Opinion

Mitt’s class problem

Mitt Romney has a problem. No, not his spotty record as a conservative or his advocacy of a health-care mandate. Not even the fact that he ran a private-investment firm that laid off people. Those are matters he addresses with great fluency, and while his answers may not satisfy many in his own party, they are thoughtfully conceived, the best possible case he can make for himself.

No, his problem is with Mitt Romney.

Or, rather, the Mitt Romney who tries and fails to make connections with voters, the Mitt Romney who tries to address complex matters of class and stumbles, the Mitt Romney whose gaffes all suggest a deep awkwardness when it comes to talking about money.

Over the last few days, he’s made two such gaffes. The first came when, in an attempt to show his deep roots in Michigan, he allowed as how his wife Ann has “a couple of Cadillacs.”

You can see the thought process that went into the off-the-cuff anecdote. Romney’s in Michigan; Cadillacs are American cars made in Michigan; Romney has come under some fire for opposing the bailouts of car companies. So how best to demonstrate his and his family’s support for Michigan than by pointing out his wife owns not one but two expensive cars made in the state?

Logical — until you get to the result. The anecdote failed because it didn’t make Romney more likable, more human, more like the people to whom he was speaking — the sole reason any politician would talk about what car his wife owns. Rather than making a connection with voters, he was driving home the economic and class difference between them.

Americans are, perhaps, the least class-conscious voters in the world, but that’s in part due to a social compact between them and the wealthy people they vote for: They don’t want that wealth lorded over them.

A quarter-century ago, they knew the patrician George H.W. Bush was probably fibbing when he said he liked pork rinds, but voters weren’t put off by it because the gesture was oddly endearing in its clumsiness — a bit like a hapless but loving suitor who brings chocolates to his beloved’s diabetic mother.

Romney appears incapable of striking even that tone, which is interesting. After all, he is one of the most intelligent and capable men ever to run for the presidency, as his brilliant career in business demonstrates.

And he’s a quick study, as the vast improvement in his skills as a campaigner from the 2008 election cycle to the present demonstrates. He is the only candidate in the Republican field who hasn’t had a bad debate, and there have been an astonishing 20 of them.

But how then to explain this head-shaking attempt at the common touch when he showed up at the Daytona 500 in Florida to show himself off to the hoi polloi who enjoy NASCAR (staged at a raceway with a staggering 167,000 seats)? Asked how closely he followed the sport of stock-car racing, he said: “Not as closely as some of the most ardent fans. But I have some great friends that are NASCAR team owners.”

Romney flew from Michigan to Florida in the middle of a heated primary to make this appearance, and blew it big time. He went to show he was a regular guy and ended up showing he knows the rich guys who run the sport.

Why can’t he get this right? The bar is set very low. There are so many rich men in politics that it can’t be that much of a liability.

I can only hazard a guess that Romney, far from being so comfortable with his wealth that he has lost any real sense of how others live, is in fact discomfited by it and has an irresistible impulse to talk it down. To pretend he isn’t really. To say to his listeners, “Hey, we’re a lot alike!” when they’re not.

His wealth isn’t a problem for him. How he handles his wealth on the campaign trail is. If he doesn’t get a hold of this problem and resolve it, it may sink him. Now or later.