A propulsively readable and accessible account of how the American presidency and the American public relations industry evolved together in the 20th century. As Greenberg points out, the presidency itself grew in statute because it was able to harness public and media attention away from Congress and other politicians, and the public relations industry touted its own connection to the presidency to bolster its own importance. From Teddy Roosevelt onwards, the President was always also a celebrity, and Presidents gradually came to embrace this role and try ever harder to manage it. They came to rely on "press agents," speechwriters, pollsters, and ad-men. Roosevelt was an innovator in all these respects. Besides holding the first on-background press conferences, or seances, as he called them, he also adopted a Grover Cleveland-era stenographer named George Cortelyou to handle all press relations. Finally he hired Joseph Bucklin Bishop purely as a public promoter, in this case of the Panama Canal. These efforts horrified Senators Ben Tillman, Frederick Gillette, and others in Congress, who tried, largely unsuccessfully, to block all government spending on publicity. Still, future President Warren Harding used famed ad-man Albert Lasker, inventor of the "reason why" commercials, while Calvin Coolidge worked with Bruce Barton, the advertising genius who once portrayed Christ as the world's best self-publicist. Later, Dwight Eisenhower used Rosser Reeves, the Ted Bates Agency advertiser who came up with the "unique selling proposition" (USP), as well as TV's infamous Anacin ad, which featured a pounding hammer to illustrate headaches. Reeves designed the first presidential campaign slots for TV. Richard Nixon, who simultaneously decried and embraced advertising, populated much of his staff from the famed J. Walter Thompson advertising agency, and created the first "Communications Office" in the White House. His office popularized such ideas as the daily "line," the pitch the White House was going to make all day about what should be the next day's news story. H.R. Haldeman, a former Thompson employee, probably invented the term "news cycle," to describe what they were aiming at winning.
Greenberg goes into detail on Americans ever-conflicted feelings about this profusion of presidential spin. As early as 1896 Teddy Roosevelt could complain that President McKinley had been sold just like a bar of soap. In the 1920s, the New Republic brayed about an "innovation unique in all of history-government by publicity." Candidate Adlai Stevenson in 1952 attacked Rosser Reeves and the "The idea that you can merchandise a candidate for high office like breakfast cereal." Many former journalists who made their name attacking such propaganda, however, such as George Creel and Will Irwin, later tied themselves up with Presidents they liked and engaged in such spin with vigor. On the whole, Greenberg argues that most claims about a brainwashed public were and are overwrought. He shows public relations efforts tend to have "limited effects" on citizens, and presidential success and failure are largely determined by their policies and politics.
Although the last part of the book can be a little tendentious and spotty, on the whole this is a wonderful read for anyone interested in American politics and media. Its also a healthy antidote to those who bemoan a supposedly new culture of spin and dishonesty. Greenberg shows instead that debate and spin have been a continuous and important part of our modern politics, not to be overestimated but also not to be ignored.