On Politics: When a president speaks after prime time, who listens?
Good evening! I'm in Chicago, where we're covering the Democrats' prime-time problem, Gov. Gretchen Whitmer's selfie-taking strategy and a Republican's view of the proceedings here. My colleague Michael Grynbaum, who covers media, starts us off.
When a president speaks after prime time, who listens?The latest, with 77 days to go
Democrats are headed into their second night of convention programming with lofty goals: Persuade the persuadables. Inspire the masses. And, please, just try to do it all on time. After Monday night's telecast stretched well past midnight on the East Coast — a delay that organizers blamed on "raucous applause" from the crowd — several speakers were contacted and instructed to shorten their prepared remarks. And Tuesday's proceedings began at 5:30 sharp, local time. If those changes result in a tighter show, it won't matter for President Biden, whose valedictory speech on Monday began a few minutes before 11:30 p.m. Eastern and ended in the wee hours. All of which prompted a question bouncing around Chicago on Tuesday: Does it matter if a president speaks in prime time? Biden's late-night appearance was not by design. Organizers had hoped his big moment would start 40 minutes earlier, within the traditional bounds of television's most watched hours between 8 and 11 p.m. — and before millions of voters in Georgia, Michigan and Pennsylvania went to bed. In fact, Democratic officials went to great lengths to ensure Biden did not speak even later, axing a planned performance by the singer James Taylor and a lavishly produced video tribute to the departing president. When I observed on X last night that the delayed start might reduce the size of Biden's live TV audience, I heard from many commenters who pointed out that millions of Americans live in other time zones, and that millions more were likely to watch a recording of his speech later, on the internet. "I do not understand all this hand wringing over this," the journalist Julie Brown wrote. "Half the viewers are already recording this event and the other half will stay up….it's almost as if people think the year is 1975 and we all watch TV like we did then." Brown is right that media consumption has changed drastically in the last half-century, and there's no doubt Biden's speech will circulate on YouTube, TikTok and other platforms. Many voters in Western swing states like Arizona and Nevada were wrapping up dinner when Biden began, primed for a presidential digestif. But live TV still has a unique ability to create a collective moment, to concentrate the attention of a splintered country. There are vanishingly rare opportunities for a politician, even a president, to command a simultaneous audience of tens of millions of people. And the last time that happened for Biden, it did not go well. In June, 51.3 million Americans watched the president struggle in a debate against his Republican rival, former President Donald Trump. Biden dropped out three weeks later. Biden's 15-minute farewell address from the Oval Office last month was seen on TV by 29 million people. But his speech on Monday was perhaps his final opportunity to present a triumphant account of his career to a mass viewing audience while soaking up the adulation of thousands of adoring fans. That his appearance was pushed so late could explain some of the grumbling within Biden's circle. Anita Dunn, a close adviser to the president, said on Tuesday that Democrats "haven't run a live campaign since 2016, and clearly we may have forgotten a little bit about how to do it." "I was fully looking forward to speaking at 11:30 at night," she joked during an afternoon event hosted by CNN and Politico. Nielsen said that Monday's convention telecast was seen on TV by 20 million viewers, about the same number who tuned in four years ago. None of this has stopped Democrats from holding back major speakers until late in the Eastern time zone, which is home to nearly half of the country's population. According to an official schedule, Tuesday's headline speaker, former President Barack Obama, is set to begin his address at 11 p.m. Eastern. A selfie-line innovationI covered Senator Elizabeth Warren's 2020 presidential campaign, so I became accustomed to the intensive, multistep photo lines she set up after each event. That might be why a technique that I saw from Gov. Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan this morning caught my eye. As Whitmer left a breakfast held by delegates in North Carolina, Democrats who wanted a selfie with her formed their own line. Each person held up his or her phone, with the front-facing camera on and ready, as Whitmer hopped down the line from person to person, generating each selfie in a matter of seconds. It was an efficient assembly line — and one I wouldn't be surprised to see other politicians emulate as they try to maximize their impact here, however they can. — Jess Bidgood
Advice to Kamala Harris from a RepublicanTonight, several Republicans will take the stage in Chicago to urge members of their party to cross the aisle and back Vice President Kamala Harris. My colleague Sharon LaFraniere, who covers politics, ran into a different Republican at the United Center last night — and kindly shared this report. High up in a back-row seat of a packed Chicago arena on Monday night, Asa Hutchinson, a Republican and the former governor of Arkansas, was taking in his first Democratic convention ever. Hutchinson, who ran unsuccessfully for this year's Republican presidential nomination, said Democrats' enthusiasm matched that of the Republicans' at their July convention, which he also attended. "They are very unified, at least at this point," he said of the Democrats, "notwithstanding the protests." Hutchinson, 73, premised his campaign almost entirely on warning Republicans about what he sees as the dangers of former President Donald Trump. He pulled out of the presidential race in January after a poor showing in the Iowa caucuses, and then endorsed Nikki Haley, the former South Carolina governor. Now a political contributor with Scripps News, he stepped into the hallway of the arena to speak with me, interrupted several times by Democratic friends. "Great to see you here," said Ned Lamont, the Democratic governor of Connecticut, walking by in sneakers. Hutchinson's less-than-stellar record in his own presidential campaign did not keep him from offering Harris a spot of advice about hers. "One of the key objectives is not to scare America, particularly the moderate, middle-of-the-road voters," said Hutchinson, who was Arkansas's governor from 2015 to 2023. "That's the first thing that Kamala Harris has to achieve." Was the convention helping Harris do that? "So far, they're off to a good message," he said, noting that various speakers had hit on their middle-class backgrounds. Asked if the convention's speakers were too negative about Trump, describing him as a "villain" and "career criminal," he replied, "Good question." He said it was important for Harris to show "that happy-warrior mentality and to convey that sense of optimism to America" and to be careful "not to cross that line." — Sharon LaFraniere Read past editions of the newsletter here. If you're enjoying what you're reading, please consider recommending it to others. They can sign up here. Have feedback? Ideas for coverage? We'd love to hear from you. Email us at onpolitics@nytimes.com.
|
posted by Goatz @ 4:43 PM
0 comments
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home