If 12 candidates were stranded on a desert island…

Presidential debates as improv theater

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5 minute read
When Bernie sank Michael (above), 1988: No such thing as a bad question. (Photo: YouTube.com.)
When Bernie sank Michael (above), 1988: No such thing as a bad question. (Photo: YouTube.com.)

Broad Street Review readers were shocked last year when our editor Judy Weightman revealed her secret life as a student in an improvisational comedy class. (Click here.) Since then, hardly a week passes without someone buttonholing me on the street to ask: Where does she get the time? And why is Judy learning improv when she should be attending plays and concerts, editing articles, writing reviews, and plotting long-range strategy?

OK, OK — no one ever asked me any such thing. That was just a rhetorical trick to entice you into this discussion of the Republican presidential debates — which do, after all, require some skill at improvisational acting.

After last month’s debate on CNBC, Republican National Chairman Reince Priebus complained that the moderators had “engaged in a series of ‘gotcha’ questions, petty and mean-spirited in tone, and designed to embarrass the candidates.” He has a point. These debates are really auditions for the presidency — and what U.S. president ever had to confront petty and mean-spirited questions designed to embarrass him?

Shallow medium

The CNBC moderators did indeed ask many insipid questions (on the order of: “Mr. Trump, yesterday the Toonerville Bugle called you a stupid son of a bitch. You have two minutes to respond”). But good golly — we’re talking about TV journalists here — people who spend more time choosing their wardrobes and blow-drying their hair than studying issues. Have you never wondered — as I have, while watching the morning news — what large breasts have to do with meteorological expertise? TV by its nature is a shallow visual medium, and any president will have to deal with that medium 24/7. As President Obama observed last week, if these candidates can’t handle debate moderators, how can they deal with Vladimir Putin?

The great value of TV news people and talk-show hosts lies in their ability to think on their feet — a talent that, God knows, most of us print journalists (and many politicians too) lack. Improv theater is about thinking on your feet without a script — a necessary skill for politicians, especially in the TV age.

Reince Priebus to the contrary, there’s no such thing as a bad question in a political debate. What matters isn’t the quality of the questions but how the candidates field them. The trouble with the debates so far is that they haven’t really been debates, more like multiple press conferences between the moderators and the candidates. If the moderators would get out of the way and just let the candidates argue among themselves, we’d get much more useful insight into their characters.

Shaw vs. Dukakis

Just once, I’d like to see a debate follow an improv format. Put the dozen or so Republican candidates on an empty stage with no moderator whatsoever, and let them spend the next two hours organizing the debate themselves, all in front of the camera. The results would reveal more about their character and leadership potential than any moderator’s questions about health care or foreign policy.

Complaints about moderators go back at least to 1988, when Bernard Shaw of CNN popped the ultimate “gotcha” question to the Democratic presidential candidate, Michael Dukakis. Since Dukakis had vigorously opposed capital punishment, Shaw asked: “Governor, if Kitty Dukakis were raped and murdered, would you favor an irrevocable death penalty for the killer?”

Shaw has been criticized ever since for posing such a hostile question. In fact it was a perfectly legitimate question — and Dukakis’s failure to seize that opportunity to dramatize the senselessness of capital punishment effectively sank his campaign, and rightly so: For all his sound judgment on the issue, in that moment Dukakis flunked the test of inspirational leadership. (To hear Dukakis’s defensive and evasive response, click here.)

What I’d say

So, how would I have responded to Shaw’s question? I thought you’d never ask. The following reply clocks in at just about two minutes:

“Bernard, if my wife were raped and murdered, I would strangle the killer with my bare hands. I would slice off his private parts and feed them to the dogs. I would torch his bones and burn down his house for good measure. (Pause.)

“Now, would these acts of retribution — whether by me or by the state — undo the rape or the murder? They would not. Would they deter anyone else from raping or killing? Not according to most studies. Would they make me feel better or give me a sense of closure? Again, not according to most studies. Would they elevate our society? You and I both know they would debase it.

“And all of this assumes, of course, that I know with certainty the identity of my wife’s killer. But I’m a fallible human. So are police, prosecutors, judges, and jurors. Fallible humans make mistakes, especially under pressure. When you have the death penalty, mistakes can’t be corrected. Innocent people get executed while guilty people go free.

“Let’s face it, Bernard — no matter how you slice it, capital punishment is bad news. And it wastes billions of dollars to boot. So let’s get smart about fighting crime. Instead of feeding our basest emotions, let’s spend our money and energy on solutions that really make us safe.”

Of course, I’ve had 27 years to formulate that reply. As I said, we print journalists aren’t that fast on our feet (which may explain why we rarely run for president). Would an improv class help us? I’ll leave that question to Judy.

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