Celebrity Gets Arnold Only So Far

There are small pockets in the United States, most notably on the Left and Right Coasts, where folks really think Martin Sheen is the president and George Bush the pretender. For millions of Americans, what happens every Wednesday night on NBC’s “The West Wing” is more important than events in the actual White House.

Americans share an almost mythic fascination with everything entertainment and a disgust with everything political. Hollywood celebrities make 10 to 100 times more a year than Congress members for doing a lot less, and your average voting-age American is more apt to know the stars of any two summer blockbusters than his representatives in Congress.

These days, the intersection between entertainment and politics is a congested one. Some say that Washington is full of ugly actors and Hollywood is loaded with pretty politicians.

Yet when seemingly nonpolitical celebrities like, say, Jerry Springer or Jesse Ventura encourage speculation about running for office, the path is not always smooth.

In fact, it is almost compulsory that members of the hard-working but relatively anonymous media will assert the inherent decline of democracy as we know it. Here -- as if exhumed from a high-school time capsule -- are the bespectacled members of the school paper railing about how popular quarterbacks and head cheerleaders so easily win class elections.

But for all the intellectual discomfort it causes our nation’s “opinion elites,” there is no stopping this tide. Just as surely as television news anchors more closely resemble soap opera stars with each passing year, so are the stars of Hollywood more closely resembling politicians. Naturally enough, they are taking full advantage of it.

Although Americans are suckers for those Abraham Lincoln pick-myself-up-by-the-bootstrap stories, there is no denying that a familiar name and a few million in campaign cash provide a tremendous leg up. After all, name recognition is extraordinarily important in winning votes -- and yet 50% of Americans can’t even name their two senators. We did exit polling on election day in 2000 that showed that one out of five voters couldn’t name George Bush’s running mate.

By contrast, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s name recognition in California today is close to 100%. As a consultant to Michael Bloomberg’s campaign for mayor in New York, I know the value of money as well as anyone else. But be clear about this: Even after spending $30 million dollars, Bloomberg was not as well known in New York as Arnold Schwarzenegger is in California today.

Of course, getting elected is not just a matter of how well known you are; over the years, celebrities have had mixed results. Sonny Bono went from half of a popular singing duo to Congress (with a few missteps and two decades in between), yet actor Ralph Waite was unable to descend from Walton’s Mountain in his unsuccessful congressional bid. Mike Curb climbed the Top 40 charts, but he was able to climb no higher than California lieutenant governor. Similarly, “The Love Boat’s” Gopher, Fred Grandy, became an Iowa congressman but failed to win statewide office, and Jesse Ventura won statewide office but ended his term as one of the nation’s most unpopular governors. And lest we forget, there was that most successful entertainer-turned-politician -- that Reagan guy.

A mixed bag, yes. But is it fair to condemn out of hand such entertainment industry crossovers any more than it is to prejudge crossover trial lawyers, pest exterminators, high school teachers or, as in both presidential nominees in 2000 -- sons of famous politicians -- just because of where they come from?

Celebrity, like personal wealth, gets you to the starting gate, but it is surely no guarantee of success. If it were, you’d be writing letters to California senators Al Checchi and Michael Huffington rather than Barbara Boxer and Dianne Feinstein.

Come election day, if the ability is there, it doesn’t matter whether the candidate’s fame derives from being a “star,” a business mogul, a successful war hero or even a political scion.

So what should would-be, could-be governor Arnold Schwarzenegger learn from all this if he wants to jump from the silver screen to the governor’s mansion? As a pollster, I would tell him that it’s imperative to tell the voters not what he thinks but who he really is. That is, rather than act the part of a politician with all the political language, postures and plans, he needs to tell Californians how his celebrity life and business success have made him especially suited to lead the state.

In today’s political environment, it is a clear advantage to be an outsider, but that is not enough. He needs to make clear why Arnold the actor, the producer, the businessman, the humanitarian, the husband of Maria Shriver, the body builder and the wide-eyed Austrian immigrant who landed at an American airport in 1968 is the guy to do the job.

Sure, Californians will ask where he stands on “the issues” and will want to know that he is capable of communicating with his colleagues. (Despite recent history, a governor should be able to at least interact with state legislators.) But for each opinion he holds and for each principle he chooses to express, he must take pains to show its organic roots in his lifelong experience.

Even if he were today’s Laurence Olivier, Schwarzenegger couldn’t act the part of governor. Either it’s in him or it isn’t. His glittering Hollywood history has given him access to the bully pulpit of fame. He should be allowed to give his two cents and, more important, show us where he got them from.