In the Veepstakes, First Things First

As the conventions draw closer, the media’s “veep watch” is heating up. Pundits are suggesting at least a dozen names as ideal running mates for each of the presidential nominees. The odds change from week to week, as the supposed experts try to decide whether it’s more important to pick someone who can deliver a single crucial state or be the means by which the presidential nominee “reaches out” to one group or another--moderates, conservatives, pro-choicers, pro-lifers.

“Balance” of one kind or another is considered highly desirable, and history certainly offers its share of examples. John F. Kennedy gave himself geographical equilibrium by picking the Texan Lyndon B. Johnson (“Boston-Austin” went the rhyme). Jimmy Carter, running as a Washington “outsider,” still didn’t want to look too inexperienced for the job, so he decided to run with Washington “insider” Walter Mondale. And George Bush achieved a certain generational balance when he picked me to run with him in 1988 (he was 64; I was 41).

Back in 1952, the Eisenhower-Nixon ticket achieved a sort of temperamental balance: The general could be the elder statesman, while his VP acted as political scrapper. Sixteen years later, Richard M. Nixon himself, at the top of the ticket this time, picked the unknown but aggressive Spiro T. Agnew to do the job he’d once done for Ike. And in ‘92, fresh from the Gennifer Flowers scandal, Bill Clinton was surely mindful of Al Gore’s image as a family man when he selected him for the No. 2 spot--a much more important matter than the lack of geographic balance in an Arkansas-Tennessee ticket.

What the pundits too often ignore is that people vote for president--not for the second half of the ticket. In the end, no vice-presidential candidate is likely to help--or hurt--very much. Sen. Thomas Eagleton’s mental health history and Rep. Geraldine Ferraro’s finances were looked upon as tremendous liabilities when media firestorms broke out around these matters in 1972 and 1984. But neither George McGovern nor Mondale, the top of the ticket in each of those years, was headed for the White House in any case.

Ideological balance--or “reaching out”--may be the most overrated motive for putting together a ticket. Loyalty and the committed pursuit of a common agenda are much more to be prized. Franklin D. Roosevelt (himself a losing VP candidate in 1920) went through three vice presidents during his long time in the White House. By the end of his second term, he and the first of them, the much more conservative John Nance Garner, were barely speaking--a bad situation with a war approaching.

More legislators and governors want the job than will admit it. But they need to consider whether the post will really suit them. A number of vice presidents haven’t been so comfortable in the job. Johnson and Hubert H. Humphrey, both powerhouse senators who had tried and failed to get their party’s presidential nominations, had periods of real frustration, subordinating themselves to the presidents they served. On the other hand, George Bush, after a distinguished career in appointive posts (ambassador to China, director of the Central Intelligence Agency), knew how to be the instrument of presidential policy, and he made a superb No. 2 to Ronald Reagan, even though Reagan had bested him in the 1980 primaries.

Most of what the pundits say over the next several weeks will be pure speculation. The selection rests with a single person--the presidential nominee--and he can play his cards as close to his vest as he chooses. You can count on one thing, though: He’ll steer clear of anyone who appears to be campaigning for the slot. “Front-runners” usually lose the veepstakes; the winner is likely to be someone who keeps his head down until the very end of the process.

In the end, the choice needs to be dominated by one single factor--more important than any sort of balance, even more important than loyalty and common agenda. In looking at the various people he might run with, the presidential nominee needs to ask, first and last: Is he or she qualified to be president? Could this person immediately handle the kinds of crises that Harry S. Truman was called upon to deal with when he had to assume Roosevelt’s job in 1945?

If the top of the winning ticket makes that the real test for his running mate, then, six months before taking office, he’ll have performed his first important service as the next president of the United States.