TONE AND HABIT

Is the age of the soundbite over?

Is the age of the soundbite coming to a close?  If it is, then we have Peggy Noonan to thank, in part.

One of the many positive things to emerge out of the Obama candidacy this year is the great revival of the art of the speech.  Sure, part of Obama's appeal is that melifluous voice, but the thoughts aren't bad either.  Particularly noteworthy is the absence of soundbites.

Obama's March 18 performance, The Philadelphia Speech on Race, prompted pundits to comment as much on its form as on its substance.  No soundbites! they exclaimed.  Newsweek columnist Jonathan Alter had maybe the best take on it, writing about how he'd read an advance copy of the speech, then remarked to his wife that "it was well written but contained no eight- to 15-second sound bites to counteract the Rev. Jeremiah Wright Jr.'s greatest hits. Under the old rules, a 37-minute speech full of complex ideas didn't stand a chance against the excitement of 'good TV.' " 

We all know what happened next.  Nearly 6 million views on YouTube is what happened next.  That phenomenon led Alter to wonder in print if the age of the soundbite may be coming to a close.

It was a good piece, but he caught the trend about 10 years too late.  In 1998, in fact, former Reagan speechwriter Peggy Noonan recounted the distinguished history of the soundbite from television of the 1960s to today, and like the great speechwriter she is advised us to "never, ever try to write one."  "It would be like being a songwriter and trying to write a great five-second section of a song," Noonan wrote.

But Noonan had hope.  In the first place, she said, the soundbite phenomenon, and the subsequent dumbing down of political rhetoric, had gotten just about as bad as they could.  Second, she said, history's great sound bites (and there are plenty ...) came because they "authentically emerged from thought."  They emerged from a sea of ideas, not a contrived tactic to get eight seconds on the evening news.

"You must be serious when you're doing serious work," Noonan says.  And finally, 10 years after Noonan lamented that things had gotten as bad as they could, we have a candidate who can express 37 minutes of authentic thought.  Hurray.

Authenticity is important, these days.  How important?  Next post ...

Local candidates have the power to inspire us

Spring in Tallahassee is the season of cynicism, especially in an election year. Almost immediately after the end of Florida's 60-day Legislative session — a little before, some would say — the campaigns for re-election begin. This can make a person skeptical of the debates playing out under the domes of the House and Senate chambers.

Monday night, however, you might have found a partial remedy for the cynicism that infects many in the political arena. City Hall was hosting a candidate forum, and many of those who spoke were running for their first office. Their speeches were, simply, heartening. Yes, they were sometimes amateurish. But in this time and place, where chilly calculation too often prevails, the unpracticed delivery only made them more heartwarming.

Some speakers were scripted; some were not. Some had professional support; some were flying solo. There were a couple who were clearly quaking in their shoes as they faced a room of fellow citizens, straining to express in words what they so deeply felt about the path of our city, our state and our nation.

It's not easy. I admired them, each and every one, for their courage, for doing one of the most difficult things any person can attempt: getting up in front of an impassive group of your fellows and trying to motivate them. That may be the most elusive skill in all of human endeavor.

Many of the candidates spoke about what they no doubt thought was expected — the FCAT, state workers, the environment, the usual parade of endorsements — but there were often unexpected and transcendent moments. Was anyone else paying attention when one candidate asked, quite sincerely, "Please give me a chance to serve this country that has done so much for me"? I know he meant it, and I felt it. That, my friends, is a love of America that simply cannot be mocked.

I was also a little sad, because I knew what would await the winners. It is a tough world. Their real education will come later, when they are inevitably caught in the pincers of public opinion. One day, they will have to vote on a tough issue, and they will be lobbied by good friends, each on opposite sides of the issue. No middle ground will seem available, and no bipartisanship. Then, perhaps, they will learn to dodge, to bob and to weave.

In politics, fiercely held opinions become fiercely held liabilities — fixed targets for the broadsides coming in the mail, on radio and in the 30-second TV spots. If they go far enough, if they rise high enough, then the stakes will become more personal. They will be in the company of people who play hardball, and every action past and present will be scrutinized. Some will become fighters, and some will decide that it is not worth the toll — and the pain.

Maybe that is why we too often view the political process with a jaded eye. Playing politics for any length of time can affect the psyche in about the same way as reading too much Nietzsche, and too much of that isn't good for anyone. After a while, you expect to be manipulated and coerced. You just don't expect to be inspired.

But they are all good people, these candidates. I imagined what it might be like if tomorrow the great engines of civilization began to seize up. What if the formal assemblies of states and nations began to dissolve, and the human race withdrew back into the small tribes that were our first governments. These are the men and women who would ask to lead us, taking charge not by force of arms, but simply by promising that our lights will stay on and our garbage will be taken away. They seemed, to a sentimental eye, to be faithful public servants, one and all. Let's give them a hand.