Romancing the POTUS

With his usual sesquipedalian flair, George Will today takes us on a tour of history, demonstrating the dangers of falling in love with our presidents and assigning too much importance to their position as cultural and societal icons.

An occupational hazard of the inflated presidency is a hazard to the nation. It is what Healy (borrowing a term from psychiatry) calls Acquired Situational Narcissism. As repositories of absurd expectations, and surrounded by sycophants, presidents become deranged. Inevitably, the inflation of expectations causes what Healy calls an “arc of disillusionment” that diminishes one president after another.

The author, of course, is correct. (Not that the message is likely to sink very far into the national collective conscience.) Presidential elections take on beyond mythic proportions in their importance to proponents on each side. Presidents are prodded to make promises they could never possibly fulfill, not just in terms of legislation and policy or events in foreign lands, but in changing the very landscape of the nation and even ourselves. How can we help but wind up disappointed when they consistently fail to deliver the Nirvana we demand they create for us?

Presidents, in and of themselves, actually have very little power beyond that which the other branches (and the people) assign to them through their “influence” in governmental action. They can create no legislation, though they can suggest that such be written. They can not even stop legislation they oppose if enough of the Congress favors it. Technically the president can not even launch a war – a power reserved for Congress though they have gladly and willingly absconded from that responsibility over the last half century. (Try to think of the last time Congress officially “declared war” on another nation. And no… the so called authorization of military force regarding Iraq does not count.) Presidents can not make treaties, they can’t raise or lower taxes, they can’t spend a single dime of the taxpayers’ money without the say so of the legislature. They can’t determine which laws are or are not constitutional. As we’ve seen in recent years, they really can’t even appoint justices to the courts without some agreement from the Legislative Branch.

The “moral leadership” ascribed to the presidency is no greater than what we’re willing to make it in our own lives. Yes, it would be nice if every president – along with every actor, famous athelete or church leader – led by example and were model citizens. But when they are not, they provide no valid excuse if we exhibit similar failings in our own lives.

I would prefer a president who seems “nice” to me. I should prefer one with whom I would like to share a beer or inspires faith that they would bring my lawnmower back with a full tank of gas if they borrowed it. But if I can’t have that, so be it. We should, perhaps, pick candidates of the best character we can find, but remember that they are not saints and will doubtless disappoint us with their all too human foibles. If we can find one that seems to believe in the largest number of important issues as we do, that’s probably more than enough. Any more than that, and we may be doomed to the fate George Will warns us of – the only truly “good” presidential candidates left are to be found on television.

The last presidential candidate to talk sense about the office was fictional. In an episode of NBC’s “The West Wing,” the Republican candidate, who was not the hero, was asked, “How many jobs will you create?” “None,” he replied, adding: “Entrepreneurs create jobs. Business creates jobs. The president’s job is to get out of the way.”

Perhaps we will need to switch up the American Presidential Elections and American Idol. At least in the latter you’re bound to get a popular winner. (Even if they then wind up with a career entertaining cruise ship patrons.)