One of the great consistencies of the news media is that you can always rely upon us to beat everything to death. Then roll it over and beat it some more.
Forty years after the Watergate scandal led to the resignation of President Richard Nixon, everything attached to the mere scent of human corruption receives the suffix “gate.”
Doesn’t matter what it is. Missing wallet? Walletgate. Bad batch of fish? Fishgate. Someone broke into your home and swiped your toothpaste? Colgate.
Before Watergate, scandals were known, oddly enough, as “scandals.” Now? They’re “gates.”
After the George Washington Bridge lanes closure scandal finally escaped Fort Lee, it took roughly six seconds for the broadcast and print media to call upon their collective cleverness and need for catchy headline brevity to come up with . . . “Bridgegate.”
Next, our broadcast and print media stayed their no-better-idea course to present the politics-predictable thoughts of commentators — those on the left, those on the right.
Those on the left, Democrats and Liberals, claimed that “whatever went on,” New Jersey’s Republican Governor Chris Christie either had to know about it or was in some way and to some extent responsible for it. And, regardless, “it’s a big deal.”
Those on the right, Republicans and Conservatives, claimed that “whatever went on,” New Jersey’s Republican Governor Chris Christie did not know about it and was in no way responsible for any of it. And, regardless, “it’s not a big deal.”
In other words, both sides agreed: They had no idea what went on. And so they applied their ignorance of the subject to reach firm but opposite conclusions.
But that’s what those calling the shots demand: Speakers (preferably shouters) or writers of strong, indisputable conclusions based purely on predictable wishful thinking — the kind designed to please an audience that wants to hear and read what it wants to hear and read.
Uninvited, yet again, are those homely sisters, Maybe and Perhaps.
Consider that MSNBC’s Lawrence O’Donnell has, in essence, already declared Christie guilty . . . of whatever it is he’s suspected or accusedof.
Next, Rudy Giuliani appeared on NBC’s “Meet the Press” to declare that Christie is being victimized by “a partisan witch hunt.”
How does either man know that what he’s strongly suggesting — or even claiming — is true? They don’t. If they did, we trust, they’d present us the proof or tell us where it’s stashed.
But how sexy is it, after all, to present a man who stands up and boldly shouts the truth, as in, “I don’t know!”?
Even if “I don’t know!” is followed by “but let’s get to the bottom of this,” such commentary, no matter how sage, doesn’t pay anyone’s bills.
There is the obligation to quickly choose a side, then go to war on that side’s behalf — the ready, fire, aim! of things. It’s illogical and often even dangerous, but who wants to hear from someone who concedes that he or she doesn’t know — even if he or she demands to know more?
Such prudent, measured and reasonable men and women, no matter how valuable they could be in the long run, have no place among the shrill political media.
Even if one such commentator were hired — perhaps as a matter of accident or misunderstanding — he or she wouldn’t last long.
Common sense is not glamorous; it doesn’t accumulate YouTube hits. Common sense makes lousy TV because it’s not easily hollered. It’s tough to demonstrate raw emotion, authoritative conviction and great personal resolve while shouting, “Maybe!”
Shucks, it wouldn’t even make for a story if someone were fired for publicly demonstrating the discipline and good sense to reserve judgment pending the active pursuit of facts.
He or she would be quickly out the door, quietly ushered back through the gate he or she entered. There would be no Doorgate.