One of Hunter's John Edwards Webisodes: "Not... some plastic Ken doll"

On December 18, 2006, NEWSWEEK reporter Jonathan Darman published the first story linking John Edwards to Rielle Hunter. Called "Edwards Untucked," it was a short Periscope item about a series of "Webisodes" that Hunter, described as "a filmmaker who met Edwards at a New York bar," had been hired by the former senator to produce for his nascent presidential campaign. There was nothing in Jon's dispatch about Edwards' (now admitted) affair with Hunter, or the baby she claims is his, which wasn't born yet. But it did set in motion a series of events that led to the National Enquirer's reports on the Edwards-Hunter tryst--a story that the MSM largely ignored until Edwards himself confessed Friday to ABC News that he'd had a relationship with Hunter. Our policy here at NEWSWEEK seemed to mirror the rest of the media's: work to independently confirm the Enquirer's story (which was credited to anonymous, paid sources) but resist simply recycling the rumors until we could substantiate the tabloid reports or add new information to the narrative. That struck me as responsible. (My editor and I discussed a "wither the media?" item, but decided that merely rehashing the hype before the affair was confirmed was of little value.)

Jon, on the other hand, faced a different dilemma. He had long suspected that there was something fishy about Edwards' relationship with Rielle, and in the 18 months since he first met the filmmaker, she had dropped several hints that only heightened his suspicions. Like the rest of us, he attempted to confirm the Enquirer's report, to little avail (neither Edwards nor Hunter was talking). But when Edwards confessed on Friday, Jon decided that his own complicated relationship with Hunter, reporter to source, was in and of itself a worthwhile story. Here's his behind-the-scenes report:

The first time I laid eyes on Rielle Hunter, I could tell she was a story. She had frizzy blond hair with DARK roots, wore bright nail polish and moved like someone who knew how to work a room. She was on a cramped commuter flight and she was flirting with a candidate for president of the United States. It was July 7, 2006. I'd been sent to Iowa to write a piece on John Edwards. We were on our way to Des Moines, where I would be the only national reporter following him around the state for two days. From a few rows back, I tried to observe Edwards before the plane took off. Most of the other passengers seemed to have no idea who Edwards was. But this blond woman, putting away her bags, was visibly captivated by him. She tried repeatedly to engage him in conversation, but he seemed uninterested in talking. How the mighty have fallen, I thought. As John Kerry's running mate in 2004, Edwards had his own campaign bubble around him all the time; now he had to deal with strangers who flirt with him on planes. Of course, she wasn't a stranger. Edwards now admits that he had an extramarital affair with her. But at the time I had no reason to suspect there was anything between them.

She showed up at his first event that day in Des Moines with a video camera. She was trying to get as close to the candidate as she could. "Does she work for the campaign?" I asked Edwards's press secretary, Kim Rubey. "Oh, she's working on a documentary project," said Rubey. "We're not sure if it's going to work out." But it was soon clear that she was on Team Edwards. When it came time to drive to the next event, she rode in the car with the candidate. I drove behind in a rental car.

I struck up a conversation with the woman at the next event, as we waited outside. She told me her name and asked me what my astrological sign was, which I thought was a little unusual. I told her. She smiled, and began telling me her life story: how she was working as a documentary-film maker, living with a friend in South Orange, N.J., but how she'd previously had "many lives." She'd worked, she said, as an actress and as a spiritual adviser. She was fiercely devoted to astrology and New Age spirituality. She'd been a New York party girl, she'd been married and divorced, she'd been a seeker and a teacher and was a firm believer in the power of truth.

She told me that she had met Edwards at a bar, at the Regency Hotel in New York. She thought he was giving off a special "energy." I didn't pursue the topic, and when I filed my story, I made no mention of Rielle. But I was, to say the least, curious. I tried, unsuccessfully, to track her down in the weeks that followed. I thought she would make a good source. She clearly knew I was a reporter, yet she spoke freely and openly about her own life and the Edwards campaign.

Four months later, Rielle found her way to me. It was November 2006. I received an e-mail from her, complimenting me on some stories I'd written on the midterm elections. She wanted to give me a story. Could I come for lunch in New York?

CONTINUED AFTER THE JUMP...
 

In which Stumper examines the Democratic nominee's possible--and not-so-possible--vice-presidential picks. (Previous McCain installments: Bobby Jindal; Mitt Romney; Charlie Crist; Tim Pawlenty; Rob Portman. Previous Obama installments: Ted Strickland; Jim Webb; Wes Clark; Hillary Clinton; Kathleen Sebelius.)

 

Name: John Edwards
Age: 55
Education: North Carolina State University (undergraduate), University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (law degree)
Resume: Former one-term North Carolina senator, 2004 Democratic vice-presidential nominee, two-time Democratic candidate for president  

Source of Speculation: Edwards himself. In a  interview Tuesday on NPR, reporter Guy Raz told the former White House hopeful that his presence on Obama's shortlist was “open secret” and asked whether he’d accept a vice presidential offer or take himself out of consideration, as Virginia Sen. Jim Webb did on Monday. " I don’t expect to be asked, have no expectation about it at all," he said. "[But] I am prepared to seriously consider anything, anything [Obama] asks me to do for our country.” Voila: a spate of stories buzzing about a possible Obama-Edwards ticket.  

Backstory: Edwards' open-door answer on NPR wasn't noteworthy in and of itself. Dispensing the usual "don't expect it, haven't pursued it" disclaimers, he sounded exactly like the rest of Obama's expectant veeps--Evan Bayh, Kathleen Sebelius, Hillary Clinton, etc. But that's the thing: until now, Edwards has consistently showed active, unbridled antipathy to the idea of reprising his role as the Democrats' vice presidential nominee . Leaving a Manhattan awards ceremony shortly after he endorsed Obama in mid-May , Edwards told a swarm of reporters, "I have no interest in running as vice president." The next morning he appeared on the Today show to address, in Matt Lauer's words, "speculation... that you would be a possible vice presidential candidate to run alongside Barack Obama." His answer? A curt "No. Won't happen." And later, in June, he told the Spanish newspaper El Mundo, "I already had the privilege of running for vice president in 2004, and I won't do it again."   What changed?  In May, I assumed Edwards was gunning for attorney general instead. " [VP] requires months of rigorous campaigning and in the end leaves you either powerless (if you win) or further diminished (if you lose)," I wrote. "[AG] promises real pull and less public performing. For a guy who's already lost a year with his cancer-stricken wife and two young children to a second failed presidential bid, the choice seems pretty self-evident." But now that Obama's selection committee has finally launched the formal vetting process--like Webb, Edwards was likely tapped for information and documents last week--it seem he's changed his tune. That's what happens, it seems, when an ambitious man learns he might actually be asked. So game on.  

Odds: Not half bad. Until this week, the biggest knock on Edwards was that he didn't seem willing to take the job. But with his hat now firmly in the ring, the North Carolinian has to rank as one of Obama's more compelling picks. Edwards's strongest selling point? He is completely and utterly safe--a factor that the unconventional Obama will value highly when making his decision, according to Stumper sources. The equation is pretty simple. With Webb out of the running, Edwards fills Obama's requisite "white Southern populist" slot and could make North Carolina and Virginia even more competitive. He has a built-in Democratic base. A poverty crusader well-versed in pocketbook policy issues like health care and trade--the key concerns this election cycle--Edwards could lead the outreach to working-class whites in, say, Ohio who are still wary of an Ivy League African-American. And given that Obama campaign manager David Plouffe recently told reporters that his boss wants someone " qualified to be president… who’ll be a partner in governing” above all else, Edwards' unique background as a former presidential and vice-presidential candidate--i.e., one of the few American politicians familiar to voters mainly as a potential Commander in Chief--is especially attractive.
 
Viewed through the prism of "playing it safe," even Edwards' apparent weaknesses start to look like strengths. "His Southern populism isn't as rough--and, in the eyes of the media... therefore isn't as "authentic"--as Webb's," writes the New Republic's Jason Zengerle. "He also doesn't seem like a fresh choice, considering he was already Kerry's running mate." I see what Zengerle is saying. Still, I suspect that Obama would rather pick a partner like Edwards--that is, a partner who's already been fully vetted by the harsh national media and repeatedly proven his mettle as smooth, on-message campaigner--than a "rough" and/or "fresh" candidate like Webb who's known as a loose cannon and may still have skeletons in his closet. It's a matter of risk.
 
The greatest drawback of an Obama-Edwards ticket is obvious: a one-term senator, Edwards offers his fellow Senate novice little in the way of foreign-policy expertise. In a battle against John McCain, a war-scarred veteran of both Washington and Vietnam, that gap could ultimately keep Edwards off the ticket. (In which case, watch Sam Nunn and Joe Biden). If national-security cred isn't Obama's make-or-break requirement, though--I admit it's a big if--his former rival for the Democratic nomination has as good a shot as anyone. The media may yawn--"Been there, done that," they'd say. But for Obama, a yawn could be precisely the point.
 

Ever since former senator, veep nominee and 2008 presidential candidate John Edwards endorsed Barack Obama in Michigan Wednesday, the Beltway's been buzzing with speculation about what he "wants" in return for the show of support.

So far, one thing is clear: he doesn't want to follow in Thomas A. Hendricks' footsteps. 

In 1876, after serving Indiana as representative, senator and governor, Hendricks joined Samuel Tilden's ticket as the Democratic Party's vice-presidential nominee. Despite winning the popular vote, Tilden and Hendricks lost to the dynamic duo of Rutherford B. Hayes and William Almon Wheeler, 185-184, in a bitter Congressional decision over 20 disputed electoral votes. Unbowed, Hendricks ran again for vice president in 1884 alongside Grover Cleveland--making him the only politician in American history to pursue the post twice despite losing the first time around.

In a pair of encounters with the press over the past 24 hours, Edwards has shown little interest--OK, make that active, unbridled antipathy--to the idea of playing Hendricks to Obama's Cleveland. Leaving an awards ceremony last night in Manhattan, he was engulfed by a swarm of reporters demanding to know whether he would accept a spot as second-in-command. "I have no interest in running as vice president," he said. And in case those of us in the cheaper seats didn't get the message, Edwards appeared this morning on the Today show to address, in Matt Lauer's words, "speculation... that you would be a possible vice presidential candidate to run alongside Barack Obama." His answer? A curt "No. Won't happen." When Lauer pushed harder--"Under no circumstance will you be a vice presidential candidate in a Barack Obama administration?"--Edwards stood firm. "It's just not something I'm interested in," he said.

But does Edwards' veep denial mean isn't interested in playing any part in Obama's potential presidency? On the contrary. Both in New York and on Today, Edwards gave markedly different--and far more open-ended--answers to the question of whether he'd serve as attorney general. "Oh, I don’t have any thoughts about any of that," he said after the awards ceremony; "Oh, I don't want to get involved in that kind of speculation," he told Lauer. "Right now, we've got to focus on getting Barack Obama elected president of the United States--and then we'll worry about those things." Wink, wink. (Edwards also revealed that Obama had told him, "I want you on my team. I want to help you both in the campaign and with the work we want to do when I'm the president." Not something you do if you're itching to decline an offer.) I first floated the notion of AG Edwards after his Jan. 19 loss in the Nevada caucuses, suggesting that he'd relish the opportunity to "battl[e] greedy corporations and corrupt lobbyists on behalf of middle-class Americans"; a week later, Robert Novak whispered that "Illinois Democrats close to Sen. Barack Obama are quietly passing the word that John Edwards will be named attorney general in an Obama administration." Of course, Novak's report should be read with the requisite grain of salt. Still, it makes perfect sense that Edwards would prefer one post (AG) to the other (VP). The latter requires months of rigorous campaigning and in the end leaves you either powerless (if you win) or further diminished (if you lose); the former promises real pull and less public performing. For a guy who's already lost a year with his cancer-stricken wife and two young children to a second failed presidential bid, the choice seems pretty self-evident.

And in case Obama has another AG in mind, Edwards hasn't ruled out other (more debonair) roles in an Obama White House. Appearing on the Colbert Report in mid-April, the ex-candidate explained how he would decide which Dem to endorse. "I will only support the candidate who promises to make me a spy," he said. "That would be so cool. I'd get to have all those high-tech gadgets. And I'd like to go on at least one mission a month. And it should be some place awesome like Prague or a moon base, although I'm willing to settle for Tahiti or the Rivieria--anywhere there's a chance for a jet ski chase." Speaking Wednesday in Michigan, Edwards revived the joke. "You know, I was promised a jet ski," he said. "And I haven’t gotten it yet." A hint? You be the judge. But don't be surprised if the former senator starts introducing himself as "Edwards. John Edwards" before November.

That said, it may be in Obama's best interest to put the kibbosh on this AG and 007 stuff and push for veep instead. After all, guess who won the election of 1884? That's right: Grover Cleveland.

UPDATE, 5:32 p.m.: What Edwards wants is still an open question, but according to Talking Points Memo, what Edwards has already received is not: the promise of a multi-day poverty tour. "Before dropping out of the presidential race, John Edwards secured a private commitment from Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton that they'd undertake a poverty tour during the general election as the Democratic nominee, according to multiple sources familiar with the talks," reports TPM's Greg Sargent. "During his drop-out speech last January, Edwards only said that the two Dems had 'both pledged' to "make ending poverty central to their campaign. An actual poverty tour, by contrast, would be a specific, protracted undertaking, possibly with Edwards himself, a possibility that came up in the private talks. Such a tour could be a major media event."

Can't say the guy isn't persuasive.
 

At 6:45 this evening, John Edwards strode on stage at the Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids to the sounds of Bruce Springsteen's "The Rising." "The reason I am here tonight is because the Democratic voters of America have made their choice," he said. "And so have I." His choice? Judging by all the "Change You Can Believe In" signs shimmering in the crowd--and the lanky black guy standing with him onstage--it was (drumroll, please) Barack Obama. Henceforth, the heavens opened, the American people wept and Chris Matthews and Co. began to prattle endlessly about how Edwards will help Obama win over those stubborn "white, working-class voters" who've been bedeviling him in the primaries.

The frantic coverage is a given. But will the Edwards endorsement actually change anything? It's unlikely--and the reason is timing. If the former North Carolina senator had taken a real risk and sided with the Illinois senator back when someone not named "Barack Obama" had even the remotest chance of clinching the nomination--say, before Super Tuesday, or Ohio, or even Indiana--he might have helped his blue-collar base overcome its suspicions, vote for his chosen candidate and bring this interminable battle to an end. But after Hillary Clinton failed to meet her own expectations in Indiana and North Carolina on May 6, every sentient life-form on Planet Earth pretty much agreed that the former First Lady wouldn't be representing the Democratic Party in November. From that point on, Edwards endorsing Obama was a foregone conclusion. Edwards is a Democrat. Obama's the Democratic nominee. It had to happen eventually.

All of which is just to say: there's not much that an Edwards endorsement does for Obama right now that it wouldn't do on, say, June 4. (Besides shifting the storyline from "Obama isn't winning the Bubba vote" to "maybe he will.") The "white, working-class" voters of West Virginia can't recast their ballots. And Clinton will still clobber Obama--think 25 points--in Kentucky on Tuesday, even if Edwards joins him on the stump. With the primaries essentially over, Edwards is basically stepping into his inevitable general election role--a credible liaison to blue-collar America who seeks to sway skeptics by saying "I'm one of you and here's why I support this guy"--a few weeks early. When I mused this morning about why seven percent of West Virginians supported Edwards in yesterday's primary, a reader from West Virginia named "mountaingal" wrote in to explain. "I can tell the difference between pandering (Hillary downing shots), charismatic fluff (Obama's rhetoric) and honest-to-goodness conviction. [Edwards] understands where we come from... His 'son of a mill worker' message... resonates with those with similar upbringings." For that reason, Edwards will undoubtedly help bring Democratic voters like "mountaingal" into the Obama fold by November. But again, he was always going to do that. Whether he starts today or in two weeks doesn't make much of a difference.

That said, it's worth wondering how many mountaingals and mountainguys Edwards can "deliver" for Obama on Election Day--and whether those gains would actually help Obama overcome John McCain. The signs from his brief 2008 bid are somewhat encouraging. In South Carolina--the only remotely "Appalachian" state where Edwards competed--he won white men, whites over 30 and whites overall, despite earning only 18 percent of the vote to Clinton's 27 and Obama's 55. The only problem? Edwards has already attempted a similar feat on the national stage--and it didn't work out so well. In 2004, John Kerry captured only 41 percent of the white vote--not enough to defeat George Bush--and lost in Edwards' home state of North Carolina by a dozen points. Back then, Edwards wasn't just another surrogate; he was Kerry's running mate. So his record is mixed at best.

Tonight, Edwards opened his remarks with reams of praise for Clinton--and an explicit call for unity. "When this nomination battle is over--and it will be over soon--brothers and sisters, we must come together as Democrats and in the fall stand up for what matters for the future of America," he said. "We are a stronger party because Hillary Clinton is a Democrat." A gracious and necessary message, but even here it's unlikely that Edwards' timing will prove particularly consequential. Clinton is determined to battle at least until Montana and South Dakota vote on June 3, and any effort to declare a victor before then will only encourage her supporters to dig their heels in deeper. Far from changing any minds--other than those of a few fence-sitting superdelegates, perhaps--tonight's endorsement will merely reinforce the existing contours of the contest. The Democrats will come together eventually, and Edwards will do his duty. But until then, he--like the rest of us--is just going to have to wait.

Apparently, 26,181 West Virginians are either unaware of that fact--or don't really care.

When the Mountain State primary returns rolled in last night, no one was surprised to see Hillary Clinton carrying 67 percent of the vote, or Barack Obama finishing a distant second with 26. That's precisely what the polls predicted. But John Edwards with seven percent--more than a quarter of Obama's vote? This was a guy who hadn't been a living, breathing candidate for president for three-and-a-half months, and had only drawn four percent in Nevada when he still was. It's worth noting that Edwards' name has remained on most post-Jan. 30 ballots, and in the early stages of his electoral afterlife, he scrounged up some support: 10 percent in Oklahoma, five percent in Arizona and four percent in Tennessee on Super Tuesday. But since then, he's only managed to snag two percent (Ohio), one percent (Maryland, Virginia, Wisconsin, Rhode Island, Texas, Vermont, Mississippi) or zero percent (everywhere else) of the vote. Which makes his seven-percent finish in West Virginia all the more surprising--and significant.

Most pundits are interpreting the Edwards resurrection as a bad omen for Obama. It "presage[s] problems for him in a general election match-up with [John] McCain, particularly in rural states such as West Virginia," writes the Politico's Kenneth P. Vogel. And insofar as Obama will inevitably face McCain in November--unless, of course, a sperm whale slides onshore and swallows him whole--that much is true; you can lump these Edwards voters with the 47 percent of West Virginia Democrats who told exit pollsters they'd vote for McCain over Obama, or simply refrain from voting.  But it's worth remembering that Edwards is not only white--he's a guy. Plenty of Mountain State Democrats--okay, most--dissed Obama by voting for Clinton. The 26,181 who went out of their way to cast useless ballots for a white, male non-candidate were voicing their opposition to Clinton, too. Making history? they thought. I'll pass. All of which goes to show that neither of the remaining Democrats--despite Clinton's claims to the contrary--would stand a particularly strong chance of winning West Virginia in the fall. If a full seven percent of Democratic primary voters (the most loyal of party loyalists, mind you) are so repulsed by both viable Dems that they'd vote for the nonexistent Edwards instead, just imagine how the other half of the electorate--i.e. the half that doesn't like any Democrats, and that carried Bush to a 13 point victory there in 2004--will break on Election Day. Almost heaven? Try a little lower.

If his strong showing basically proves that his beloved Democratic party will lose the Mountain State to McCain, why did I joke earlier that Edwards is smiling at home in Chapel Hill this morning? Call it the "I Told You So" factor. Before Clinton's recent populist transformation, Edwards occupied the post of pugilistic people's candidate. (He wore jeans; she wears pantsuits. Enough said.) And last fall, his campaign's main argument was--surprise, surprise--electability. "It's not just a question of who you like," he said in Iowa. "It's not just a question of whose vision you are impressed with. It's also a question of who is most likely to win the general election." Like Clinton, Edwards' logic relied on the implicit notion that some swing voters aren't ready to elect an African-American; unlike Clinton, it also relied on the implicit notion that some swing voters aren't ready to elect a woman. "Obama's drawback is obvious," Cliff Ferguson, an Edwards supporter from Hamburg, Iowa, told me last October. "If he gets the nomination... all kinds of people will crawl out from under their rocks and throw mud. Boy, it'll be ugly. And it's the same with Hillary, 'cause she's a woman. Attacks are all they have, the Republicans."

If Clinton loses the Democratic nomination, and Obama loses the general election, it may look, in the end, like the white dude was right all along.
 

As news of Hillary Clinton's latest electoral gambit spread through political circles this morning, it wasn't hard to imagine Barack Obama snapping at aide aboard ObamaAir: Why didn't I think of that?

With good reason. While Obama has been quick to confess that he'd gladly offer cabinet-level positions to Democratic heavyweights Al Gore and even Bill Clinton ("there are few more talented people"), he's never pledged to create such a gig just for them. As of today, Clinton effectively has. Her target, however, is neither the Goracle nor her husband. It's John Edwards, the former North Carolina senator and vice-presidential candidate who put up a spirited fight for the Democratic nomination before dropping out in the wake of a Jan. 29 loss in his birth state of South Carolina. In a speech this afternoon at the Mason Temple in Memphis, where officials will pay tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on the 40th anniversary of his assassination, Clinton is expected to announce that as president she will hire a “poverty czar" devoted solely to “ending poverty as we know it." Coincidentally, Edwards based his 2008 presidential campaign on battling poverty, which he often called “the cause of my life.” 

In case you missed it--oh, the perils of print!--that "coincidentally" was ironic. When Edwards withdrew from the race, Obama and Clinton lavished praise on their vanquished rival, and in February both "secretly" pow-wowed with him at home in Chapel Hill. “There is a lot John and I have in common,” Clinton said. “I will be a fighter, and I intend to ask John Edwards to be a part of anything I do in the White House.” At the time, pundits (including yours truly) assumed that Edwards would endorse Obama; after all, he frequently attacked Clinton for her ties to lobbyists and grouped himself with the Illinois senator as fighters against the "forces of the status quo." But for two months, the millworker's son has been mum. Now, with North Carolina's potentially pivotal primary fast approaching, Clinton is desperate to cement her support, both there and elsewhere, among the white, working-class voters who fueled Edwards's bid (and currently comprise her sturdiest firewall). And so she delivers what amounts to a job offer--with the hope (one can only assume) of an endorsement in return. 

Could Clinton actually convince the coveted ex-candidate? Don't count her out. After a long hibernation, the Edwards's recent resurfacing--on Tuesday, Elizabeth attacked John McCain's health care plan, and John appeared yesterday at a wireless industry showcase, where he made headlines by saying he would not again accept the veep slot--hints that they may view the current moment (before millions of blue-collar voters cast ballots in North Carolina, Indiana and Pennsylvania) as the senator's best opportunity to influence the race. And there are signs that Edwards may not be as predisposed to Obama as originally presumed. Last week, New York magazine's John Heilemann reported (according to an anonymous, unaffiliated Democratic strategist) that Obama came off as "glib and aloof" in his initial, post-exit conversation with Edwards and "dug himself in deeper" during his Chapel Hill sit-down, "getting into a fight with Elizabeth about health care, insisting that his plan is universal (a position she considers a crock), high-handedly criticizing Clinton’s plan (and by extension Edwards’s) for its insurance mandate." Meanwhile, writes Heilemann, a "solicitous and respectful" Clinton "engaged Edwards in a lengthy policy discussion." Apparently, even Elizabeth (who's reputed to "hate [Hillary's] guts") was impressed--a fact that, when considered alongside those parallels on health care policy, could easily account for Edwards's conflicted silence.

The larger question, of course, is whether an Edwards endorsement would even help Clinton in North Carolina. According to one recent poll, the answer is no. In fact, the stats from Public Policy Polling suggest that Edwards would actually hurt Clinton's chances to win the state, with an unsettling 31 percent of Tar Heels saying they're less likely to support an Edwards-backed Hillary and only about one-third as many (12 percent) more likely to break her way with JRE onboard. What's more, according to Slate's Trailhead team, "35 percent of those Clinton-Edwards sourpusses are currently Clinton supporters"--meaning that "Edwards is so toxic that one-third of Hillary’s Carolinian base would think twice before voting for her." No wonder the guy decided it'd be more convenient to run for president than reelection.

In any case, it's hardly certain that Edwards will take Clinton's bait. “I really do not expect John Edwards to endorse at this point," said former top strategist Joe Trippi in a recent Washington Post chat. "Or I should say I would be surprised if he does. But then again he could surprise me.”

Memo to Obama: we hear that Edwards has a soft spot for hamburgers, soda and golden retrievers. Your move, senator.
 

Edwards: Not the best way to convey authenticity.

Expertinent is a regular Stumper column featuring interviews with experts on the news of the day.

Last month, I stumbled upon an interesting article in--of all places--Time magazine. (Grrrr.) Written by John Cloud, "Synthetic Authenticity" riffed on the latest book by renowned business consultants Joe Pine and Jim Gilmore, who run an Aurora, Ohio, consulting firm called Strategic Horizons. (According to Cloud, they enjoy "an almost cultlike following in the business world because of their ability to accurately predict consumer sentiments." Go figure.) In "Authenticity," as Cloud explains, Pine and Gilmore "argue that the virtualization of life (friends aren't friends unless you "confirm" them on Facebook; reporters are now all bloggers, and vice versa) has led to a deep consumer yearning for the authentic."

This sounded about right to me. It's no mystery that people purchase a product nowadays not only because it's low in cost or high in quality, but because it somehow reflects who they are. (iPhone, anyone?) And it's clear that such consumers are attracted to brands that achieve an aura, however contrived, of authenticity--Starbucks, Apple, Volkswagen. That said, my first thought upon reading Cloud's article wasn't about business. It was (predictably) about politics.

Politicians, of course, are fake. Everyone knows that. But more and more it seems that what they're required to fake is being real. John Edwards represents "Real Change." Mike Huckabee is an "authentic conservative." And John McCain rides his "Straight Talk Express." (George Allen, on the other hand, was too real.) Wondering how our increasing desire for authenticity has influenced the 2008 presidential race--which seems likely to end with a win for one of two candidates, McCain or Barack Obama, who have labored mightily to sell themselves as authentic--I gave Pine and Gilmore a call. Excerpts from our chat:

How have you seen the "authenticity" concept play out this cycle, and how has it been different than previous cycles?
Gilmore: This is the first cycle where authenticity is really in the fore, both in how people view the candidates and how pundits describe the race. You can have hardly any article out there today that doesn't talk about the level of perceived authenticity of this or another candidate. I daresay that in the end, whoever wins is going to be the one whom more voters perceive as authentic.

Pine: I've joked in the past that it seems like every single debate, as soon as they go to the talking heads--and David Gergen stands out most in my mind--the very first soundbite is evaluating them based on authenticity. "I think Mike Huckabee came off as the most real." "I think Hillary came off as most authentic." It's always the first soundbite.

But is that really different than previous cycles? And if so, what accounts for the increasing emphasis on authenticity?
Gilmore: Certainly it's the first time that it's been vocalized to the extent it has. The perception of phon-aticians...

Pine: Did you just say phon-aticians?

[Laughter]

Gilmore: There you go. The perception of politicians being phony has always been there. But now it's being vocalized in a way that parallels what's happening with economic offerings. Consumers want to buy what they perceive to be real. Similarly, in any political offering, voters want to buy what they perceive to be real. There's a correlation here.

What are the cultural reasons for this increasing emphasis on authenticity?
Gilmore: There are a bunch of factors contributing to that desire. First of all, there's the emergence of the experience economy--in an increasingly "unreal" world, people are vacationing at Atlantis and going to American Girl Place and having the Geek Squad repair their computer. That causes a desire for authenticity. Then there's the automation of services. That's the second driver. You call a company and hope to reach a "real person." Life is becoming more and more mediated. Third, the rise of Boomers and the rise of postmodernism also contribute--people believe there is something different or unique about our time. And finally it's the failures of our social institutions. It's there--along with not-for-profits, businesses and religious and educational institutions--that we identify the phoniness of politicians and government as contributing our desire for authenticity. People today don't just want cost or quality, they want real. It's only natural for that desire to extend to our politicians.

They're searching, in other words, for people who contrast what they're bombarded with every day.
Gilmore: Right. In a phony, contrived, mediated world, you have to stand out. And you stand out by rendering yourself authentic.

But isn't "authenticity," as you define it, just another contrivance? For businesses, it's not necessarily being authentic that matters, right? It's conveying authenticity. I'm interested in hearing how you evaluate the presidential candidates as brands.
Gilmore: Most of the candidates who came off as inauthentic were eliminated early on. I did an exercise awhile ago where I decided to go find the number one most-viewed video of each candidate on YouTube. My hypothesis was that the most-viewed video might not reach an overwhelming percentage of the population, but it will be indicative of a sentiment that's more pervasive. It will encapsulate what the populace really thinks of each candidate. So John Edwards' most-watched video. Can you guess?

The one where he's fluffing his hair.
Pine: Exactly. To the tune of "She's So Pretty."

Gilmore: Now, it may have had only 500,000 views, but it's iconic of what the general population thinks of him. Boom, gone--fake. In doing the exercise, I came up with this construct: earlier in the primary season, the Democrats seemed to be proclaiming their own authenticity--"Real Change," the "real" this or that. Whereas the Republicans seemed to be pointing fingers at each other and calling each other fake. The Romney folks posted videos like, "The Real Rudy?" And Giuliani responded with "The Real Mitt?" McCain sort of stayed away from that. As we write in our book, if you're authentic you don't have to say you're authentic. Pointing fingers at somebody else and saying they're fake is the same as saying you're real, and that backfires.

The same thing happened to Edwards, who made "Real Change" his slogan at one point. Thou doth protest too much.
Gilmore: Exactly.

Let's talk about another casualty of the primary process: Mitt Romney. He was unquestionably the savviest businessman of the bunch, and yet some would say that the way he was branded, in terms of conveying authenticity, was completely incompetent. Do you agree?
Pine: His basic problem was the perceived flip-flops. He said one thing to get elected governor of the very liberal state of Massachusetts, but he was saying very different things to get elected in the more conservative party.

Gilmore: When we're talking to businesses about authenticity, we tell them that they have to understand their heritage. Well, his heritage was one that was very difficult for a large portion of the Republican party to swallow--or to believe was credible.

How should Romney have handled his heritage? Was there any way he could've packaged himself to seem authentic? Or was it a fatal flaw?
Pine: There are ways. Ronald Reagan, for example, signed the first abortion bill in California. And when he was running for president, one of the things he did was talk about how much he regretted it. You could see the emotion in doing that.

Gilmore: But in 1976, Reagan had the passage of a dozen years since he'd done that. If in four or eight years Romney had run, with four or eight years of being decidedly pro-life under his belt, he would've seemed more authentic.

Pine: It gets back to one of the points we make about economic offerings: don't say you're authentic, but render yourself authentic. That rendering--particularly if you're trying to change perceptions of yourself--does take a number of years.

Gilmore: In terms of authenticity, I find so interesting Romney's faith speech versus Obama's. Obama's was grounded in a reaction to an actual event--the media uncovering this venom from his pastor. If Romney would've had to react to some footage that had gotten out of a senior Mormon muckety-muck going off the rails, then his speech would've been grounded in, "Hey, I disavow all of this."

But instead it looked like an unprompted political calculation?
Gilmore: Right. Here's the thing: anybody who self-proclaims authenticity in any sphere--politics, business, wherever--is dubious. His speech was self-induced. Obama laid back. He responded to an actual event. That was grounded in reality.

AFTER THE JUMP: OBAMA, CLINTON, AND "AUTHENTICITY" IN THE GENERAL ELECTION...

My NEWSWEEK colleague Howard Fineman has a very smart (and very timely) column up about whether Edwards will endorse--and why endorsements in general matter more now than they have in decades. Excerpts:

Edwards:

The big question on the Democratic side is who John Edwards will support now that he's dropping out of the race. I'm told that Edwards's decision was very closely held, meaning he and his wife alone knew the score. As of Tuesday morning, he still had an ambitious schedule planned in the Super Tuesday states. But Tuesday afternoon he notified his staff that he wanted to go to New Orleans instead. Everyone knew what that meant. That devastated city was where Edwards had begun his campaign in the name of the poor and forgotten. Now he would return to say that his campaign had failed, but that the cause lived on. As for his endorsement plans, they remain unclear. His representatives had been reaching out to Obama's high command for weeks, but I am told that they rebuffed him. A top aide to Edwards cautioned not to assume that Edwards would endorse Obama. "He's gained a lot of respect for Hillary, for her toughness in all that she has been through." That could just be a negotiating ploy on Edwards's part. We'll see.

Endorsements: 

If the 2008 campaign has proved anything so far, it is that endorsements DO matter. In fact, they may well matter more than they have in decades. Voters are too busy, distracted and ideologically confused to make fateful political decisions on their own. They are looking for guidance. And now the race is entering a phase–Super-Duper-Mega Tsunami Tuesday—when endorsements may prove indispensable.

You also need character witnesses. Unlike the early, intimate states of Iowa and New Hampshire, voters can't examine the candidates up close, like a piece of fruit in the market. And with a resurgence of ethnic-identity politics, especially on the Democratic side, candidates need endorsers to give them entrée across social borders.

Read the rest here. 

So much for all the talk of playing kingmaker at a brokered convention.

According to CNN, the former North Carolina senator has told his top advisers of his decision to withdraw from the Democratic race and is expected to announce in New Orleans at 1:00 p.m. It's a fitting backdrop considering that Edwards formally launched his bid in the ravaged Lower Ninth Ward a little over a year ago, on Dec. 28, 2006. Yesterday, the Edwards press shop sent out a release touting the appearance as a major address on poverty, and it's likely that Edwards will keep the focus squarely on what he has called his "life's work."

Here's my colleague Howard Fineman on the decision: "I'm told that Edwards's decision was very closely held, meaning he and his wife alone knew the score. As of Tuesday morning, he still had an ambitious schedule planned in the Super Tuesday states. But Tuesday afternoon he notified his staff that he wanted to go to New Orleans instead. Everyone knew what that meant. That devastated city was where Edwards had begun his campaign in the name of the poor and forgotten. Now he would return to say that his campaign had failed, but that the cause lived on."

Expect a lot of chatter today about which rival--Clinton or Obama--Edwards supporters will choose. It's tough to game out. On one hand, it seems obvious that many will flock to Obama, the other "change" candidate railing against lobbyists and "Washington-style" politics; on the other, Edwards attracted strong support from downscale, working-class voters, and they tend to prefer Clinton to Obama. I'm not sure anyone will know until the returns come in on Feb. 5.

Either way, huge news. Edwards consistently won 15 percent of the electorate--a swath of support large enough to seriously alter the calculus of Super Tuesday, which has to be a consideration given the timing. And an endorsement--one can only imagine Obama--would amplify their impact. According to Fineman, Edwards' "representatives had been reaching out to Obama's high command for weeks, but I am told that they rebuffed him. A top aide to Edwards cautioned not to assume that Edwards would endorse Obama. 'He's gained a lot of respect for Hillary, for her toughness in all that she has been through.' That could just be a negotiating ploy on Edwards's part." Indeed.

Conveniently, Obama just told ABC that "he has let former Sen. John Edwards know that he would like his endorsement should Edwards decide to drop out of the race." 

Stay tuned. 

UPDATE, 10:54 a.m.: A reader asks if there's been "any mention of Elizabeth's health." No idea, but I was wondering the same thing. As far as I could tell, she didn't do any stumping during the closing days in South Carolina, leaving most of the family surrogate work to daughter Cate and parents-in-law Wallace and Bobbie. It was unusual--she was all over Iowa and New Hampshire--and I noted her absence at the time. Here's hoping all is well. 

UPDATE, 11:06 a.m.: Obama beats Clinton to the punch on praising Edwards. "At a time when our politics is too focused on who’s up and who’s down, he made a nation focus again on who matters," he says in a statement. "The New Orleans child without a home, the West Virginia miner without a job, the families who live in that other America that is not seen or heard or talked about by our leaders in Washington." Clinton's only email since news broke of Edwards' withdrawal? "Victory in Florida."

You sit on the floor outside. And get your picture taken doing it.

  

Why, you ask, was I late? Three words: Maurice's Gourmet Barbecue. Yes, again. How can something so wrong feel so right?

Photo from yesterday's John Edwards event in Columbia by Robert Willett of the Raleigh (N.C.) News & Observer. For the rest of his gallery, click here.

COLUMBIA, S.C.--Nancy Sharpe is regretting her decision. A registered Republican, Sharpe, 76, went to the polls last Saturday and did what a plurality of South Carolina Republican primary voters did: cast her ballot for John McCain. "I thought he'd be best qualified to lead our country in a time of war," she says.

But when I saw Sharpe cheering today at a John Edwards Voter Empowerment Town Hall here in Columbia, she sighed and said that she'd had a change of heart. Her fondness for Edwards, a South Carolina native, was nothing new. Like the former senator, Sharpe's parents both worked in cotton mills--"Pa" from the age of six, when he started as a sweeper, and "Mama" from the age of twelve, when her adopted father passed away and she decided "to give back." "Edwards still remembers," she says. "A lot of people who worked in the cotton mills are still around, 'cause it wasn't too long ago that they closed 'em here in Columbia. I relate to Edwards, his parents and what they're saying. He'd be a president of the people."

But that wasn't enough, I asked, for her to wait and vote Democratic?  "Well, Edwards got better this past week," Sharpe said. "What it was, I don't know. I think he was so mature when Hillary and Obama was fightin'. He stood back and said, 'How silly.'"

Edwards has spent the four days since Monday's vicious debate making the exact same point--and if it's winning over a Republican like Sharpe, it's probably winning over some Democrats, too. "I'm proud to be part of the 'grown-up' wing of the party," he told today's crowd, even though most of them were students; it's also the theme of his new ad (above). "This is the New York and Chicago-style politics of personal attacks and trying to tear people down. South Carolina deserves better than that." Edwards may have spent the weeks leading up to Iowa relentlessly slamming Clinton, but now he's hoping an old political rule holds true: if two rivals are exchanging blows, it's always the third man who benefits. The latest polls show signs of life. On Thursday, Clemson found Edwards in a statistical tie with Clinton for second place (17-20) among past South Carolina Democratic primary voters, and SurveyUSA has him up seven points from last week, to 22 percent--with the New York Senator down seven to 29.

Edwards won't catch Obama, who typically laps him by 20 points. But Hillary has largely ceded Saturday's contest to the Illinois senator, spending much of the week stumping and fundraising in Super Tuesday states. Today, Edwards hammered the former First Lady for "jetting in for a campaign event and flying back" and reminded listeners that he's "from here and understands [their] concerns." "When somebody is turning their back on South Carolina the week before the primary, what do you think will happen after they're elected president?" he asked. It's a good question. If enough of the sizable segment of Democrats who are still undecided break--like Sharpe--for the guy who "relates," expect the unexpected on Saturday night.

If you thought the insults, accusations and attacks would stop after Monday night's feisty Democratic debate in Myrtle Beach, S.C.--well, you were wrong.

Yesterday, Hillary Clinton reiterated her debate-night swipes at Obama on a host of issues, including Ronald Reagan, Iraq and health care. The goal: to undermine Obama's greatest strength--the perception that he's not a typical politician--by painting him as a timid, flip-flopping panderer (i.e., a typical politician). In response, the Obama camp said Clinton and her husband are "willing to say anything, distort anything, and twist anything in order to win an election." I am rubber, you are glue...

Undeterred, Clinton is out today with a radio ad in South Carolina pounding Obama again for noting that the "Republicans were the party of ideas for a pretty long chunk of time there over the last 10, 15 years,” and Obama goes negative for the first time--on bankruptcy, NAFTA and economic stimulus--in talking points circulated to surrogates.

With no end to the nastiness in sight, we here at Stumper headquarters planned to spend the morning playing referee--not just reporting the back-and-forth without comment, but providing context and clarifications that would show readers when the candidates were right and when they were wrong.

But our brilliant partners at FactCheck.org beat us to the punch.

Here, then, is Viveca Novak's valuable score sheet. It's a much-needed reality check in this increasingly bitter battle for the Democratic nomination.

Summary
In one of the liveliest debates of the 2008 presidential campaign, the three top Democrats slugged it out in Myrtle Beach, S.C. We note some low blows:

Clinton falsely accused Obama of saying he "really liked the ideas of the Republicans" including private Social Security accounts and deficit spending. Not true. The entire 49-minute interview to which she refers contains no endorsement of private Social Security accounts or deficit spending, and Obama specifically scorned GOP calls for tax cuts.

Obama falsely denied endorsing single-payer government health insurance when he first ran for the Senate, saying, "I never said that we should try to go ahead and get single-payer." But in fact he gave a speech in 2003 saying, "I happen to be a proponent of a single-payer health care program."

Edwards misleadingly claimed, "I was the one who beat John McCain" in a recent CNN poll. The problem is that there is a more recent CNN poll, one that shows either Clinton or Obama beating McCain and doesn't include Edwards.

Analysis
Just three Democratic candidates took part in the scorching debate cosponsored by CNN and the Congressional Black Caucus in Myrtle Beach, S.C.: Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama and John Edwards. It was the next-to-last such encounter scheduled for the Democrats prior to the Feb. 5 "Super Duper Tuesday" showdown when more than 20 states hold nominating contests. South Carolina Democrats go to the polls Saturday.

I Love the '80s!

Clinton attacked Obama for supposedly supporting Republican ideas, which she said included federal deficits and "privatizing" Social Security:

    Clinton: [He] has said in the last week that he really liked the ideas of the Republicans over the last 10 to 15 years, and we can give you the exact quote. ... They were ideas like privatizing Social Security, like moving back from a balanced budget and a surplus to deficit and debt.

Obama pushed back, saying he had never endorsed such notions:

Clinton: [You] talked about the Republicans having ideas over the last 10 to 15 years.

Obama: I didn't say they were good ones.

Clinton: Well, you can read the context of it.

Obama: Well, I didn't say they were good ones. ...

Clinton: It certainly came across in the way that it was presented...

We can't speak to how things "came across" to Clinton, but we've listened to the entire interview and to our ears, it's just flatly false that Obama said he "really liked the ideas of the Republicans." Clinton is referring to what Obama told the editorial board of the Reno Gazette-Journal. A video is available on the Internet.

Here's what Obama actually said in the portion to which Clinton referred:

    Obama (Jan. 14, 2008): The Republican approach has played itself out. I think it's fair to say that the Republicans were the party of ideas for a pretty long chunk of time there over the last 10, 15 years, in the sense that they were challenging conventional wisdom. Now, you've heard it all before. You look at the economic policies when they're being debated among the presidential candidates, it's all tax cuts. Well, we know, we've done that; we've tried it. That's not really going to solve our energy problems, for example.

There's a difference between praising someone for having ideas and praising the idea itself. Obama is doing the former – and just as clearly not doing the latter. He says the GOP approach has "played itself out," for example.

It's also false to imply – as Clinton did – that Obama endorsed Republican proposals to set up private Social Security accounts or that he praised deficit spending. We listened to the entire 49-minute interview, and Obama said no such thing.

Read the rest here.

NEWSWEEK's Richard Wolffe on tonight's heated Democratic debate:

Family therapists might want to study the two Democratic get-togethers over the last week. Both were nominally about race in America, and  both involved the same three candidates. One became known as the Kumbaya conversation, where the candidates embraced one another's records on civil rights and racial issues. The other was a bloodbath, where the same candidates slashed and sliced their way through each other's reputation, voting record and campaign quotes.

In Las Vegas last week, Clinton insisted that Democrats needed to hug each other more and start swinging at the real enemy. "We are so  different from the Republicans on all of these issues, in every way that affects the future of the people that we care so much about," she 
said. "So I think that it's appropriate on Dr King's birthday, his actual birthday, to recognize that all of us are here as the result of  what he did, all of the sacrifice, including giving his life, along with so many of the other icons that we honor."

"We're all family in the Democratic Party," Hillary Clinton said in the cozy Las Vegas get-together. In Myrtle Beach, S.C., the family they most resembled was the Sopranos.

In Monday's debate, Clinton still lambasted Republicans—but implied that some of her colleagues might admire them.  "The facts are that [Obama] has said in the last week that he really liked the ideas of the Republicans over the last 10 to 15 years," she said, referring to Obama's previous comments about the Reagan era. "Now, I personally think they had ideas, but they were bad ideas."

After the two of them squabbled for several minutes—including over who had the right to talk—Obama tried to quash the notion that he was not a real member of the family. "What I said was that Ronald Reagan was a transformative political figure because he was able to get Democrats to vote against their economic interests to form a majority to push through their agenda, an agenda that I objected to," he said. "Because while I was working on those streets watching those folks see their jobs shift overseas, you were a corporate lawyer sitting on the board at Wal-Mart."

Family disputes are never pretty, but any good psychologist would recognize the three classic defense mechanisms on display: denial, repression and suppression.

At last week's debate, and for most of the last year, the top three Democrats suppressed their natural competitive feelings for the greater family good. Perhaps at times they even repressed the resentment that simmered among them—the nasty feeling that the others were standing in the way of their rightful position as the presidential nominee. Of course, they may have simply been in denial, refusing to admit their obvious afflictions as ambitious politicians.

It was compelling to watch all those psychological problems burst into the open on Monday night, just days before the South Carolina primary.

Read the rest here.