40 years have seen openness, civility fade as cynicism gains

Four decades is a long span, regardless of how geologists count. And I was jolted Monday when reminded that it has been 40 years since Ronald Reagan was elected governor.

The realization hit home as I watched a commemoration of Reagan’s landmark victory at his presidential library in Simi Valley. I watched it, that is, sitting at my computer in Sacramento after clicking on a webcast.

Political reporters never envisioned a Web 40 years ago, nor laptops, cells and BlackBerrys. Our tools for covering a politician on the stump were a bulky tape recorder, a portable typewriter, some carbon paper and coins for a payphone.

That’s only a small piece of the story about how politics has changed between the eras of Reagan and Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Schwarzenegger was the featured speaker at the commemoration, and his office supplied the webcast. That’s how the governor offers reporters access to his campaign events these days; otherwise, they’re on their own.

When Reagan was running for governor, both he and his opponent, Gov. Pat Brown, flew reporters around with them on their campaign planes. News organizations were billed for the reporters’ share of costs -- same as the White House operates.

Reagan’s aircraft was especially colorful: a bucking, WW II-vintage, twin-engine DC-3 lent by a San Joaquin Valley turkey farmer who used it for hauling his birds. Reporters dubbed it “The Turkey Bird.” Whenever it landed, the passengers -- including Reagan, sitting in the front row -- would make “gobble, gobble” noises.

Reporters got to know and appreciate the candidate, and he learned something about us.

Biographer Lou Cannon says Reagan told him several times, “ ‘The reporters learned that I don’t have horns and eat my young.’

“Nancy told him never to use that phrase, but.... “

Political consultant Stu Spencer, who co-managed Reagan’s 1966 race, says the candidate was made easily accessible to reporters because “we were scared to death that in the transformation from actor to politician, he would just get crucified as a guy who did everything from a script. We wanted all you people to realize he had some brains, had some ideas.”

Most afternoons, Reagan would hold a sit-down news conference. Some got testy. Cannon recalls the candidate telling a Times writer: “Well, if I can go over and sit down under that tree for awhile, I can figure it out.”

Reporters came to like the guy -- at all stages of his career. And I believe that was reflected in their coverage of him, whether they agreed with his ideas or not.

Schwarzenegger? Some sort of like him. Some don’t. Hardly any Capitol reporter gets close enough to really know. He’s easiest to like when he drops the Hollywood act and shows his thoughtful side -- the side I saw before he became a politician.

The statesman side resurfaced this year. But without real accessibility, it’s hard to tell how much is sincere and how much is from some director’s script.

This governor flies aboard a leased Gulfstream jet with only his handlers, paid for by special-interest donors. There aren’t any pesky reporters around to press him, for example, about his plans for a second term.

He rarely holds news conferences that aren’t staged photo-ops. But it’s not just him; it’s too many politicians these days, including recalled Gov. Gray Davis. Courage and confidence have given way to caution and cowering.

In one way, it’s understandable because of technology. Sen. John Kerry stumbles on “a botched joke about the president” -- it sounds like he may be insulting troops -- and instantly becomes a target of political opportunists and demagogues.

In the pre-blog era, the slower communication system was much more forgiving.

And politics was more civil.

“In 1966, people were still talking to each other,” Cannon says. “In 2006, we’re talking to ourselves. Conservatives and lefties have their own Web logs that read like ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’ ”

They can attack with a blog or e-mail and never look their target in the eye. The communication keeps getting coarser.

So-called dirt is easier to dig up because of the Internet. Negative ads are nastier.

Schwarzenegger touched on the incivility with self-deprecating humor at the Reagan library:

“Ronald Reagan could throw a political punch ... but he did it with courtesy ... with humor....

“In the heat of political battle, you say things that you wish you hadn’t said. And you girlie men out there know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The 800 guests laughed and applauded at Schwarzenegger’s reference to his old, widely panned bully act.

Technology has made candidates less interesting. They’re not speaking from their souls as much as mimicking voters who sound off in focus groups or respond to polls. The politicians’ manicured messages lack spontaneity and a sense of sincerity.

If Reagan had studied polls, which back then were slower and less sophisticated, he would have missed one of the most potent issues of 1966: the voters’ escalating anger at student protests, especially at UC Berkeley. That wasn’t picked up by surveys. Reagan found it himself by listening to audiences’ questions. Soon, he was denouncing the “mess at Berkeley” and running ahead of Brown.

Gubernatorial campaign fundraising often was exciting, with big-name entertainers like Frank Sinatra donating their talents. Reporters covered the events.

Today, contributors get nothing but bad food and a doubled bill if they want a photo with the governor. Reporters are barred, fortunately.

People aren’t as connected to politics these days because politicians have disconnected themselves.

There has been a gradual souring on politics since the Vietnam War and Watergate. And cynicism-generating technology is making people more bitter.

In 1966, 79% of registered voters cast ballots. Next Tuesday, the candidates will be lucky to draw out 50%.

Politics was more of a fun, community sport 40 years ago. And government generally functioned better.

George Skelton writes Monday and Thursday. Reach him at george.skelton@latimes.com.