Wanted: a universally-popular vice-presidential candidate

Romney’s vice-presidential pick is the crucial next decision of White House race.

With polls indicating this year’s race for the White House will be highly competitive, the key decision Mitt Romney has to make before the Republican presidential convention in August is his choice of running mate. Wide-ranging candidates are being touted in the media, including US Senators Marco Rubio and Rob Portman, Governors Mitch Daniels and Tim Pawlenty, and even Hewlett Packard CEO Meg Whitman.

The vice-presidential selection process is an election year custom that attracts high prominence, partly because of several key changes in US politics in recent decades. Firstly, the vice-presidency has become the single best transitional office to the presidency. Secondly, the office of vice-president has assumed more power and resourcing. And thirdly, the electoral stakes have grown of not selecting a deputy who is perceived to be capable of assuming office effectively upon the incumbent’s unanticipated death or incapacity.

This latter factor was a major feature of the 2008 presidential election when Republican nominee John McCain, aged 71, made the high-risk decision to select Sarah Palin – whose only major experience of office was less than two years as Governor of Alaska. Rather than boosting McCain’s campaign, Palin was – ultimately – widely viewed as too inexperienced to be president. This was also true in 1988 of Dan Quayle, then a two-term US senator, who was selected by George H.W. Bush.

In light of the Palin episode in 2008, Romney will be keen to make a choice that will "do no harm" to his electoral prospects. Hence, part of the reason why Portman and Daniels, with their wide-ranging political experience, have received so much attention from media.

Historically, the process of selecting vice-presidential nominees tended to be fashioned around issues like reconciling important party stakeholders after what can be bruising nomination contests; and the perceived advantage of cultivating so-called ‘balanced tickets’ in which the vice-presidential and presidential candidates where differentiated by factors such as their ‘home’ region of the country, or philosophical wings of the party, so as to maximise support across the nation.

One potential balanced ticket candidate for Romney is Rubio, whose life story – he was born in Florida to Cuban immigrants – potentially contrasts favourably with perceptions of Romney’s wealth and privilege. Rubio is also a Tea Party favourite, potentially neutralising conservative concerns about Romney’s more moderate Republicanism. The selection of Rubio, while containing the potential hazard of his relative national political inexperience (he only entered the US Senate in 2011), would also increase the prospects of Romney winning the key swing state of Florida.   

Romney’s wife, Anne, also enthusiastically highlighted earlier this month that Romney might choose a woman. As well as Whitman (who stood as the Republican candidate in the 2010 Californian gubernatorial election), potential female candidates touted in the media include three who, like Rubio, are serving only their first term of office in their present post: US Senator Kelly Ayotte (who represents the swing state of New Hampshire); South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley (an American-Indian whose parents emigrated from Amritsar); and New Mexico Governor Susana Martinez (who could potentially appeal to the rapidly growing US Hispanic population). 

However, partly because of the changes in the presidential nomination system, and indeed the proliferation of mass media, these traditional considerations (while still of enduring consequence) are less relevant to the modern process. Thus, Al Gore was selected in 1992 by Bill Clinton (a fellow centrist Democrat and southerner) not to balance the ticket, but instead to reinforce a key narrative about Clinton’s "New Democrat", change candidacy.

Whether or not these developments have potentially injected greater uncertainty into the vice-presidential selection process, it is unquestionably the case that choices are routinely made that confound the pundits. For instance, few (if any) anticipated the selections in 2008 of Palin and Joe Biden, nor in 2000 of Dick Cheney and Joe Lieberman.

The selections of Washington veterans Cheney and Biden (who looks likely to Obama’s running mate again this year) were noteworthy inasmuch as they were chosen, in significant part, to fortify the national and international political inexperience of George W. Bush and Barack Obama. Cheney, in particular, therefore assumed a high profile role as vice-president, and is widely viewed as the most powerful ever holder of the office.

Cheney’s influence partly derived from his experience and connections as a former White House chief of staff; congressman and defence secretary, and the innovations he brought to the office of the vice presidency – for instance, he considerably increased his national security staff. However, his influence also reflected the increased status of the vice presidency in recent decades which, as well as being reflected in larger staff budgets, also includes greater proximity to the centre of power through a West Wing office in the White House; weekly one-on-one meetings with the president; and authority to attend all presidential meetings.

The selections of Cheney and Biden were also interesting in another sense: both George W. Bush and Obama made the assumption that neither of their more experienced running mates represented a political threat to them, and would thus be very loyal, because they were too old (and in Cheney’s case suffered from too poor health) to run for the presidency themselves in the future. Seen from the prism of the last few decades, this is highly unusual.

Indeed, since 1960, four sitting vice-presidents (Richard Nixon in 1960, Hubert Humphrey in 1968; Walter Mondale in 1984; and Gore in 2000) won their respective party’s presidential nomination but then lost the general election, whilst two vice-presidents have been elected president (Nixon in 1968 and George H.W. Bush in 1988). One reason vice-presidents have, in the post-war period, enjoyed particular success in securing their party’s presidential nomination relates to the Twenty Second Amendment in 1951.

This constitutional amendment restricted presidents from serving more than two terms. Importantly, for vice-presidents, this allowed for the possibility of organising a presidential campaign in the sitting president’s second term of office without charges, from inside or outside his party, of disloyalty.

It is thus in this context of short-term political calculation and historical precedent that Romney will make what could prove his defining decision of the campaign. Miscalculation could prove damaging, especially if the race remains tight. However, if the selection wins strong approval, his candidacy will secure invaluable new momentum.

Andrew Hammond was formerly the North America Editor at Oxford Analytica, and a UK Government Special Adviser.
 

Mitt Romney will be anxious to avoid John McCain's "Palin mistake" of 2008. Photograph: Getty Images

Andrew Hammond is an associate at LSE IDEAS (the Centre for International Affairs, Diplomacy and Strategy) at the London School of Economics.

 

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The Women's March against Trump matters – but only if we keep fighting

We won’t win the battle for progressive ideas if we don’t battle in the first place.

Arron Banks, UKIP-funder, Brexit cheerleader and Gibraltar-based insurance salesman, took time out from Trump's inauguration to tweet me about my role in tomorrow's Women’s March Conservative values are in the ascendancy worldwide. Thankfully your values are finished. . . good”.

Just what about the idea of women and men marching for human rights causes such ill will? The sense it is somehow cheeky to say we will champion equality whoever is in office in America or around the world. After all, if progressives like me have lost the battle of ideas, what difference does it make whether we are marching, holding meetings or just moaning on the internet?

The only anti-democratic perspective is to argue that when someone has lost the argument they have to stop making one. When political parties lose elections they reflect, they listen, they learn but if they stand for something, they don’t disband. The same is true, now, for the broader context. We should not dismiss the necessity to learn, to listen, to reflect on the rise of Trump – or indeed reflect on the rise of the right in the UK  but reject the idea that we have to take a vow of silence if we want to win power again.

To march is not to ignore the challenges progressives face. It is to start to ask what are we prepared to do about it.

Historically, conservatives have had no such qualms about regrouping and remaining steadfast in the confidence they have something worth saying. In contrast, the left has always been good at absolving itself of the need to renew.

We spend our time seeking the perfect candidates, the perfect policy, the perfect campaign, as a precondition for action. It justifies doing nothing except sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the state of society.

We also seem to think that changing the world should be easier than reality suggests. The backlash we are now seeing against progressive policies was inevitable once we appeared to take these gains for granted and became arrogant and exclusive about the inevitability of our worldview. Our values demand the rebalancing of power, whether economic, social or cultural, and that means challenging those who currently have it. We may believe that a more equal world is one in which more will thrive, but that doesn’t mean those with entrenched privilege will give up their favoured status without a fight or that the public should express perpetual gratitude for our efforts via the ballot box either.  

Amongst the conferences, tweets and general rumblings there seem three schools of thought about what to do next. The first is Marxist  as in Groucho revisionism: to rise again we must water down our principles to accommodate where we believe the centre ground of politics to now be. Tone down our ideals in the hope that by such acquiescence we can eventually win back public support for our brand – if not our purpose. The very essence of a hollow victory.

The second is to stick to our guns and stick our heads in the sand, believing that eventually, when World War Three breaks out, the public will come grovelling back to us. To luxuriate in an unwillingness to see we are losing not just elected offices but the fight for our shared future.

But what if there really was a third way? It's not going to be easy, and it requires more than a hashtag or funny t-shirt. It’s about picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves down and starting to renew our call to arms in a way that makes sense for the modern world.

For the avoidance of doubt, if we march tomorrow and then go home satisfied we have made our point then we may as well not have marched at all. But if we march and continue to organise out of the networks we make, well, then that’s worth a Saturday in the cold. After all, we won’t win the battle of ideas, if we don’t battle.

We do have to change the way we work. We do have to have the courage not to live in our echo chambers alone. To go with respect and humility to debate and discuss the future of our communities and of our country.

And we have to come together to show there is a willingness not to ask a few brave souls to do that on their own. Not just at election times, but every day and in every corner of Britain, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Saturday is one part of that process of finding others willing not just to walk a mile with a placard, but to put in the hard yards to win the argument again for progressive values and vision. Maybe no one will show up. Maybe not many will keep going. But whilst there are folk with faith in each other, and in that alternative future, they’ll find a friend in me ready to work with them and will them on  and then Mr Banks really should be worried.