Kerry's nomination is worth waiting for

26 May 2004

As painful as it may be, John Kerry is smart to defer accepting his nomination. In the process, of course, he'll infuriate commuters, businesses and local pols looking for their moments of glory. There's a good chance as well that the delay could deeply wound Boston Mayor Thomas Menino.

Too bad. In politics, winning is everything, especially in this, the most partisan and invective-filled year in memory. Absent Kerry's ploy, George W. Bush has a huge advantage. More fundamentally, conventions have outlived their usefulness. This very well may be the year that marks their demise.

The mess started with the International Olympic Committee, which had the gall to schedule this year's summer games for most of August - right at the high point of the American convention season. (What, they think the rest of the world matters more than we?) The Republicans adapted, moving to the end of the month.

And a good move it was. Once formally nominated, federal election rules limit each candidate to $75 million. If Kerry is nominated as originally planned, he has 14 weeks (from July 30 until Election Day) to spend his money - about $5.4 million a week. Bush, with his nomination scheduled for September, has only nine weeks (or, $8.3 million a week). Before then - and most significantly, in the five weeks between the Democrats' convention and his own - he can spend whatever he wants.

If money really is the driver of electoral success, then the logic for Kerry's trial balloon seems compelling.

The downside? Well, Massachusetts will be mad, but so what? It's not as if the state will vote Republican. True, should Kerry lose the presidency, he will probably be persona non grata at home. If he wins, however, everyone will be so busy courting him for a job that bygones will be bygones.

One exception may well be Menino. The mayor put his considerable reputation on the line with this convention. Two years ago, the risk seemed modest. No longer. The security measures and road closures required by the Secret Service are extensive; businesses and residents are only now beginning to understand their magnitude. If the week turns out to be (in the scathing words of state GOP Chairman Darrell Crate) merely a "pep rally," voters may become unforgiving, seeing in Menino's bid for the convention less an historic first than a pointless exercise in vanity.

But wait. Political conventions are where the major parties select their nominees. The intense media attention gives each party a huge surge upward in the polls. Moreover, they're the place where activists come together to energize themselves for the fight ahead. Doesn't that matter?

Once, perhaps.

Years ago, conventions did the groundwork of democracy. Party elders and loyalists debated policy and battled over candidates. It was important stuff, and the media and public rightfully treated it as such.

But television had a transforming effect. Over time, the parties began to understand conventions as a kind of public relations tool, and so they reworked them to make sure the message they delivered was smooth, consistent and focused. Unsettled matters were decided beforehand. What was once news became an extended advertisement.

TV, slow but not dumb, eventually figured this out. Most networks covered conventions "gavel-to-gavel" through 1976. Since then, they have scaled back. In 2000, only 11 hours were carried live. CBS anchor Dan Rather in January said, "I think it's inevitable that the over-the-airways broadcasters and, for that matter, many in cable either take a pass or reduce their coverage even more than we've seen in recent years."

Conventions are becoming like trees falling in a deserted forest. The legendary bounce in the polls, always ephemeral (Mike Dukakis' 17-point spread in 1988 evaporated by the time the GOP met), has become ever smaller. For all intents and purposes, it's as if the conventions aren't happening.

Add to this two other factors. One is the challenge of terrorism. Given Boston's security nightmares this year, it is hard to imagine any American city actually bidding for the 2008 conventions. And even if some were so foolhardy, one must doubt the wisdom of bringing the nation's political elite together in one place where they represent such an easy target.

Second, conventions now pose a new risk of bad news. As the proceedings have become more like Hollywood productions, the thousands of reporters milling about increasingly have become desperate to find something novel and newsworthy. So what they look for are the gaffes, the protesters and the renegades. This - and not the party's scripted message - is the material that now gets heavy nationwide play.

Add it all up and national conventions have too much risk and offer too little gain. Kerry's trial balloon may eventually pop, but it understands a new reality. Yes, conventions once mattered. Today? We've got better things to do.

Talk back to Tom Keane at tomkeane@tomkeane.com.