Monday, Feb. 07, 1983

Entertainment over Substance

By Hugh Sidey

On the way to his first State of the Union address, John Kennedy assessed the task and asked, "How do you describe the nation in 30 minutes?" He did not come close, despite speaking for 43 minutes. He did prove just how much better his Inaugural Address ("Ask not what your country can do for you . ..") had been ten days earlier. While J.F.K.'s State of the Union appearance was high drama--a new President's always is--the speech itself, like most other State of the Union messages, is only dimly recalled. Indeed, in the 193 years since George Washington first held forth on the State of the Union, the event has been stretched out of shape. It has been overhyped by Presidents, overanticipated by the citizenry and overwhelmed by television.

A lot of that caught up with Ronald Reagan last week. He believes too fervently that a smash appearance onstage can obscure past mistakes and hold the political audience in thrall for a few more precious weeks. The press builds up the State of the Union as a sort of political Super Bowl. Public expectations rise far beyond what a President can provide. Reagan gave the audience a lot of his robust, even youthful, charm, but the substance was familiar merchandise hastily repackaged.

Reruns, as Reagan should know, have a certain appeal for devoted fans, but they cannot stay on top of the ratings for two years in a row. The evening was saved from being a complete anticlimax only by the Democrats' quaint political Gong Show, which followed Reagan on television.

Perhaps we ought to rethink just what the state of the modern Union address can and cannot be. It cannot be a true review of the nation or even much of a projection of a President's plans and hopes: the U.S. today is simply too big and too complex for that. Back in George Washington's day, we had a country of 4 million people governed by 350 people on a budget of less than a million dollars. A President could sum that up in ten minutes. (Washington did it in six.)

A State of the Union message is required by the Constitution. The founders intended that it serve as a channel of information from the Executive Branch to the Legislative Branch. For a century, Presidents wrote the message and had it delivered by hand to Congress. Today the actual State of the Union report is not one event but a whole series of special messages that tumble out of the White House for weeks. The address itself is only the preface.

Viewed that way, it is not without its value. The most important revelation in Reagan's speech may have been its mood and manner, the theme of bipartisanship that ran through it. The absence of accusation imparted a tone of cool reason. If we can believe this subtle melody, then Reagan may at last be ready to be President of all the people, not just of Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger and Senator Jesse Helms.

And in fairness we should not dismiss the pomp and ceremony that accompany a State of the Union address. The television pictures of the White House and Capitol floodlighted at night are enough to stir even the most jaded American. The collected leadership in the House chamber dressed in their Sunday best is a grand sight. But more and more the import of the President's words is lost in the hoopla. The sights and sounds become more important than the substance, the entertainment more coveted than the information. When a President delivers a smash speech, he often fools himself into believing that the effect is lasting. When he does not measure up to expectations, he suffers in public esteem.

One of the very first State of the Union messages to be televised was given by Harry Truman, who was still trying to inform the nation rather than dazzle it. He read in his reedy voice from a thick notebook, stumbling over words, losing his place. As drama it was grade-B Hollywood. As Government, it was a smash hit. This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.