Hate to say I told you so, but .... can we please get a grip on debates? Please?
I watched the first five minutes of last night's first presidential debate between President Trump and former Vice President Biden.
That was enough.
I went downstairs, turned on ESPN and watched the final few innings of the baseball playoff game between the New York Yankees and the Cleveland Indians.
Later last night and early this morning, I read coverage and comments that told me I'd hadn't necessarily missed a good learning opportunity. I'd only missed what many have called the worst presidential debate of all time.
That sounds a bit apocalyptic, but it also sounds reasonably true, because it's been heading in this direction for years.
The event and the post-mortems reminded me of a thought I've had for years, and written in various forms. Below is a version from Sept. 27, 2019 — a year ago this week — that was written as a "Takeaway" essay on WHBY Radio's "Fresh Take" program.
It speaks to what happened last night, too. Things need to change.
Here's the "Takeaway" piece:
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I’m a bit of an introvert, so maybe that has something to do with this, but … I really, really, seriously hate what passes for political debates today.
The presidential debates, and to a lesser extent, the statewide gubernatorial and senatorial debates, do not serve voters well at all.
The goal today seems to be to get the best one-liner, or the best wedged-in response to someone else’s answer, or the hottest take to elicit a short-term “boost” or “win” in the polls.
Since Lloyd Bentsen schooled Dan Quayle in 1988 with the “you’re no Jack Kennedy” line, too many pundits and prognosticators point to those kinds of moments as examples of wins.
Except … that’s not the purpose of a political debate. It’s just not.
In the presidential debates we’ve seen this year — featuring two dozen or so Democrats — and in the 2016 cycle, when Republicans had a dozen or more candidates at one point, it’s essentially impossible to learn anything about any particular candidate.
Too many people, too little time, too much lacking in decorum and structure. And lots of talking over each other.
It’s too noisy and too confusing.
We introverts don’t get much out of those situations.
And, let’s be honest, after you watch a debate do you EVER know more coming out of it than you knew going into it? Or were you just entertained by the bickering and back-and-forth?
But … here’s the part that bothers me most — allowing candidates to describe another candidate’s stances or proposals or policies. Mischaracterizing each other’s words or deeds.
I don’t care what Candidate A thinks of Candidate B’s plans. I care what Candidate A’s plans are. And I care what Candidate B’s plans are. That’s it.
They need only think of how their policies and philosophies are received.
In other words, I’d like to forbid candidates from assessing the platforms or philosophies of each other.
And do they really need to be on the same stage at the same moment?
How about we put them each in separate booths, like on an old game show, unable to hear the others answer, and therefore, unable to respond to each other?
Then, they would be asked questions on their own stances. And no more. Speak for themselves, not for others.
I actually used this tactic in a televised debate between Congressional candidates Steve Kagen, who was the Democratic incumbent at the time, and Republican challenger Reid Ribble. I was on a panel asking questions, and when it came to my turn, I specified to each candidate that they speak ONLY to their point of view, and no one else's.
The answers from Ribble and Kagen were clear and concise. Listeners and viewers got a sense of how much the candidates knew about that topic, and how well-prepared they were.
The electorate was served by that particular question and answer.
After the debate, BOTH candidates thanked me for phrasing my questions in a clear, focused way, keeping each other out of the answer. Together, we did good work.
I’m also very sick and very tired of politicians telling me what “the American public” think or care about. Memo to candidates: Don’t pretend you speak for the nation. Let me figure that out for myself.
Just tell me what you believe in, what you support, and what you don’t support … WITHOUT attempting to tell me what your opponents support. Focus on YOU.
Political debates are not — and should not be — reality TV.
They should be helpful to voters who are making important decisions at a ballot booth.
We’re generally pretty smart people, and it’s our job to listen and make educated decisions.
Trust us. Please. Trust us.
There are ways to do this. I wish we’d find them and use them.