McCain Won. But Will It Matter?

If tonight's presidential face-off between Barack Obama and John McCain were held before, say, the Princeton University Debating Society, it might have been scored a tie. On points, the two contenders were evenly matched. Both spoke clearly, crisply and confidently about the major issues facing the country, rebutting his rival's attacks and launching his own assaults when necessary. Neither looked at his watch, or sighed, or forgot to remove his 5 o'clock shadow. There were no memorable gaffes--or devastating zingers--that will define the debate on cable news and, later, in the single sentence devoted to the event in our grandkids' high-school history textbooks. It was a consummately professional affair.

But alas: presidential debates aren't scored scientifically. Committed partisans may keep track of everything their guy got right. But undecided swing voters--the ones who will decide the election--don't tally up points. Instead, they link what happens on stage--in a broad, impressionistic sense--to the narratives they'd already heard about the candidates. Which means it's up to the two men performing at the podiums to reinforce the positive, preexisting story lines and disprove the negative ones. In the end, Obama supporters will say Obama won. McCain supporters will say McCain won. The question is who won over more undecideds.

Tonight, I think John McCain was the more effective combatant.

There are two reasons why. The first is that he constantly--obsessively, really--spiked his responses with small but pointed jabs at Obama that unfailingly related to subjects he (McCain) wanted to talk about, whatever the original topic of discussion. This tactic had a dual effect. First, Obama couldn't help but take the bait; he must've said "that's not true," "let me correct the record" or "I just have to respond" a dozen times over the course of the evening. Second, Obama's defensiveness immediately shifted the conversation to McCain's home turf--where it remained, often for minutes at a time.

McCain's strategy was on display from the start. Fielding a question on the current fiscal crisis--not his best area--the senator delivered a flabby, unconvincing answer. But he swiftly segued to a criticism of earmarks and "out of control spending" in Washington--a pet issue that resonates as "reform" among voters--and slammed Obama for requesting $932 million for Illinois since arriving in the Senate (a stat he repeated three or four times). Of course, earmarks only represent $18 billion in spending--a tiny sum, as Obama pointed out. But the Democrat was still forced to rebut McCain's attack. Similarly, McCain deftly transformed a question about how the Wall Street bailout would affect the next president's priorities into an assault on Obama's tax plan and hefty spending proposals, both issues that (again) tend to favor the Republican. As a result, most of the economic portion of the debate--a half-hour or so that should've played to Obama's strengths--was spent on McCain's poll-tested terrain (earmarks, spending and tax cuts) instead of Obama's (the current economic crisis). McCain pulled the same trick on foreign policy, focusing the conversation on Obama's opposition to the surge and willingness to meet with unfriendly foreign leaders. Much of what the Illinois senator said on these subjects was smart. It's just that he was reduced to an essentially reactive posture, either defending himself or agreeing with McCain's more assertive remarks over and over again. (Obama muttered the phrases "John's right" or "I agree" about a dozen times tonight; the GOP quickly cut an Web ad.) Simply put, McCain was in control.

The second thing McCain had going for him was a sort of optimism. You'd think from the previous paragraph that the Arizonan was all negativity. But that wasn't the case. Obama wanted--understandably so--to tie McCain to the catastrophes of the last eight years; McCain wanted to pretend they'd never happened. Ironically enough, this turned out to be a rhetorical advantage for the Republican. Time and again, Obama would move to lay blame for a past failure--and McCain would pivot to a better future. On the economy, Obama looked back at a "failed policy" of "shred[ding] regulations and consumer protections"; McCain looked ahead to the spending he'd cut and the people he'd hold accountable as president. On Iraq, Obama focused on how we got in; McCain focused on how we'll get out. I'm not saying Obama was wrong on the issues. His criticism of the Bush Administration's incompetence was cogent, clear and largely correct. Nor am I suggesting that McCain didn't delve into the past; he was clearly at pains to list the places he's visited and the leaders he's known. What I am arguing is that while Obama blasted Bush, McCain looked past him. Coupled with his reliance on catchy anecdotes over bullet-pointed policy positions--"defying Reagan on the Lebanon deployment, the bracelet belonging to the mother of a dead soldier, the firing of Chris Cox, the bear DNA"--this post-Bush perspective may help McCain appeal to moderates, a group that's more interested in solving problems than engaging in the partisan blame game. It was probably a matter of necessity more than anything else. But he used it to his advantage.