by Bob Lehrman
Dense yet lofty speech blends oratory and urgency in seeking to engage a disparate coalition
Barack Obama is in love, but don’t worry. Unlike other politicians, his affairs won’t get him into trouble but out of it.
He is, for example, in love with litany—that scheme of repetition, using the same words and structure that allows politicians to build from sentence to sentence, achieving power no other pattern allows.
He is love with antithesis—the “Ask not” contrast that allows speakers to reject the bad idea to propose their good ones.
He is in love with the inspirational example—the concrete, moving story or quote that reminds us of a larger purpose before moving us to action.
And in last night’s 5,400-word speech on health care we saw President Obama’s love of rhetoric—not just these devices but others, too—on display.
That was good for Obama, because he came into the speech needing to get out of trouble. The trouble wasn’t exactly what the overheated reporters were saying. (“Bipartisan or any means necessary?”) Nobody who follows Obama speeches could have any doubt about his striking a confrontational stance with Republicans. He wouldn’t. His style has always been to do what the research shows is most persuasive to people: Concede error, praise opponents, strike a middle ground, and demonize only unnamed extremists.
And the question was not whether he would reach out to the GOP. Despite his lip service to bipartisanship, Obama has known from the start that he can’t count on that side of the aisle. He had to reach out to Democrats—both Blue Dogs and liberals.
He also had to win back some of the millions of people watching who have fallen off the Obama bandwagon, because every point he gains in polls gives his legislative aides more power when they sit down with Senate staffers and say, “The President wants X in the bill.” He couldn’t just be a wonk. He had to inspire.
As soon as we saw the guests last night—two Kennedy sons in the box, and Ted Kennedy’s widow, Victoria, seated beside the First Lady—we knew that he would inspire and what he would use.
But first things first, a few paragraphs about the economy to remind people he’s getting them out of a ditch: a litany of disaster (“Credit was frozen … financial system was on the verge of collapse.”); a reminder there are tough times ahead, and another litany of what he will accept (“until those Americans who seek jobs can find them…”).
But then came his transition into health care—and first memorable antithesis (“We did not come here just to clean up crises. We came to build a future.”). Nice.
When Ruth Bader Ginsburg joined the Supreme Court, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, the top court’s first female justice, welcomed her by saying: “It’s important to be the first. It is also important not to be the last.”
Obama uses that “first-last” antithesis a little differently. “I am not the first President to take up this cause, but I am determined to be the last.”
And then he does something that shows he understands persuasion. He calls the problems of health care “our collective failure.”
In the campaign, McCain people ran an ad showing Obama conceding points where McCain was right. They made a mistake. Research shows that admitting failure, crediting good ideas to your opponent, and rejecting extremes all foster trust. Sure enough, pretty soon Obama is crediting McCain for an idea he’ll use. McCain has to grit his teeth, smile, and flash a thumbs-up.
The structure for Obama’s speech—as it often is for his big speeches—comes right from public speaking texts: a modified version of Monroe’s Motivated Sequence, the five-step format—attention, problem, solution, vision of success, and call to action—designed to motivate people to act.
Obama used two tragic examples to win attention. He used litany after litany of stats and facts for the problem section, along with a nice, three-part way of leading into applause lines. (“This is heartbreaking, it is wrong, and no one should be treated that way in the United States of America.”)
And to fix this problem? Classic Obama. Like the joke my old boss Lloyd Bentsen used to use (“Some of my friends say X. Some of my friends say Y. I’m for my friends.”), Obama strikes a credibility-winning middle stance. He summarizes views of “those on the left,” then those “on the right.”
“There are arguments to be made for both approaches,” he says. He doesn’t say they are good arguments. But he sounds reasonable.
And can you really echo the Rev. Martin Luther King (“Now is the time!”) in a speech full of numbers? Yes, you can. “Now is the season for action! Now is the time to deliver on health care!” Obama shouts.
There’s a risk to pointing out all these rhetorical devices. It’s that people see this speech as cheaply imitative. Effective speechwriters should imitate. But whatever you think of Obama’s ideas, last night’s speech wasn’t cheap, and it wasn’t just imitative. Does he get the credit, or do his writers? It’s impossible to tell. But the things Obama loves, are all evident in speeches he did write himself, such as his 2004 keynote. They aren’t that hard to learn. Whoever gets credit, there were some refreshing things last night.
Analogies. Those comparisons to auto insurance and public universities really did clarify.
Refusal to demonize. He hasn’t always refused. But a Democrat acknowledging that even insurance companies are made up of people? That’s unusual.
Willingness to sound articulate. On the whole, the speech is written at a 10th-grade level—no, I’m not good enough to estimate; I use the Flesch-Kincaid index available on Word. And as usual Obama uses slang—cherry-pick, gaming the system—to sound human. But there are also times when he is shows that he knows English. One good example, four paragraphs from the end (“without the leavening hand of wise policy … [when] only timidity passes for wisdom”).
Finally, his use of Kennedy to inspire. Obama quotes a letter bearing the unmistakable rhythms of Bob Shrum, which might even have moved Obama’s one heckler, Rep. Joe Wilson R-S.C. But Obama isn’t content to use the one unexceptional phrase about the “character of our country.”
He ruminates. He uses Kennedy to praise Republicans, reminding them—and us of the need to work together. Then he comes back to the phrase in his referral ending clincher. That’s more than Rhetoric 101.
Is the speech perfect? Of course not. Too much passive voice (10 percent!) He could have used one more richly detailed story. There is too much straw man—rebutting the unattributed idiot. Whenever you see a sentence that begins “Some say,” be on guard.
But given the need to yoke policy and politics, inspiration and calculation, it was very good.
Will it “replace acrimony with civility” as Obama calls for in the end? Probably not. But my feeling was this: Obama’s poll numbers will go up. He will get a bill. It will not just be a marginal change. We will have everything from comparative effectiveness research to comprehensive insurance for most.
And Obama’s love affair with rhetoric will remind millions of Americans—at least for a while—why they have loved him.
Former Chief Speechwriter for Vice President Al Gore, speechwriter, American University professor, and novelist Bob Lehrman will see his new book, The Political Speechwriter’s Companion: a Guide for Speakers and Writers, published by CQ Press this fall.
[This article was originally published on ragan.com and is reprinted with Bob Lehrman’s express permission.]
There’s a long tradition of heckling at political events in the U.K. and in many other countries where deliberately interrupting public speakers is seen as a legitimate form of protest. 