Is Brown and Caddell Race a ‘Thelma & Louise’ Spree? : Politics: The country’s mood matches Jerry Brown’s anti-Washington bias. But is this a race to settle old scores, a suicidal shooting rampage?

For months now, starting way before Jerry Brown officially declared his candidacy for President, the conventional wisdom here has been that the conventional wisdom is underestimating Edmund G. Brown Jr. As you know, if you watch the political talk shows, the conventional wisdom is always expressed in the form of an assertion that the conventional wisdom is wrong.

How to explain this belief in the potentialities of a candidate who is as ‘70s as a mood ring, whose two previous forays into presidential politics ended in defeat at the hands of Jimmy Carter and who, they say, is running for President mainly because it’s cheaper than running for senator? The answer is simple: Political insiders have an almost superstitious respect for the national voter-mobilizing power of the “outsider” issue.

The voters (especially Democrats) are angry at the politicians (especially Democrats). The polls show it. The disgusted reaction to the Thomas hearings shows it. The term-limit fad, spreading like kudzu, shows it. Even more than usual, the moment seems ripe for an outsider candidacy. And, even more than usual, everybody is trying to run one.

Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton boasts of his lack of federal experience and his gubernatorial record of unorthodox policy experimentation. Iowa’s Tom Harkin proudly punctuates his rabble-rousing populism with what family newspapers call barnyard epithets. Nebraska’s Bob Kerrey--a kind of cornfed Brown with a chest full of medals--highlights his heartland roots. Massachusetts’ Paul Tsongas and Virginia’s L. Douglas Wilder stress their disdain for the party’s traditional verities. And the hermit of Albany, undeclared and undecided, heaps gentle scorn on the grandees of Washington--Republican and Democratic alike.

“Outsiderism” is hardly a new phenomenon in American politics. Andrew Jackson, who invited the common folk to trample the White House grounds by way of celebrating his inauguration in 1829, was its greatest pre-modern practitioner. But outsiderism flourished as never before in the era of post-Vietnam, post-Watergate disillusionment. In 1976, Carter rode it all the way to the top, only to be out-outsidered four years later by Ronald Reagan.

Brown has been a professional politician virtually all his adult life. Even so, his outsider credentials exceed those of any of his 1992 rivals. He is from the ultimate outsider coast--the West one. He has, at the moment, the ultimate outsider job--he’s unemployed. He has never held federal office. During the past decade, he’s spent more time in Zen monasteries than in committee or board rooms, more time with Mother Teresa than with Speaker Foley.

There’s a similar pattern in the career of Patrick H. Caddell, the Louise to Brown’s Thelma. Though often scorned as a loser and troublemaker, Caddell is actually the most successful Democratic political consultant of his generation. In the last five presidential campaigns, Caddell has helped guide candidates to the nomination three times (George McGovern in 1972, Carter in ‘76, Carter again in ‘80) and twice threw big scares into the party Establishment (with Gary Hart in ’84 and Joseph R. Biden Jr. in ‘88) before his chosen horses went lame. Caddell is unrivaled master of the politics of insurgency and alienation. Like Brown, he has nothing to lose by throwing himself into a what-the-hell guerrilla assault on the empty suits from Washington.

“Adopting Outsider Stance, Brown Joins ’92 Race With Blast at Establishment.” That’s how the Washington Post headlined its story on Brown’s announcement--and he couldn’t have asked for a better summary of his appeal.

What the rest of us need to remember is that “outsiderism” is just what the headline writer called it--a stance. It’s a matter of posture at best, posturing at worst. It’s not a political philosophy, and it’s certainly not a political program. It’s an attitude.

The new outsiderism has a harder edge than the old campaign mythology of log cabins and humble beginnings. It reflects--and exploits--a comprehensive public cynicism that goes far deeper than mere dissatisfaction with the status quo. The new outsiderism does more than target politics-as-usual. It comes close to rejecting politics itself, and this is what makes it potentially dangerous.

Brown’s updated outsiderism owes more to Frank Capra than Andrew Jackson, more to Jimmy Stewart than Jimmy Carter. Kicking off his candidacy, Brown issued a sweeping indictment of both parties for having “allowed themselves to be trapped and, in some cases, corrupted by the powerful forces of greed.”

In this kind of moralistic formulation, which sees the problem as vice, the solution becomes virtue: a lone leader who does not owe anyone anything. But if, as seems more likely, America’s problems are systemic--economic stagnation, social breakdown, political deadlock--a President who has nothing more to offer than personal immunity to greed and other human frailties will avail us little.

Once Mr. Smith--or Mr. Brown--goes to Washington, he will need more than virtue. The outsider will become, willy-nilly, an insider. And unless he can play skillfully in the arena of compromise, constituency politics and legislative deal- making, he will end up worsening the very alienation that brought him to power in the first place.

In Brown’s case, of course, the process is unlikely to go that far. California’s political samurai warrior may well do “better than expected”--just as the conventional wisdom expects. But few expect him to achieve nomination, let alone election. Brown and his sidekick, Caddell, will perform a service if they can succeed in alerting the party and the country to the alarming depth of public despair. But unless they can do more than exploit that despair--unless they can also succeed in moving the discussion toward real solutions--their outsiderist adventure will do little more than touch off yet another downward cycle of hope and disillusion.