So we’ve had a number of emails from TPM Readers asking about the post below on John Kerry and second chances. “But in modern presidential politics (say, going back a hundred years almost) you don’t get a second chance and probably shouldn’t,” I wrote.
A number of you have pointed out that Richard Nixon lost the general election in 1960 and won it in 1968. Adlai Stevenson lost consecutively in 1952 and 1956, both times against President Eisenhower. And others note that many presidential aspirants have run and lost and run again and sometimes even won. Take Ronald Reagan for instance. And then finally there’s the implicit question of Al Gore. Can he run again? In 2008 or after? Or is it over for him too?
So let me try to clarify my point and take up these issues in order.
Part of the unclarity was in where I placed the ‘almost’ — in a place that qualified the length of years rather than the fixity of the rule. But I like to dig into the deeper issue because I think it’s an interesting one.
One of the dimensions of US national politics that has always stood out for me is the light-switch turnabout before and after a presidential election for perceptions of the losing nominee. Nominees almost always turn out to be outsiders to some degree. They aren’t leaders of the party going in. They take control of it, at least temporarily, by navigating the primary process. And then there’s a collective process each party goes through of psyching itself out, whiping itself up into a stitch of enthusiasm over the marvelousness of the nominee. And then when he loses, if he does, then he’s tossed out like yesterday’s garbage. Because, heck, we barely knew the guy anyway.
The contempt and derision for losing candidates among members of their own party in American politics is, I think, tied to this shot-gun marriage that takes place between the end of the primary process and the convention — a fast-food, made-to-order personality cult that doesn’t last a day after defeat.
My first real experience of this was with Mike Dukakis and the 1988 election. I have a pretty clear recollection of 1980 and 1984. But Mondale was the heir-apparent insider. So the same terms didn’t really apply.
There’s nothing in American politics like Neil Kinnock who led the UK Labour party to three successive defeats. Because, they’re not party leaders. They’re only vehicles for political success and acquisition of the White House. So once they lose, the loss defines them.
So what about the various examples.
The big stand out is Adlai Stevenson. But that was just over half a century ago and is I think the exception that proves the rule. Why exactly did the Dems renominate Adlai in 1956? And remember, he still thought he might get another bite at the apple in 1960. But that’s a question for another post.
Richard Nixon is the more intriguing counter-example. The key thing about Nixon, though, in my mind is that he didn’t run and win in 1964 but in 1968. The Americas of 1960 and 1968 were worlds apart. So he was, at least in a certain sort of self-presentation, a reborn political figure in a very different era, even if it was only eight years later. More important, though, is that he gave up the pole position as it were. He gave up some of the inside-track advantage that, for instance, the vice president is usually seen to have.
In this sense Gore could be similar. In various ways, he’s given up a lot of the trappings of insiderdom. He’s taken positions that have taken him at least somewhat outside the mainstream — ones where subsequent history has vindicated him, particularly on Iraq. And he’s let go or turned over to others a lot of the fundraising networks and political patronage ties that equate to modern-day political power. So, if he ran again, in a sense I think he’d be running fresh. It wouldn’t be on the coattails of a failed first try.
Of course, to many of us, Gore is unique. Because we don’t think he really lost in 2000. The whole Bush presidency was conceived in the original political sin of the stolen 2000 election. And hasn’t it turned out well? But that’s another story.
So, yes, there have been a couple of exceptions. And significant ones. But they’re not recent. And the whole tenor and structure of our national politics militates against the pattern. There are plenty of chances for trial runs — Gore, Reagan, Scoop Jackson and now McCain potentially being an example. But once one of the great national parties lets you suit up as its nominee for the big contest and you whiff it, pretty much always that’s it for you.
Or put it another way. Tell me the last losing major party nominee who members of that party didn’t after the election decide was a rotten candidate.
Late Update: TPM Reader SM points out another — almost overlapping — example of a succesive nominee — Thomas Dewey in 1944 and 1948. Stevenson has always stood out to me in this regard. But, I confees, I’ve totally ignored the Dewey example. SM thinks this invalidates my overall take on the matter. But I respectfully disagree. More intriguingly, in response to my question above about losing nominees always being judged rotten candidates in retrospect, TPM Reader JR answers Hubert Humphrey. And, you know, that’s a pretty good answer. A lot of people hated Humphrey for that race and many thought him a tragic figure — in both cases because of his inability, until very late in the election, to sever the cord connecting him to the Vietnam War. But I’m not sure that people thought he was a bad candidate per se.
Later Update: Thinking this over, I’m intrigued by the fact that the two examples of successive nominations come in four successive elections — 1944 (Dewey), 1948 (Dewey), 1952 (Stevenson) and 1956 (Stevenson). One of the problems for all theories about the presidency — veep never succeeds a sitting president, etc. — is that the sample set just isn’t very big. So it’s hard to differentiate meaningful patterns from random chance. Still, it’s at least notable that this has only happened twice in the last century (unless somone else is going to pull another example out of their hat that I haven’t thought of) and both times in one twelve year period. My first thought is that both may be aftershocks or echoes of FDR’s unprecedented and (unless the 22nd is stricken from the constitution) unique four-term presidency. I confess I don’t know that much of the internal dynamics of the 1944 GOP nomination process. But Dewey did pretty well in 1944 (in the popular if not the electoral vote). So perhaps GOP party regulars figured they’d had a damn good candidate on their hands but that beating FDR as he neared victory in WWII was just too tall an order for any candidate. Thus, another try. Paradoxically, a related reasoning could have buoyed Stevenson in 1956. In 1952 the Democrats had held the White House for an astonishing 20 years. But in four successive elections they’d defended it with incumbent nominees. Perhaps Democrats in 1956 reasoned that Stevenson wasn’t a bad candidate — only that hunger for a change of party control in the White House was just too strong for even a good candidate to overcome after five Democratic terms. Of course, this is just speculation. But I’d be curious to hear from those with more detailed knowledge of the 1948 Republican and 1956 Democratic conventions whether the reasoning I’ve described played any role.
