One of the most insightful explanations for Senator Clinton’s victory in New Hampshire came from Benedict Carey in the Sunday, January 13, 2008 New York Times. Unfortunately, he doesn’t give his argument enough credit.
Carey writes, “The right short narrative can alter behavior on a dime.” He argues Clinton’s cry helped create a compelling “mininarrative” in which Clinton – until then the juggernaut marching inevitably toward the nomination – was the victim of two bullies (Senators Obama and Edwards) who ganged up her during a debate.
But Carey also writes that such “quickie morality plays” have little impact during elections that offer “clear choices, or sharp and meaningful differences on policy.” This is where Casey goes astray. Most of us, most of the time, mostly don’t vote for data. We vote for stories.
In the December 3, 2004 Chronicle of Higher Education, Dan P. McAdams, a professor at Northwestern University and author of The Redemptive Self: Stories Americans Live By, argued that one reason President Bush was re-elected was because he told a redemption story. These stories have two elements: clear-eyed focus on a morally unambiguous goal and overcoming hardship on the way to achieving that goal. Of the latter he writes, “especially caring and productive American adults often tell stories about their lives in which emotionally negative events lead directly to reward.” Voters tell redemptive stories about themselves and look for them in their candidates. Clinton’s welling eyes demonstrated negative emotional impact – victory was next.
Clinton told her supporters they had helped her find her voice. Unlike Senator Edwards she has never apologized for behavior, and unlike Obama she expresses her values through pragmatism. (It’s as if Nietzsche were hosting “American Top-40” – a little “let us not be cowardly in the face of our actions, let us not afterwards leave them in the lurch, remorse of conscience is indecent” and a little “keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.”) Redemption means struggle, loss, perseverance, strength and victory. Until Edwards and Obama forged an alliance against Clinton, she had no redemption narrative. She had no setback, nothing to overcome. It was all demption and no re.
Where does this leave the issues? Where they have always been: on the sidelines. Issues, like puppies and microphones (as well as tanks and over-enthusiastic exhortations) are metaphors. They stand in for overcoming adversity, integrity, and judgment (or its absence). Democrats who express opposition to gun control tell voters they are strong. Republicans who support health care reform tell voters they are compassionate. The position matters, but less than what the position says about the person who holds it.
This spring we will nominate candidates who best stand in for those American stories we hold most dear. And in November we will all talk about health care, the economy and Iraq – and we will vote for the candidate who uses those issues and and his or her own experiences to tell the best story of vision, challenges, strength, and victory.
