Voters Play Key Role in the Game

When Ross let them down, they cried, they swore, they even trashed a campaign office.

For some, the emotions were so strong that they blocked them, refusing to let the bad news ruin their day. They said they would still vote for their man, that they would force him back into the race.

The shrinks call this “denial”--the dream is dead but the believers still haven’t opened their eyes.

And I say it’s another facet of what’s wrong with politics today. Politics should be about governing, about getting a job done, competently, maybe brilliantly, and blah, blah, blah. But this is pretty dull.

So instead politics has become a big-time game of emotional manipulation, and the voters are supposed to be the pawns.

When the game works according to plan, the candidate wins with a big show of national unity and hip-hip-hoorays. Patriotism and democracy and The American Way blend into a flag-waving emotion that translates as “uplifting,” more or less.

I’m having a hard time remembering the last time I experienced feeling anything akin to this after casting my vote.

When the game doesn’t work as it should, most of the voters stay home and the lowest common denominator candidate wins. This is becoming old hat.

No wonder people are talking about abolishing the political conventions. It’s annoying watching those people whoop it up while the rest of us are supposed to settle for something suspiciously like “trickle down.”

But wait. This year, in stepped Ross Perot, someone who seemed just like anybody else, if that somebody had, say, a billion bucks. True, his message was vague, but darn, it sounded good!

So many people, including the usual stay-at-home crowd, got emotionally caught up. After years of searching for Mr. Right, they thought they’d found him. And then he broke their hearts.

Mr. Right, after all, did not get entangled in the same emotional whirl. He played it cool and businesslike, albeit with a cowpoke’s charm. Finally, he looked at the flow charts and decided he couldn’t win.

“I just rationally looked at the facts,” the man said. “You don’t make good decisions with emotions. You make good decisions just looking at the facts.”

Uh, right. This is what his supporters said they liked about Ross the Boss: common sense, a businessman’s way of getting from A to B. If something doesn’t work, you try something else. None of this political waffling in an attempt to please this group or that.

So why does it hurt so much? Why do Perot supporters feel like they’ve been left at the altar with all their friends and relatives looking on? Why do they feel so disillusioned now?

Because an illusion, by its very nature, is false. Ross Perot, the unpolitician, was playing a political game.

Infatuation is not love, but who listens to their mothers about that? We don’t believe it until we’ve been hurt.

And, besides, Americans love illusions. Who cares if it’s manipulation if it feels good? The world according to Disney, Camelot in the White House, a billionaire populist, it all tends to blur. Somehow it all seems possible when you’re hoping for the best.

So the charitable assessment is that maybe Perot thought he was just too homely, too short to become President, that maybe his show-me-that-you-really-love-me campaign was a search for self-esteem.

The uncharitable assessment is that the man is a cad.

Yes, everybody knows that politicians love to tell people what they want to hear, show them what they want to see. People feel good, maybe they’ll vote for the candidate that sweetened their mood.

Real politicians, the ones who don’t cut their losses and run at the drop of a poll, revel in the game. They hire experts in an attempt to ensure that they touch the right emotional chords. The game goes something like this:

Democratic Consultant No. 1: “What do you say we wrap up the convention with a heart-stopping rendition of ‘It’s a Grand Old Flag?’ ”

Consultant No. 2: “What are you crazy? Way too Republican. Our guys are supposed to be for change and, you know, the middle class. Wait a minute. . . . How about, how about. . . . Yes! A 15-year-old song by Fleetwood Mac.”

Consultant No. 1: “Hm. Not bad. But first let me run the lyrics by Tipper Gore.”

OK, yes, I dislike politicians for the emotional manipulation, the pandering, the razzmatazz for which they have come to stand. But in light of the Perot poop-out, I am beginning to respect them for it just a little more.

You start pulling at heartstrings, getting people all riled up, you stay in the game. It’s a question of honor, a question of watching the movie until the end. This is not business, it’s politics.

No wonder our system is in such a mess.