universal, the parent company of Universal Press Syndicate. Hes a member of both the advisory council for Notre Dame’s College of Arts and Letters and the advisory committee of the Gallivan Program.

Universal Press Syndicate, based in Kansas City, will publish Russerts lecture and distribute it to journalists, educators and students.
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Contact:* Robert Schmuhl, Gallivan Program in Journalism, 574-631-5128,_ " rschmuhl@nd.edu ":mailto:rschmuhl@nd.edu

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tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/7639 2005-06-06T20:00:00-04:00 2021-09-03T20:57:30-04:00 Watergate offers lasting example of principled journalism Last week’s revelation of former FBI official W. Mark Felt’s identity as the Watergate anonymous source known by the colorful code name of “Deep Throat” not only solves a three-decade-old mystery but also presents journalists — and citizens — with questions that remain relevant to news media conduct today and tomorrow.

What role should an unnamed source play in coverage affecting a president and a nation at a critical time, and what is the responsibility of a news institution to the public in transmitting information provided by someone who, for whatever reason, refuses to go on the record?

Such concerns take on added meaning in the media environment that currently exists because it is so vastly different from 30 years ago. Now, many more outlets are chasing what they consider news, and competition is more intense. Mainstream sources (newspapers, magazines, broadcast networks) have seen cable news, radio talk programs and Internet blogs grow in importance and create alternative options for information. Greater choice scatters the audience, forcing each medium to look for ways to engage readers, viewers and listeners.

Motivation stands out as a principal factor in assessing whatever an anonymous source might provide. What’s behind the disclosure of any sensitive information? Is the person pursuing an objective on behalf of a greater good? Could personal pique or even revenge exist as the primary rationale?

In Felt’s own case, debate approaches new decibel levels between those who think what he did was justifiably honorable and others who vigorously criticize his leaking of unauthorized governmental material. One’s larger opinions of Richard Nixon and his presidency come into play at this point, leading to polar opposite conclusions as well as the full-throated controversy.

For a younger person unfamiliar with what happened during the Watergate era, it might come as a surprise that early in their journalistic investigation reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein were covering an unfolding story for the Washington Post that other news outlets deemed of marginal significance. Unlike today, when an “exclusive” story in one place usually captures far-flung and multimedia attention, the Post was almost alone in piecing together the “dirty tricks” of the 1972 Nixon re-election campaign and other White House misdeeds.

Here the paper’s policies in evaluating and using what Deep Throat and other unnamed sources provided offer a continuing lesson. Sensitive, insider information required confirmation from two separate sources. Felt and others could supply guidance, but verifying what the paper would decide to publish took time and effort. One person meeting a reporter at 3 a.m. in a Washington garage wasn’t dictating an article for the next day’s edition.

Over several months, the Post, in effect, kept the Watergate story alive and in front of governmental and judicial figures who, ultimately, could conduct their own investigations and follow their defined constitutional procedures. To claim that two young reporters “brought down” a president is an exaggeration bordering on myth without historical basis. Of course, they did their valuable work, but others (in the Senate, House of Representatives and on various levels of the judiciary) pursued formal processes that eventually resulted in Nixon’s resignation.

In today’s media world, so absorbed in bottom-line, dollar-sign concerns and daily worries about maintaining audience, one wonders whether editors and producers would provide the resources, time and space for a story that took so long to emerge and develop. Deep Throat was but one character in a long-running and high stakes story that seems light-years away from the quick-hit scoop we tend to see and hear now. In the deadline-driven minds of many journalists, immediacy has become a premier professional virtue.

It’s possible, however, that all the attention being devoted to Felt’s role and what he (and others) did will rekindle interest in serious, investigatory reporting of the kind Woodward and Bernstein performed before they became famous. Such work is far from glamorous and often leads to frustrating dead-ends. But it’s a matter of keeping the broader picture in mind, regardless of the costs and whatever else might be involved.

Since the early 1970s, Watergate has been the journalistic yardstick for measuring stories involving the powerful, and almost every scent of scandal has prompted some in the news media to affix the suffix “-gate” to transgressions, large and small. For instance, when Bill Clinton was president, we kept hearing about “Troopergate,” “Whitewatergate,” even “Monicagate.” More recently, with George W. Bush in the White House, there have been references to “Weaponsgate” and “Iraqgate.”

Solving the mystery of Deep Throat’s identity is an appropriate time to reflect on the reasons — both positive and negative — motivating anonymous sources and why they operate in the shadows with the intent of revealing information to the public at large. It’s also an opportune moment to close forever the suffix “-gate” — and to pursue new thinking in a journalistic mediascape that desperately needs standards and practices all of us can acknowledge serve a civic purpose.

* Robert Schmuhl is professor of American 91Ƶ and director of the John W. Gallivan Program in Journalism, Ethics&Democracy at the University of Notre Dame. *

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tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/7370 2004-12-09T19:00:00-05:00 2021-09-03T20:57:17-04:00 Next election may be first in 56 years without incumbent As White House aspirants and aficionados of presidential politics look ahead to Nov. 4, 2008, they’ll see (however dimly) an Election Day different from any since 1952.

If George W. Bush and Dick Cheney complete their second term — and the vice president keeps his promise not to make his own Oval Office run — the next national campaign will be the first in 56 years without either an incumbent president or vice president at the top of a major party ticket.

Incumbency doesn’t dictate the winner of a presidential contest, as three presidents (Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter and George H.W. Bush) and three sitting vice presidents (Richard Nixon, Hubert Humphrey and Al Gore) learned in six of the 13 elections between 1956 and 2004. Yet occupying high office provides institutional advantages for campaigning and usually reduces intra-party challengers — the insurgent efforts of Ronald Reagan against Ford in 1976 and Sen. Edward M. Kennedy’s attempt to derail Carter in 1980 notwithstanding.

But continuity has been a hallmark for more than a half-century, making the political landscape for 2008 largely uncharted territory.

When Harry Truman decided not to seek a second full term as president in 1952, he opened the door for Illinois Gov. Adlai E. Stevenson and the first of his two unsuccessful races against World War II hero Dwight D. Eisenhower.

By choosing retirement over another campaign, Truman followed the practice of the two previous 20th century vice presidents who reached the White House because a president had either died or been assassinated. Both Theodore Roosevelt and Calvin Coolidge won individual terms on their own — but elected not to run again (in 1908 and 1928, respectively).

The fourth presidential campaign of the 25 between 1908 and 2004 without an incumbent president or vice president as Democratic or Republican standard-bearer took place in 1920. Warren Harding, the first senator to go directly to the White House (the only other was John F. Kennedy), defeated Ohio Gov. John M. Cox.

That the ‘52 battle between Eisenhower and Stevenson is the only non-incumbent contest over eight decades from 1928 to 2008 is, in part, a reflection of Franklin Roosevelt’s democratic (and Democratic) dominion for a dozen years and, more recently, the elevation of the vice presidency to an office of governmental and political consequence.

The nation’s first vice president, John Adams, confided to wife Abigail in a letter that he occupied “the most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived or his imagination conceived.” Over a century later, John Nance Garner, FDR’s running mate in 1932 and 1936 (before, unsuccessfully, seeking the presidential nomination against his boss in 1940), characterized the second spot as not “worth a pitcher of warm spit” (or words to that effect). But times and responsibilities change.

Beginning with Walter Mondale’s policy involvement under Carter and especially with Cheney’s influential clout throughout the current administration, vice presidents (who, constitutionally, act as president of the Senate) now do more than cast the occasional tie-breaking senatorial vote or serve as “stand-by equipment” in case something happens to the president.

During recent decades and in stark contrast to historical precedent, being No. 2 has become a serious steppingstone in seeking the highest office. In fact, assuming Cheney completes his second term and declines to run, he’ll be the only elected vice president since Nixon to end his allotted time as understudy without seeking the principal role.

After Nixon lost to Kennedy in 1960, he came back in 1968 to defeat Lyndon Johnson’s vice president, Hubert Humphrey. Mondale lost to Reagan in 1984, while Reagan’s vice president, George H. W. Bush, won the presidency in 1988. Dan Quayle, Bush’s veep, sought the 2000 Republican presidential nomination, but couldn’t stop George W. Bush, the winner over Bill Clinton’s vice president, Gore. (Spiro Agnew, of course, was elected twice as, in the popular phrase, “Nixon’s Nixon,” but he resigned in disgrace in 1974, never returning to elective politics.)

It’s possible, for whatever reason, Cheney will step down, permitting President Bush to select a new vice president, who could then run as an incumbent. Yet, barring health problems, this seems unlikely and would create the animosity of unelected favoritism within GOP ranks.

At this point, the election of 2008 is shaping up as the combination of an open-field marathon and an elbows-flying free-for-all. One Web site already lists nearly 40 potential candidates in each party as possible contenders for the Democratic and Republican nominations. Will the next four years be long enough for Americans to make up their minds?

  • Robert Schmuhl * is professor of American 91Ƶ and director of the John W. Gallivan Program in Journalism, Ethics&Democracy at the University of Notre Dame .

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tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/7226 2004-09-29T20:00:00-04:00 2021-09-03T20:57:09-04:00 (Op-Ed): Candidates must make themselves at (your) home NOTRE DAME, IND. – When television became the principal tool for political communication, seekers of the presidency confronted a new challenge: They had to present themselves not only as plausible leaders of a world superpower, but also as visitors Americans would welcome in their homes.p. Television made White House aspirants guests – invited or not – in our households, and they began dropping by at all hours. Between news reports, interview programs, talk shows, chats with late-night comics, and commercials, candidates are now unavoidable as they occupy our screens and seek our support.

Back in 1969, writer Michael J. Arlen called Vietnam the “living-room war.” Today, because of television, the “living-room factor” plays an increasingly significant role in presidential politics. To a certain degree, the road to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue goes through your residence.

Textbooks might describe national campaigns as contests of ideas, competing policies, and proposals charting the country’s future. But those messages, by and large, come to us via our TV sets from candidates as concerned with how they dramatize themselves and their cause as with any wonkish prospectus or 12-point plan.

The “living-room factor” means someone campaigning for president needs to conform to the medium’s theatrical values. Portraying oneself as a comfortably likable person is essential. Television creates a sense of intimacy between candidate and voter, and the political figure hopes to become a regular guest in the collective American household for the campaign season – and the next four years.

The trick in cultivating a successfully telegenic “image” involves marrying personal traits – the authentic self – with qualities that make one engaging or appealing. If a candidate seems to a viewer to be in command and wears well, an emotional connection develops, and that bond can prove significant in the voting booth.

Before television, Franklin Roosevelt’s mastery of radio in his “fireside chats” staked out the living room as a place politicians could go to establish a direct rapport with the citizenry. The nation listened, and FDR gave voice, authoritatively and compassionately, to problems Americans faced in their lives and homes.

With its visual dimension, television magnifies the connection radio created. An early observer of TV’s growing involvement in political affairs was author Joe McGinness. In his still-instructive account, “The Selling of the President 1968,” Mr. McGinness chronicles how communication advisers to Richard Nixon transformed the former vice president, who had lost in 1960 to TV-savvy John Kennedy, into an image-oriented winner eight years later. Nixon’s opponent, Vice President Hubert Humphrey, never found his footing on the new terrain of the political-media landscape.

“Television did great harm to Hubert Humphrey,” McGinness noted. “His excesses – talking too long and too fervently, which were merely annoying in an auditorium – became lethal in a television studio. The performer must talk to one person at a time. He is brought into the living room. He is a guest. It is improper for him to shout.”

As television expands with more channels and means of delivery, chances for candidates to pop up – and pop by – multiply. It’s no coincidence that since 1980, the only presidents to be elected twice – Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton – used television so effectively that even opponents had to acknowledge their skill.

Mr. Reagan could poke fun at himself, but he understood what mattered. Leaving the White House, he told an interviewer: “For years, I’ve heard the question: ‘How could an actor be president?’ I’ve sometimes wondered how you could be president and not be an actor.”

Although George W. Bush and John Kerry seem inescapable on TV these days, the upcoming debates provide sustained comparison. Especially for undecided voters, the living room will become a critical precinct for taking the measure of each candidate. At its heart, the viewer’s decision is deeply personal: Do I agree with what animates or drives each nominee? Which one seems more genuine and convincing? Whom am I most comfortable with as a national leader in troubling times?

Four years ago during the debates, historian Richard Norton Smith remarked (on TV), “There is a dynamic in this race right now and it can be summed up by the question of whether you want Al Gore in your living room for the next four years or whether you want George Bush in the Oval Office for the next four years.”

Behind Mr. Smith’s sage quip were concerns about Mr. Gore’s stiff, know-it-all persona and a perception that Mr. Bush, though likable, lacked high-office gravitas. Resolving that dilemma – and the race itself – proved anything but simple in 2000.

But there’s also a larger point. Winning the Oval Office can depend on how well candidates come across in our living rooms – and whether we want to keep welcoming them into our homes.

Robert Schmuhl is professor of American 91Ƶ and director of the John W. Gallivan Program in Journalism, Ethics&Democracy at the University of Notre Dame. He’s the author of ‘Statecraft and Stagecraft: American Political Life in the Age of Personality.’

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tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/6898 2004-02-07T19:00:00-05:00 2021-09-03T20:49:08-04:00 World views America as 'empire in denial' LONDON-During this year’s State of the Union address, President Bush vowed, “America is a nation with a mission, and that mission comes from our most basic beliefs. We have no desire to dominate, no ambitions of empire.” That assertion echoes one he made at West Point in 2002 — “America has no empire to extend or utopia to establish” — and reiterates a foreign policy theme he established as a White House candidate four years ago.p. Despite the president’s frequent rejection of imperial dreams, an American abroad quickly discovers this plank of the Bush Doctrine falling on deaf ears and that it (as the British say) beggars belief. Wherever one turns — whether spending time with the media, browsing in bookshops or conversing in a pub — the topic of what foreigners perceive as U.S. dominance seems to come up, putting a Yank on the defensive.p. The BBC World Service, for instance, is currently broadcasting (and energetically promoting) a six-part radio documentary, “Age of Empire.” The series looks back at the emergence of America as an international power, but focuses primarily on the nation’s current unrivaled position economically, politically, militarily and culturally. Why, the correspondent wonders, is the U.S. “both admired and reviled, often at one and the same time?”p. In conjunction with the World Economic Forum, which recently sponsored its annual conference at Davos, Switzerland, Newsweek International published a special edition about significant issues in 2004. The lead article by British historian Niall Ferguson likens America to the Arnold Schwarzenegger character in “Terminator 3” — stunningly powerful as mechanical creation but seriously challenged in humane comportment.p. Less metaphorically, Ferguson states: “The United States is now an empire in all but name — the first case in history of an empire in denial.”p. This issue of Newsweek International reports “more than a dozen new or upcoming books” probing the topic of “American Empire.” When you discover many of them assembled on one table in a London bookshop, it’s a sobering sight, drawing the president’s protestations to the contrary into doubt.p. Here’s a sampling of titles: The Sorrows of Empire, Incoherent Empire, After the Empire: The Breakdown of the American Order, Empire Lite, The Pre-Emptive Empire: A Guide to Bush’s Kingdom, The New Imperialis and The Ordinary Person’s Guide to Empire.p. It’s fascinating to see this concern about empire and the U.S. role in the world brought together in a single place and to watch non-Americans browse (and in some cases buy) these titles. Is worry about the world’s lone superpower a motivation? Are the Brits, with their imperial days now history and memory, engaging in something akin to empire envy?p. What’s clear, however, is that foreigners view the world in ways different from what the president posits. In Empire Lite, Michael Ignatieff, a Canadian without the U.S. prejudice frequently found in contemporary commentary by outside observers, argues that “Americans have had an empire since Teddy Roosevelt, yet persist in believing they do not.”p. Like Ferguson, Ignatieff identifies a native reluctance to entertain imperial ideas. Developing his theme about the United States, he notes: “It is an empire lite, hegemony without colonies. . . . It is an imperialism led by a people who remember that their country secured its independence by revolt against an empire, and who have often thought of their country as the friend of anti-imperial struggles everywhere. It is an empire, in other words, without consciousness of itself as such.”p. Mystifyingly, Vice President Dick Cheney entered the are-we-or-aren’t-we debate about empire recently with the holiday greeting card he sent friends and supporters. The pleasantry selected to deliver seasonal wishes came from a remark made by Benjamin Franklin at the Constitutional Convention in 1787: “And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid?”p. Yoking together divine providence and the prospect of empire in a Christmas card might seem an act of chutzpah, big time. More substantively, it undercuts the president’s persistent denials. An onlooker from afar wonders whether a good cop/bad cop routine is taking place on a global stage — and why.p. Whatever Bush and Cheney might truly think, people beyond the nation’s borders have made up their minds.p. In their eyes, they see an empire in fact (of daily commerce, cultural penetration, political involvement and military presence) despite an unwillingness by most U.S. citizens to consider or call it such. That awareness in itself is worth remembering — and understanding — as America finds its place in the 21st century world.p. Robert Schmuhl is professor of American 91Ƶ and director of the John W. Gallivan Program in Journalism, Ethics&Democracy at the University of Notre Dame. He is teaching in London.

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tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/9210 2001-08-25T20:00:00-04:00 2021-09-03T20:54:07-04:00 Taking a reading of his fellow travelers Call me, if you wish, a voyeur. For as long as I can remember, I’ve engaged in the bookworm’s version of a busman’s holiday. Wandering hither and yon, I always make a point of interrupting my own reading for furtive perusal of whatever’s occupying the eyeballs of fellow travelers and those around me.p. Some people, I suspect, might judge this nomadic avocation akin to an invasion of privacy. Yet in entering a plea of nolo contendere, I’d argue that this experiment in participation and observation provides not only guilty pleasures of a venial sort but also larger lessons about a country’s culture.p. On a recent trip to Paris, for instance, the Metro proved to be a movable feast for a reader-watcher. Besides the predictable riffling through newspapers and the ever-popular policiers (or detective novels), I saw three people absorbed in French translations of Isaac Asimov’s science fiction, one sitting back with a volume of Lorca’s poems and another oblivious to all as he read Kierkegaard’s “Le Journal du Seducteur” (“Diary of a Seducer”).p. It’s chancy to generalize, but those rides and rubbernecking in cafes near Left Bank book shops (with folks reading, among other writers, Milan Kundera, Baudelaire, even Tocqueville) reflected the opposite of a best-seller mentality. Individuals were following singular concerns with refreshing seriousness and, shall we say, Old World sophistication.p. Here at home, a wanderer tends to see consumers of current events poring over newspapers or magazines; business-minded executives of both sexes mastering work-related publications or yet another of those half-horse-sense, half-horse-manure guides to leadership; students wielding yellow markers in their textbooks; men and women keeping up with the latest John Grisham, Danielle Steel, Stephen King or Mary Higgins Clark; and (increasingly) souls seeking spiritual or inspirational sustenance from the printed page. Incongruously, perhaps, you rarely discover travelers engrossed in first-rate travel writing by, say, Jonathan Raban, Paul Theroux or Bill Bryson.p. In my unscientific study, popular fiction seems our most popular choice. As flight delays become de rigueur in American travel, the longer the book often means the longer the flyer’s fuse. A popular author’s potboiler can help a reader escape the boiling point of tedium to find a world of adventure, romance — or at least bearable diversion.p. Interestingly, for all the talk about electronic books and the hand-held gizmos for reading them that store up to a dozen titles, you see relatively few travelers using them. I did spy a woman at O’Hare International Airport with one the other day, but during an eternity of waiting there, it’s possible to witness almost anything.p. A long O’Hare layover can become an intellectual adventure in itself. An academic colleague — with powers of concentration I envy and an absent-mindedness I don’t - became so engrossed in Paul Johnson’s “Modern Times” that his much-delayed flight ended up departing without him. By the time he got home (to a none-too-happy wife, he reported), most of the book’s 800 pages were marked with comments and quarrels.p. Reading of such seriousness might be foreign to most roaming, but I know several people who relish extended trips by themselves, primarily for the sake of catching up on new books and other publications. Emerson might have famously viewed 19th Century travel as “a fool’s paradise,” but today it serves as a reader’s refuge, removed from quotidian demands and distractions.p. Which is one reason my until-now-secret hobby holds a curious fascination. Taking a crowded subway in Washington a few months ago, I stood next to a young man who was holding a book with one hand and a safety pole with the other. His sly, mischievous, half smile immediately piqued my interest. An unobtrusive step for a closer look at the object of his attention revealed all: Vladimir Nabokov’s “Lolita.”p. A few weeks later, during a sojourn in Dublin, I went to the taxi rank at St. Stephen’s Green to catch a cab. The driver in position to take the next fare didn’t look up until I tapped on his window, and even then he seemed somewhat perturbed. He was reading a book, with several spread out on the seat next to him.p. As I happily switched from watcher to listener, my ride to meetings at University College Dublin became a traffic-snarled tutorial in Irish literature, with passing references to British and American authors. From this uncommon common reader ("I’d say I’ve got seven or eight-thousand books at home") I learned much, including that Seamus Heaney’s new collection of poetry, “Electric Light,” was already a top-seller throughout the country and that Heaney, a Nobel laureate in literature, is so well-known in his native Ireland it’s difficult for him to go anywhere without attracting an adoring crowd.p. En route, he also spoke passionately about Joyce, Yeats, Flann O’Brien and John McGahern — not to mention Flannery O’Connor and William Faulkner, his favorite American writers. I’ve never regretted the end of a cab ride until that one.p. Leaving Dublin on a flight to London, I glanced across the aisle and two unoccupied seats to check what a stoutish, ample-chinned woman in the afternoon of her years was reading. It was a magazine article whose title posed an age-old question: “Do You Need Some Sexual Energy?” She didn’t turn the page for a long time.p. Reading readers as they travel might make me an economy class Peeping Tom in need of counseling, a support group or both. Denial notwithstanding, I see the practice as somewhat less risky — and even more rewarding — than the one advocated by Oscar Wilde. “I never travel without my diary,” the scandalous wit once wrote. “One should always have something sensational to read in the train.”

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Robert Schmuhl
tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/3774 2001-01-18T19:00:00-05:00 2021-09-03T20:55:44-04:00 Over to you, President Bush Theodore Roosevelt, whose vigor as president prompted an observer to describe him as “a steam engine in trousers,” once remarked that “if there is not the great occasion, you don’t get the great statesman; if Lincoln had lived in times of peace, no one would know his name now.”p. Roosevelt’s century-old words are worth remembering as we look ahead to Saturday’s inauguration and think about today’s presidency. The office that George W. Bush assumes and Bill Clinton departs might be defined in the Constitution, but it is also one that’s shaped—and changed—by the people who occupy it and the circumstances when they serve.p. Clinton’s two terms took place in a much different environment from the one that existed for any of his predecessors since Franklin D. Roosevelt. Beginning with the Great Depression and continuing through World War II until the end of the Cold War, the White House served as the nation’s crisis-control center, and the president was viewed as the singular figure of authority who, for better or worse, had the responsibility for leadership during perilous times.p. Back in 1956, with the United States and the Soviet Union locked in what John Kennedy five years later in his inaugural address called “a long twilight struggle,” the noted political scientist Clinton Rossiter declared in “The American Presidency” that “the president is not a Gulliver immobilized by 10,000 tiny cords, nor even a Prometheus chained to a rock of frustration. He is, rather, a kind of magnificent lion who can roam widely and do great deeds so long as he does not try to break loose from his broad reservation.”p. After impeachment, magazine cover stories about “The Incredible Shrinking President” and countless late-night jokes, President Clinton resembles Gulliver or Prometheus more than a “magnificent lion.” Although he leaves the White House with a high job approval rating, that regard didn’t come easily or carry with it much respect for him as a person.p. Besides being the first post-Cold War president, Clinton served six of his eight years with Republicans controlling both the House of Representatives and Senate. Traditionally, power flows to the White House in times of crisis and back to Congress otherwise, as we see now. Major presidential initiatives became more difficult after 1994 and next to impossible following the 1998 impeachment.p. In addition, the multiple investigations begun under the Independent Counsel Act (a post-Watergate reform) did not only lead to revelations that weakened Clinton but also to tell-all stories in the current anything-goes media environment that tarnished the presidency itself. As a Franklin Roosevelt or a Ronald Reagan understood, a certain distance and mystery enhance someone’s leadership ability.p. Clinton recently told a reporter during an exit interview, "We need to demystify the job. It is a job . . . "p. Practically and symbolically, the presidency is much more than a job, and worry about long-term consequences of the darker moments of the Clinton years looms as a legitimate concern. However, the Independent Counsel Act was not renewed in 1999—sparing future presidents and their subordinates from a type of outside investigation Kenneth Starr (among others) considered unconstitutional—and time itself has a way of restoring public esteem for the nation’s highest office.p. Ten years after Richard Nixon resigned in disgrace, Reagan’s re-election of 1984 featured the theme that it was “Morning Again” in America. Ad after ad, we saw a happy, if somewhat romanticized, period of renewal with a respected leader at the helm.p. Almost 30 years ago, the historian Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. warned that undue emphasis on White House power could ultimately lead to an “imperial presidency.” He went on to argue, “The answer to the runaway presidency is not the messenger-boy presidency. The American democracy must discover a middle ground between making the president a czar and making him a puppet.”p. Finding the middle ground—the vital center, if you will—is a tricky and continuing balancing act between principle and pragmatism, between domestic concerns and international affairs, between traditional practices and new initiatives, between statecraft and stagecraft, between governing and campaigning, between appealing to the public at large and wooing a partisan base and so on.p. As history taught Theodore Roosevelt that leadership often comes from the trumpet-call of crisis, so, too, does the past educate us that the presidency is resilient and elastic. As George W. Bush takes the oath at noon Saturday, he not only shoulders what’s been called “the glorious burden” of White House responsibilities, but he also begins his own balancing act in confronting an unknown future.

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Robert Schmuhl
tag:news.nd.edu,2005:News/3716 1998-08-15T20:00:00-04:00 2021-09-03T21:10:22-04:00 Commentary: The Chattering Class Embedded in the daily did-he-or-didn’t-he? debates over alleged presidential dalliances is a larger lesson about today’s-and possibly tomorrow’s-news media environment.p. As Bill Clinton prepares for Monday’s grand jury testimony, seemingly endless hours of airtime and countless rolls of newsprint are being devoted to what’s called either the “scandal” or “crisis” involving the president. The recent granting of immunity to Monica Lewinsky and her own grand jury appearance set the stage for Clinton’s day in court, which (ironically, perhaps) will take place via closed-circuit television from the White House.p. While some analysts draw parallels between this presidential investigation and Watergate, a media watcher is more inclined to use the coverage of O.J. Simpson’s trials and tribulations as a point of reference. To be sure, there’s a world of difference between a murder trial and whatever Kenneth Starr is probing.p. But in terms of media mania, comparisons abound. A few years ago, we kept hearing about bloody gloves. Today we can’t escape talk of a stained dress. In both cases, previously unknown people (Kato Kaelin and Linda Tripp come immediately to mind) have become household names-and butts of late-night laughter-as they’ve told what they do and don’t know.p. For our purposes, however, the overall approach of the media to the two stories is most significant. With Simpson before and now with Clinton, there’s so much coverage its sheer volume deserves scrutiny.p. Especially with television yet to a degree with radio and print sources, we’re seeing sustained attention to a continuing narrative-a story, if you will-involving a prominent personality. Although the stakes are different and higher, there’s a sporting-event quality of who’s winning and who’s losing to the proceedings, with the outcome in doubt until a formal decision resolves the matter.p. The running nature of the story takes on importance. Since everyone already knows basic plot elements, media people making decisions about coverage are at liberty to focus on a particular day’s happenings. Increasingly-and here television is critical-this coverage revolves around so-called “experts” duly assembled to discuss the subject du jour.p. To refer to the roving band of recognizable interviewees as “talking heads” is something of a misnomer. More precisely in both the Simpson and Clinton cases, complete with their attendant controversies, these analysts comprise a continuing chorus of conflict, speculating and spinning about information, whether verified or not.p. By emphasizing conflict among the commentariat, the media stress a value of growing significance to today’s definition of news. In a crowded environment, a high-decibel dispute frequently draws a crowd. What’s different now as opposed to when Simpson was forever with us is the proliferation of sources.p. In television, the creation of CNBC, MSNBC, and Fox News Channel have dramatically widened the field beyond the traditional networks’ reporting and CNN’s coverage. Discussing the current money-losing state of MSNBC the other day, a business-minded consultant noted, “The biggest problem with what they’re doing is that there are too many news channels chasing too few eyeballs.”p. That chase breeds ever-fiercer competition, which affects the media collectively. As the comedian Jimmy Durante used to say, “Everybody’s getting into the act.” In such an environment, is it any wonder why a story about a president’s allegedly overactive libido consumes so much attention?p. The Simpson case revolved around violence. Clinton’s at its core is about sex. Violence and sex are two sturdy staples for media narratives-with television, again, a chief instrument for dramatizing such stories, whether they be fictional or rooted in reality.p. By no means is this an argument for news organizations to look the other way when a celebrity is charged with murder or a president is accused of conduct unbecoming a married man, let alone this nation’s leader. Far from it.p. But wall-to-wall, all-Monica-all-the-time coverage and chatter produce overload and overkill-and trivialization through excess. Proportion and perspective get lost in the multi-media frenzy. When a big story becomes the only story for some outlets, is the public being properly served?p. Unfortunately, until producers and editors think beyond the four-sided news box of sex, violence, conflict and celebrity, we can expect spectacles like the Simpson and Clinton cases. And the commentariat will continue to yack away, producing more heat than light.p. Yet, once the smoke clears and Monica’s a memory, people in journalism need to re-consider their role and responsibilities. The new media environment deserves new definitions of news and less predictable approaches to subjects. Ideally, the current chasing after eyeballs and ears will lead to a change of heart-and the mindful realization that moderation is a journalistic virtue worth cultivating.p. p. Robert Schmuhl is a professor of American studies at the University of Notre Dame and director of the Notre Dame Program in Journalism, Ethics&Democracy.

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Robert Schmuhl