Trump voters aren't looking for complete consistency from the
man, but they are looking for a generally consistent
attitude -- of toughness. And besides, in the view of Trump fans,
isn't calling Trump crazy for staking out these positions the same
as calling his supporters crazy? It reeks of condescension. (Maybe
under a Clinton administration, Obamacare 2.0 -- or Clintoncare or
whatever you wanna call it -- will mandate Rorschach tests for
everybody?)
The Clinton campaign has also recently been doubling down on
airing a TV ad called "Role
Models," which it introduced in July. You've surely seen it by
now; it's the one that shows little kids watching TV (no parents in
sight) quietly witnessing Donald Trump saying mean, sexist,
demeaning things, followed by a typographic message on the screen:
"Our children are watching. What example will we set for them?"
Wait, when their parents aren't around, children change the
channel to CNN or Fox News? Who knew?!
Even if you accept the premise that Our Innocent Children are
learning how to be Big Meanies by watching Donald Trump on TV, it's
no secret to grown-ups everywhere that politics was a
rough-and-tumble business long before Trump decided to join the
fray; it's always been an arena for adults, not kids. Trump just
made things, you know, rougher-and-tumble-ier. Because that's what
he does. His trademark bluntness and outspokenness and insult-comic
rudeness are, to his fans, good qualities.
What the Clinton campaign seems to forget is that Donald Trump
announced his candidacy a long time ago (June 16, 2015) and he's
said hundreds of outrageous things since then, and we're all used
to it by now. We're inoculated to it. Spending money to try to
crank up the outrage machine over Outrageous Donald is probably not
going to move the needle at this point. And, again, there's a
condescension factor at play (are you saying I'm a bad parent if I
support Donald Trump?!).
Contrast Clinton's arty psychoanalysis video and her
suffer-the-little-children ad with one of the TV commercials Trump
has been running recently. More polished than previous Trump TV
commercials from the primary season, "Two Americas: Immigration," as the ad is
titled, contrasts "Hillary Clinton's America" (underscored by
somber music and scary scenes of refugees and immigrants) and
"Donald Trump's America" (underscored by upbeat music and scenes of
happy families). "In Hillary Clinton's America," the voice-over
says, "the system stays rigged against Americans. Syrian refugees
flood in. Illegal immigrants convicted of committing crimes get to
stay, collecting Social Security benefits, skipping the line...."
In contrast, "Donald Trump's America is secure. Terrorists and
dangerous criminals kept out. The border secure. Our families
safe...."
It's a simple, traditional spot. It's political ad
paint-by-numbers to the point that it was quickly followed by
another one just like it, again contrasting Hillary Clinton's
America and Donald Trump's America, but this time regarding the economy. "In
Hillary Clinton's America, the middle class gets crushed, spending
goes up, taxes go up, hundreds of thousands of jobs disappear. It's
more of the same, but worse," the announcer says. "In Donald
Trump's America, working families get tax relief, millions of new
jobs created, wages go up, small businesses thrive. The American
dream, achievable. Change that makes America great again."
It's so simple, isn't it? Wonks, and the Clinton campaign, can
make fun all they want of Donald Trump's detail-free messaging, but
this is still a campaign, not an administration, and message
discipline in campaigns is about simplicity. Dead-simple,
repetitive simplicity.
It turns out that a little old-fashioned message discipline
might go a long way for Trump. Clinton's message discipline,
meanwhile, has lately seemed to be, basically, Trump equals the
apocalypse. And I'm your only hope. And Sorry
(kinda) about that private email server.
Back in July, I went to Cleveland to cover the Republican
National Convention and then Philadelphia to cover the Democratic
National Convention. One memory that stands out from those trips is
a conversation I had on a shuttle bus with a local Philly Democrat
and Hillary fan. "Why do we keep making all these unforced
errors?!" she said to me, exasperated. "We should be miles ahead of
Trump!" The unforced error of that particular moment was the leak
of Democratic National Committee emails that showed the
organization's bias against Bernie Sanders and led to the
resignation of DNC Chair Debbie Wasserman Schultz on the eve of the
convention.
Trump's unforced errors -- like when he says something just a
bit too asshole-ish -- have a way of reinforcing his brand values
in the eyes of his supporters. (He's a straight shooter! He's
unfiltered! Donald's just being Donald!) Clinton's unforced errors,
on the other hand, have a way of undermining her brand values in
the eyes of her supporters -- while reinforcing, for everyone else,
Trump's assessment of her as corrupt.
When more of the drip, drip, drip of news about Clinton's use of
a private email server at the State Department came out last week
-- the fact that over four years Clinton used 13 different mobile
phones -- even Stephen Colbert, late-night TV's most persistent
(and hilarious) Trump takedown artist, had a few words for the
former secretary of state: "Thirteen cellphones! Madam Secretary,
tell the truth: Are you a crack dealer? 'Cause I can't figure out
why else you would need 13 phones."
Lordy, Lordy, Lordy. The optics here are just inescapable.