The Buck Stops Here

By Hugh Sidey

The presidential commission is a peculiar creature of political expediency, at times the refuge of a timid and hesitant Chief Executive. The libraries of America groan with tomes from such advisory groups pronouncing on the great issues of the day. They have ranged in purpose from Lyndon Johnson's Atlantic-Pacific Interoceanic Canal Study Commission (a six-year, seven-volume study for an alternative to the Panama Canal) to Dwight Eisenhower's Commission on Presidential Office Space (seven months and 40 pages of mind-dulling prose). The truth is that most of those reports are unread or unheeded or both. And in some cases, such as the 1970 recommendations of the Commission on Obscenity and Pornography, they are denounced by both Congress and the White House, the very folks who asked for help.

So it is fairly remarkable that within three months two presidential commissions have delivered policy conclusions that have had sweeping impact. The recommendations by the Commission on Social Security Reform are now largely law, saving the system from bankruptcy. Those from the Commission on Strategic Forces gave new life to the multiwarhead MX, while shifting our long-term emphasis to smaller, single-warhead missiles.

Since a presidential commission usually signals a failure of the normal governmental machinery, Chief Executives have been wary of appointing too many of them. But the new successes have made the White House wonder whether we should have blue-ribbon panels assigned to two of the biggest problems we face: the budgetary chaos that is producing huge deficits and the lack of a coordinated defense plan.

Alan Greenspan, who headed the Social Security commission, points out that Congress is ill suited to take away either the wealth or benefits it has granted. "Our commission," says Greenspan, "gave both Congress and the White House political protection." While pleasing no one, it spread the sacrifice equally. The commission met in an atmosphere of crisis because the Social Security fund was practically broke. An answer was needed, and a deadline had to be met. "I saw demagogues forced to be statesmen," chuckles Greenspan.

The sense of urgency was essential for success. So was the stature of the commission members. Placed in a room with fellow overachievers, all worked to the peak of their abilities. Lane Kirkland, president of the AFL-CIO, was not about to be compared unfavorably with Alexander Trowbridge, president of the National Association of Manufacturers. A kind of magic set in, relates Greenspan. For a heady time, the national interest transcended all other considerations. The commission worked out the problem, and the White House and Congress were so overjoyed at avoiding political blame that they accepted changes in benefits and taxes that had earlier made them balk.

The same reaction occurred in the meeting room of the Commission on Strategic Forces. Men like Henry Kissinger and Harold Brown, noted one participant, "were remarkably well behaved," sublimating their egos for the good of the group. They knew the stakes were larger than their own reputations. That report was the work of four former Secretaries of Defense, two former Secretaries of State and three former directors of the CIA. And their recommendations brought endorsements from three former Presidents. Would-be doubters were instantly humbled since virtually every top expert in strategic affairs had signed on.

Years ago, Woodrow Wilson argued that the clearest principle of representative government was that "somebody must be trusted." When politics threatens that trust, as now, the presidential commission, judiciously constituted and carefully used, can be one way back to confidence. This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.