The author, a former presidential assistant, questions the validity of decisions made by our presidents who have become increasingly insulated and protected from the voice of the people
If you are curious to know what is probably wrong with the presidential system of government, like what we have here in the Philippines, then you can get a lot of insights from this book written by an insider to the system, a former Special Assistant to the US President Lyndon B. Johnson, even if it was first published more than 40 years ago.
So when you, for example, learned how quickly (and urgently) the Philippine government recently passed the Anti-Terror Law (with its amorphous definition of terrorism that can be applied to practically anyone doing anything remotely antagonistic to the government) despite the much bigger problems brought by the pandemic which needed all of the government’s attention, you’ll see the truth of what the author said here right at the Foreword of this book:
“(O)ne of the few historical principles in which I still retain faith is that an inadequate government will either fall, or resort to repression.”
which he sort of repeated in the book’s penultimate chapter:
“A society confronted with insoluble problems usually turns to its organs of repression.”
This book is quite prescient and because of that it is both fun and a horror to read. In the US now, many are of the opinion that Trump is a little bit off in the head, if not completely deranged. Is it really possible for a country to have a President who is mentally ill? In a chapter entitled ‘It Can Happen’ the author said, yes, it can happen:
“A highly irrational personality, who under other circumstances might be medically certifiable for treatment, could take over the White House (the equivalent of the Malacanang Palace in the Philippines, it should be pointed out) and the event never be known with any degree of assurance.
“This statement is not based upon any pretensions to psychiatric knowledge, and nay psychiatric words in this chapter are to be read in their popular sense. No effort will be made—or should be made—to indulge in amateur medical diagnosis. But I do have some experience with the reaction of human beings to irrational behaviour, and it is clear to me that where presidents are concerned, the tolerance level for irrationality extends almost to the point of gibbering idiocy or delusions of identity.”
How could this be? The author says it is because—
“(t)o put it more simply, no one is going to act to interfere with the presidential exercise of authority unless the president drools in public or announces on television that he is Alexander the Great. And even in these extreme cases, action would be taken hesitantly indeed.
“This reluctance, of course, does not spring merely from awe of high office or fear of retaliation. At bottom, it is a reflection of the ultimate nature of the presidential office—an environment in which for all practical purposes the standards of normal conduct are set by the president himself. To those immediately around him, he is the one who determines what is rational and what is irrational, and the public reaction to whatever he does is not immediate unless it brings on catastrophe.
“Added to this is the protective screen the White House draws around its principal occupant. He is surrounded by assistants who consider their number-one goal in life to be that of presenting their ‘Chief’ in the most favourable possible light.”
The president was, of course, just joking.
Then you’ll hear him conduct a meeting with his cabinet and, after the meeting, decisions of national importance will be announced but they’d be more or less always ones which hew with what had already long been publicly known to be the president’s opinion, predilection or position on the issues. Why is that? Well it is because when you are in a presidential cabinet your number goal, as a “public servant,” is to serve the interest of the people, to help the president make the best possible decision, right? WRONG. Your main goal would be to survive, cabinet positions being positions of trust and confidence. Your main goal would be to tightly hold on to your cushy jobs and you can never do this by displeasing your boss, the president, or engaging him in debates which could make him look silly. So whenever you open your mouth during cabinet meetings, or even in a private tete-a-tete with the boss, you make sure that you only say what you know he wants to hear or what would make him happy. A typical Office of the President, then, is a nest of sycophants. It—
“does not provide an atmosphere in which idealism and devotion can flourish. Below the president is a mass of intrigue, posturing, strutting, cringing, and pious ‘commitment’ to irrelevant windbaggery. It is designed as the perfect setting for the conspiracy of mediocrity—that all too frequently successful collection of the untalented, the unpassionate, and the insincere seeking to convince the public that it is brilliant, compassionate, and dedicated.”
Surrounded by yes-men (and yes-women) a president loses contact with reality. So millions have lost their jobs? Not to worry says his glib-tongued favourite secretary, there are still more of those who still have their jobs. Hunger stalks the land? No problem, the people are resilient. Why the seeming need to shield the president from such harsh realities? Well, they claim it is because he is the president, already the most overburdened man in the republic so you need to ease his burden with optimistic prognostications. However:
“The concept of the overburdened president represents one of the insidious forces which serve to separate the chief executive from the real universe of living, breathing, troubled human beings. It is the basis for encouraging his most outrageous expressions, for pampering his most childish tantrums, for fostering his most arrogant actions. More than anything else, it serves to create an environment in which no man can live for any considerable length of time and retain his psychological balance.
“A president can be rude, insulting, and even downright sadistic to his closest advisers and their only response will be: ‘How fortunate that he has people around him who understand the tremendous burdens he is carrying.’ He can display the social manners of a Vandal sacking a Roman villa and his intimates will remark to each other: ‘We don’t care about his style. The only thing that is important is his deep feeling for the urban poor. Of course, he is somewhat crude but what does that matter?’ He can elevate a mediocre sycophant to high position and members of his entourage will remark to each other: ‘You know, it is amazing how perceptive and socially conscious that young man is!’
“The burdens would be lighter, the urban poor would be better served, and the young men might be more perceptive and socially conscious if presidents had to face the same minor social penalties that the rest of us do. An occasional ‘go soak your head’ or ‘that’s stupid’ would clear the murky, turgid atmosphere of the White House and let in some health-giving fresh air.
“This, however, is not a likelihood. A president moves through his days surrounded by literally hundreds of people whose relationship to him is that of a doting mother to a spoiled child…”
And this also explains why presidents do not like the press. The media has this nasty habit of telling or reporting things as they are and these usually bring pain to presidential ears.
“Of the few social institutions which tend to keep a president in touch with reality, the most effective—and the most resented by the chief beneficiary—is the press. It is the only force to enter the White House from the outside world with a direct impact upon the man in the Oval Room which cannot be softened by intermediary interpreters or deflected by sympathetic attendants.
“This state of affairs does not arise out of any special integrity on the part of the press which, after all, is an institution manned by human beings subject to the same forces that govern human conduct generally. Neither does it spring from any unusual defenses or counterforces working against manipulation on the part of the president. It is simply a matter of press function, which is to inform the public of the president’s actions. No matter how sympathetically that function is performed, a foolish act will appear foolish, an unpopular act will arouse antagonism, and an act in conflict with previous actions will appear contradictory.
“The significant impact of the press upon the president lies not in its critical reflections but in its capacity to tell him what he is doing as seen through other eyes. This is a service which, though little appreciated, is indispensable, as it will rarely, if ever, be performed by any other medium….”
The promise of change is always what the people fall for during elections or even during revolutions only to find, in the end, that everything has remained the same.
OK, so George Reedy was the main dude in the journalism school at Marquette University from 1972 to 1996 when he retired. I was in his class on politics and the press -- twice. It was considered an advanced class, and yet it was one of the easiest classes at the university, mainly because Reedy would sit back and tell his war stories about being press secretary under Lyndon Johnson in the mid-1960s, and we would simply soak it in. He left the administration in disagreement with the Vietnam policy and then wrote this book, which charted the rise of the imperial presidency. Lyndon Johnson was so pissed when he read it that he never spoke to Reedy again. So Reedy became dean of journalism at Marquette, but by the time I was in his class in the early '80s he had stepped down from that post to be the distinguished professor of journalism. There were no more than 10 kids in his class, and we'd sit around a small table and he'd regale us with his stories and gently prod us for feedback as he talked about the Truman-Dewey and Kennedy-Nixon elections of '48 and '60 and so on. There were never any tests that I can remember. I think I just sat there and listened and somehow got an A. I think everybody got an A. Reedy was a genuine classicist of the Socrates school: just everybody sit back and listen. The only thing missing was the sunlight and the tree. As for the book, I never finished it, to be honest, even though it's short.
This book was written in the early seventies, so it's interesting to read it from the 21st century perspective.
In a nutshell, Reedy does not like our government system. He thinks it gives the president too much power, more like a king than an elected official. He sites several reasons for this. A couple, I suppose, are valid.
One is that the president is too out of touch with the people and is surrounded by yes men, thus giving him an insulated and unrealistic view of the needs of the populace.
He prefers the British parliamentary system. He fails to explain how that form of government would prevent the despotism he fears in our system. I cannot look at England and see a government that is better serving the populace.
In Twilight of the Presidency, George Reedy uses his personal experience as a Johnson aide, along with the study of other administrations of the 20th century, to comment on the apparent decline of the US Presidency as an effective force for serving the public good. Writing in an age that had seen the ill repute of the Johnson and Nixon administrations, followed by the benign but inept administrations of Ford and Carter, Reedy was pessimistic about the future of the presidency. In our own age the imperial presidency has revived and waxed even stronger, to the degree that American families may hear or mention the president by name more than their own relations! Yet for all the time that has passed, Twilight of the Presidency's insight into how the presidency as an office works remains incredible.
Reedy refers to the office as an elective monarchy, and maintains it had that potential from the beginning. Yet except for Abraham Lincoln, no president of the 19th century really used the office to its full authority. The essential advantage of the presidency, Reedy writes, is the will to action: the Supreme Court can only decide on such issues arrive at its doorstep, and the Congress is an enormous bureuacracy whose wheels are clogged with corruptive grime. The president can act on his own accord, can be -- The Decider. He can seize the initiative and put everyone else on the defense while Congress is still attempting to get a bill from a subcommittee to the floor. Another advantage in the president's court is the aura of his office; the American president is simultaneously the head of government and the head of state. He enjoys much of the reverence given to a figure like Queen Elizabeth the II, escaping direct personal abuse as someone like Tony Blair or Nick Cameron might have to endure during "Question Period".
In one chapter, Reedy dwells on more of the monarchical trappings of the office of POTUS: the fact that the chief executive is surrounded by hundreds of people every day, all of whom are fixated on him. They may be White House staff serving his needs so he can focus on the issues of the day, or enthralled aides waiting for their chance to bask in the royal farr and be noticed. This bureaucratic cloud has the effect of isolating the president from society at large; their own opinions being the only ones the president hears. They're hardly representative: Reedy writes that Johnson couldn't understand the youth rebellion against him, because all of the young men in his employ were perfectly at ease with the administration's current Vietnam policy. More substantially, Reedy comments that because the host around the president is there to serve and administer his wishes, he rarely receives pushback from policy suggestions. (Reedy alleges that the only president of the 20th century who was nearly completely successful at staying connected to the people, instead of being hemmed-in by his advisors, was FDR. ) Reedy comments mournfully that there were numerous times that the United States might have resisted further entanglement in Indo-China, but when Johnson passively expected alternatives, all he received were alternating views on what his aides thought he wanted to do -- stay the course. Staying the course is almost always the easiest thing to do, even when considered objectively it's unwise. Presidents are not objective, however; they are the subject of national attention, and of history books. They are the face and will of the nation. If a private citizen makes a mistake that costs him dearly, he is free to cut his losses and walk away with a slightly reddened face and a lighter wallet. But if a President decides engagement in Vietnam or Iraq was a mistake, he has not only wagered money but lives and honor. To write off the lives of thousands of young men and women is not a task easy to do in a democracy.
The office's isolation and policy inertia of part of the reason why perfectly intelligent men can make astonishing missteps in office, whether it's invading Cuba on bad intelligence, or invading Iraq on....can the WMD threat even be dignified as 'intelligence'?. Another aspect, though, is the growth of the office itself: we've come a long way from Washington and his three secretaries. Because so much authority has been delegated to executive agencies, it is perfectly possible for people of one department to make pivotal decisions under the aegeis of presidential authority without the executive actually knowing about it. The bureacracy is now so large that it has institutionalized itself; it moves under its own inertia, and a particular department's long-running policies and officers can outlive presidents. This is why Reedy, despite being a Democrat, thinks it is perfectly possible that Iran-Contra could have been created and implemented without Reagan actually knowing in full what was happening.
Twilight is incredibly insightful, and admirable. Although he wrote out of concern for an office whose efficiency was fast diminishing, his exposure of why remains true today. At least in part, that is; I assume the presidency has become even more isolated from the American people because of security concerns. The 2016 election results, which took D.C. utterly by surprise, may indicate how out of touch the imperial center is with the people beyond the coasts. I wonder if such a book could be written today: Reedy had the advantage of witnessing or knowing people who remembered the presidency when it was still boring, before Hoover and Roosevelt made the office a source of daily fixation. Could an author who has grown up with the imperial presidency analyze it in this fashion? I doubt it.
As a history student in undergraduate school, I find none of this to be unique at face value. My understanding of American politics and the ever increasing isolation of the American president led me to get bored with what Reedy accounts for. However, what is interesting to his well informed opinions is that he predicts where we are now with our society and choice in leadership. The suggestions to improve our society by Reedy are the same that I hear around me in the circles that I am in. Reedy was right and accurately saw things coming down the pike.
Dated in parts (particularly with its coda of optimism, which I want to believe but can't in today's current political climate), however no better book if you're interested in what it's really like to be President.
A book written in 1971 has more to say about the current political environment than most current news.
Mr. Reedy's makes clear the limitations of human rulership and is doubtful of the ability of mankind to fix the problems that have only metastasized in the body politic.
An interesting and highly opinionated book by a man who served under Lyndon Baines Johnson. He contends that the presidency has developed into an imperial office that is isolated from the public. Interestingly, his book came out just a few years before President Richard Nixon---who often is thought to have been especially isolated---had his presidency collapse. Indubitably, presidential power has increased over the past century tremendously. Presidents regularly make law and take actions without explicit congressional authorization. But with presidents these days regularly running polls and interacting with the public via social media, it is unclear whether Reedy's depiction of America's executive as out of touch still holds true.
I read this book during the very beginning of the 2008 primaries, as Bush's approval rating was finding its nadir. This book is incredibly relevant to the current political climate, and addressed many of the issues that we have seen with the Bush administration. It needs to be back in print.