I’ve said many many times that I don’t like speeches, with the exception of Churchill and Lincoln.
I don’t like them because I’m not an auditory learner and tend to mentally drift off during monologues, although I can pay very close attention to dialogues or to plays. I’m not sure what that says about me, but it’s always been the case. Speeches, sermons, lectures, book readings—it really doesn’t matter what it is, I have some difficulty with them all unless the speaker is unusually riveting or funny.
But I have another problem with political speeches that has less to do with my own personal idiosyncrasies and more to do with the medium itself, and it’s that although speeches tell us what message the politician wishes to give that day to that group, almost all politicians have speechwriters, which is the equivalent of a ghostwriter. Although the politician has final approval of the speech, and tells the speechwriter the general message he or she wants to convey, the speech actually tells us little else about the mind and thought process and intelligence of the speaker. It tells us a lot more about the mind of the speechwriter, who is often unknown and uncredited.
Of course, different politicians have different levels of interaction with their speechwriters. Some even suggest phrases and do some very heavy editing, while others give the speechwriter something closer to free rein, at least within the general boundaries of the basic point of the speech. The first type is reflected more in the speech he or she gives; the second type less.
Over time, a politician delivers a series of speeches that at least tell us something about what he or she wishes us to think he or she wants to do in office. But we still don’t know if those things will really be done, or whether the politician will even try. That’s why the phrase “campaign promises” contains a built-in sense of irony.
All of this applies to every politician who does not write his or her own speeches, and it’s one of the reasons I don’t think much of political speeches in general. It’s also one of the rationales underlying the debates—to give us the unscripted thinking of the candidates—although memorized sound bites (which every politician, not just Marco Rubio, employs) can take away from the extemporaneous nature of a debate to some degree.
Now, I don’t like debates either, as I’ve also stated many times. But that’s because I get frustrated at the way they focus on trivialities and sound bites, the length and number of them, the fact that all the candidates aren’t required to answer the same question, and the media’s (usually successful) attempts to get interpersonal conflict going. Debates are useful, however, for letting us know much more about the candidates’ minds and how they work than a speech does, and how they function under pressure. The same can be true of a non-softball interview. The general rule is that extemporaneous speech is far more telling than a prepared speech.
Donald Trump and Ted Cruz, the two GOP front runners and rivals, present an especially sharp contrast in that regard. The first contrast is in tone; brilliant lawyer and champion debater Cruz has a formal quality even when speaking off-the-cuff. Everything seems measured, including his pauses for emphasis. Although to me this speaks of an organized and disciplined mind and a stable emotional makeup, which I think are very good traits in a president, lots of people seem to hate it and to hate him for it. I’m not looking for a buddy (“who would you most like to have a beer with?”) in a president, but some people seem to be.
Donald Trump, with his casual and often fragmented and even incoherent, contradictory, and repetitive style is regarded by some people as fun, charming, non-PC, and a refreshing breath of fresh air. To me, his spontaneous remarks convey disorganization, and his catch-phrases (everything under him will be “great,” he “loves” just about everyone he doesn’t hate, other candidates are “nasty” or “stupid) are the product of someone who is speaking—not to be too-PC myself—empty bullshit or manipulative snark. Yes, I understand he’s signaling this that and the other thing, but to me he comes across as weak rather than strong, emotional rather than logical, inconsistent rather than firm, and bereft of ideas and even understanding of some of his own written (by someone else) policy positions.
But what really puzzles me is how often I see people reacting to a prepared speech by any candidate as though it means much more than the words that come out of a candidate’s own mouth unscripted. To me, that makes no sense.