Nefarious Plots
Nefarious Plots
As
Slate
's
"Pundit
Central" points out, the consensus view of the commentariat is that
President Clinton is to be blamed for selling burial rights at Arlington
Cemetery to campaign contributors--even though it turns out he never did
it--because it's just the sort of thing he might have done. Or not quite:
There's a perception , well founded or otherwise, that this is the sort
of thing he might do.
Here is an important new
development in the Washington press corps' perceptions game. Often in the past,
when chasing some alleged miscreant, the press has brushed aside the question
of what exactly is wrong with the explanation that the situation creates the
perception of impropriety. We thereby avoid the tiresome issue of whether
anything improper actually has occurred. (The trick works both ways: Actual
miscreants confess to having created an appearance of impropriety, thus
sidestepping the little matter of impropriety itself.) Since the press itself
largely creates the perception with its coverage, justifying the coverage on
the basis of the perception is a convenient form of circular reasoning.
Never before, though (to our
knowledge), has a public figure been found guilty of committing a perception
when the perception is demonstrably untrue. Until now there had to be at least
a possibility that the perception of impropriety might some day molt into hard
evidence of actual impropriety. In this case, that possibility doesn't exist.
Undoubtedly there are folks who will continue to insist, against all evidence,
that Clinton sold entry to Arlington. But those who take the
isn't-this-just-typical line are doing so precisely because, although they
think it's typical, they accept that it isn't true. Apparently that doesn't
matter anymore--as long as it's typical, or arguably typical. So boo to
Clinton, no need to apologize, and no need to worry about being the conduit for
any faintly plausible bit of poison his critics may be dispensing.
Like all journalists, we at
Slate
have longed for the day when "might be true" is accepted as
the standard for our trade. Never in our most idealistic moments did we dare
hope for a standard of "might be true--even though it isn't." Like a starving
man standing before the bounty of ... oh, say, the Microsoft cafeteria (check
out the vegetable stir-fry), we hardly know where to begin (don't miss those
Rice Krispies squares!).
Maybe Clinton sold the
national monuments! (Q: Who is buried in Grant's Tomb? A: If you have to ask,
you can't afford it.) Could be true. After all, it would be typical of someone
who sold Arlington Cemetery plots, which, though he may not have done it, is
nevertheless typical of the kind of guy who'd kill Vincent Foster, which he
didn't do either--but that doesn't matter because he's the kind of guy who does
the kind of thing that gets you accused of doing that kind of thing.
Maybe Newt Gingrich actually
poisoned his first wife. After all, he divorced her on her deathbed--or
something like that. We don't remember the details, exactly, but they certainly
created the perception that he did something like that, and anyone who could be
perceived to do something like that has created an atmosphere that makes
possible the perception that he could do something worse. So he has no one to
blame but himself.
Hey, this
is going to be fun.
Turkey of
All Time
Last week Time
magazine reported some preliminary results from a poll it has been conducting
on its Internet site about
whom it should pick for its "Person of the Century." An impressive 5 million
votes have been cast since the poll went up in June. But bizarrely, 1.7 million
of those votes were for Kemal Atatürk. Atatürk was the founder of modern
Turkey, which is no mean accomplishment (what have you done with your life?),
but the Time folks understandably suspect ballot-stuffing.
Time 's mistake, we
think, was its stinting view of history. If you're going in for shameless
promotional gimmicks, why limit yourself to a century?
Slate
hereby announces its intention to mark the year 2000 by anointing a "Person of
the Millennium." Kemal Atatürk need not apply. In fact, although all other
nominees are welcome,
Slate
's software-development team--through
a simple iterative program--has already cast 1.8 million votes for Bill Gates.
(Could there be any other real answer?) Madonna was a distant second.
Speaking of Turkey, in honor
of Thanksgiving
Slate
has published a full week's issue as of
today (Wednesday, Nov. 26), two days early. Our "Today's Papers" column will be
posted Friday (but not Thanksgiving Day). Our normal schedule will resume on
Monday, Dec. 1.
--Michael Kinsley
