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<text id=93HT1143> <title> 80 Election: The Great Debates Debate </title> <history> TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1980 Election </history> <article> <source>Time Magazine</source> <hdr> September 8, 1980 NATION The Great Debates Debate </hdr> <body> Jockeying for advantage is the name of the game for all the contenders By Ed Magnuson. Reported by Laurence I. Barrett with Reagan and Christopher Ogden/Washington. Only twice in the television age, 1960 and 1976, have presidential candidates formally debated, and it is an article of political faith that in both those hairline contests the encounters may well have decided the election. With all three candidates this year having long since agreed to joust, presumably a few aides should by now, with Nov. 4 only nine weeks away, have settled the details for the great TV debates of 1980. Quite the contrary. They are having surprising difficulties in getting the show on the road. With Democrat Jimmy Carter and Republican Ronald Reagan locked in a virtual tie in the latest opinion polls, and with Independent John Anderson desperately clamoring for equal public attention, the squabbling has permutations that were not possible in the one-on- one situations of the past. Publicly, this bitter campaign within the campaign was pitched in terms of high principles. Privately, each campaign was coldly determined to exploit what it saw as the potentially decisive weaknesses of its foes, as well as to capitalize on the strengths of its own man. Carter's strategists were pushing hard for as many sessions as possible with Reagan and were insisting, quite stubbornly, that the first one, which all agree could be crucial in making vital impressions on viewers, should not include Anderson. Carter's aides believe that Reagan is more likely to flub if he is matched head to head with Carter and has to face tough questioning on issues involving detailed knowledge of the Government. Presidential Press Secretary Jody Powell argued for excluding Anderson from the first debate on the ground that "it's one thing to say Anderson should be heard, but quite another to say he should be afforded the same status as the nominees of the two main parties. That's just not defensible." The Carter strategists do not want to cooperate in giving Anderson any wide exposure, on the well-founded theory that it would help his cause and thereby hurt the President's more than it does Reagan's, since lately Anderson seems to be pulling far more votes from Carter than from Reagan. But just as important, they want to establish a clear-cut first debate contrast between the President and Reagan; Anderson's presence, they fear, would cloud and diffuse viewer judgments on the outcome of the Carter-Reagan performances and reduce the President's chances of scoring a clear win in the public perception. The Reagan plotters, on the other hand, were fighting to give Anderson a chance to compete in the first one, although they were willing to meet Carter alone later on. They also wanted to limit the number of debates. "Frankly, I think there ought to be two debates," Reagan said last week, "One domestic and one on foreign policy." Why only two? Reagan's chief debate negotiator, James Baker, contended that preparing for a greater number of debates in various cities would take too much time away from campaigning. Argued Baker: "We want to debate, but we don't want to run around the country to win the debates but lose the election." Despite the current closeness of the polls, Reagan's aides figure he will regain a clear edge after the so called "halo effect" of the Democratic Convention's wide coverage fades and Carter's support drops. The Reagan strategists thus feel he has far more to lose in the debates than does Carter, and lose in the debates than does Carter, and they would really prefer to have no debates at all. But they know that Reagan, as the challenger who must demonstrate his presidential timber, dares not duck the exchanges completely. While Reagan is confident that his relaxed camera presence and soothing generalist's approach will prove effective, his aides candidly concede that Carter will have an incumbent's edge with his knowledge of Government. Admits one: "Facts, numbers and the precision of his engineering mind will make Carter a formidable opponent. Carter is a master at detail. He is going to be very, very tough." As for Anderson, the Reagan aides contend publicly that their sense of fairness precludes making any deal with Carter to eliminate the Congressman from the debates. Insists Baker: "We will not be a party to a device to carve up the turf and exclude a viable candidate." The Reagan advisers want Anderson included for the same two reasons that Carter's advisers want him out. They too believe that, at least up to a point, if Anderson gets stronger, Carter will suffer the most in voter preference. They also agree that a three-man exchange makes it less likely that Reagan will be seen as the clear loser if he has a bad night. In this jockeying for position and an edge, none of the political pros involved was fooling any of the others. Said Baker about Carter's people: "They're anxious to avoid Anderson at all costs." Said Powell about Reagan's men: "They're afraid of a one- on-one debate." Anderson's motives scarcely required any analysis. Nothing could raise his stature more quickly than to be seen by millions as just as competent in debate, or possibly even more so, than the major-party candidates. Anderson angrily accused Carter of taking a "narrowly partisan approach to the public's right to know" and of "frantic behind-the-scenes efforts" to rule him out of at least the first debate. He cited polls by ABC News-Harris Survey and the Roper Organization showing that more than 60% of Americans want to see a three-man debate and vowed to take his case to "the court of public opinion." With these conflicting interests in mind, the Carter and Reagan teams feinted and parried last week about the ground rules of the debates. The main battle was over the proposal by the League of Women voters, which had sponsored in 1976 Carter-Ford sessions. This time the League had drawn up a tentative schedule calling for three presidential debates (in Baltimore, Cleveland and Portland, Ore.) and one vice-presidential exchange (in Louisville). The League decided that the first debate, originally set for the week of Sept. 7, should include Anderson if the major opinion polls showed that he was supported by at least 15% of those surveyed. The League angered the White House not only by failing to consult it about the plans but by delaying the first debate until Sept. 18, thus giving Anderson more time to establish his eligibility. Jack Watson, Carter's chief of staff, openly solicited other groups to sponsor the debates by declaring publicly on TV that "the League does not have any franchise on presidential debates." Watson said that Carter would like to take on Reagan sooner than the League had planned. Carter quickly accepted invitations from the National Press Club in Washington, CBS's Face the Nation and the Ladies' Home Journal, all proposing an early Carter-Reagan face-off. But Reagan did not, claiming he was committed to the League's sponsorship. That left the League as still the most likely debate sponsor. Trying, but not too hard, to reach agreement, aides to both Carter and Reagan sat down for 2 1/4 hours of bargaining with League officials in their Washington headquarters. "It was clear in ten minutes that nothing was going to come out of it," said one Carter participant. The Reagan team accepted the League's invitation for the first debate, but both sides complained of scheduling conflicts. The League officials settled on Sunday, Sept. 21, following the telecast of a professional football game that would help beef up the TV audience. The Carter team pressed for the first debate to exclude Anderson. The League refused to budge from its position that Anderson should be included if he had a 15% ratio. For Reagan, Baker sought a free-flowing debate format roughly akin to the historic Lincoln-Douglas debates of 1858. Each contender would make an opening statement, then go at each other with rebuttals timed by a moderator. Scoffed a Carter aide: "Reagan wants to make speeches." The President, on the other hand, wants a format in which experienced reporters ask questions in their field of expertise and then pursue sharp follow up quizzing. The impasse caused the League to canvass its board of directors to reconsider its position. But the board stuck with its conditions for Anderson's entry in the first debate and set it for Sept. 21 in Baltimore. Stay tuned. <list> <l>September 22, 1980</l> <l>NATION</l> <l>Two for the Show</l> </list> THE PRESIDENT INSISTS THAT THREE'S A CROWD IN THE FIRST DEBATE By Walter Isaacson. Reported by Christopher Ogden with Carter and Eileen Shields with Anderson. When the danger became clear, when they saw there was no way between Scylla and Charybdis, the President and his men battened down for the whirlpool of criticism they knew was coming. With cold calculation, they had refused the League of Women Voters' invitation to debate both Ronald Reagan and John Anderson in Baltimore on the evening of Sept. 21. The alternative, they felt, was a greater risk--enhancing Anderson's stature as a contender by appearing with him in the key first debate. Maybe so, but there was also the risk that this time it was Carter who has shot himself in the foot. Trying to explain how the decision was made, Presidential Pollster Pat Caddell said, "There are no hard data. We just assume Anderson's presence helps him, makes him more legitimate, establishes him." Such added strength, they felt, would hurt Carter far more than Reagan since Anderson has been getting most of his support in the polls from disgruntled Democrats and thus could give key states--and the election--to Reagan. "He just doesn't deserve it," Carter told aides after the league invited Anderson to its forum. "It's a farce." Campaigning in New Jersey, the President squashed some sour grapes as he tried, with notable lameness, to defend his position. Said he: "I think Anderson is primarily a creation of the press. He's never won a primary, even in his home state. He ran as a Republican, and he's still a Republican. He hasn't had a convention. He doesn't have a party. He and his wife picked his vice presidential nominee." Later Carter told reporters that his professed willingness to debate all challengers is "unprecedented,' but insisted, as he has since June, on first going one-on-one with Reagan. "This is what we want," he said. That, however, is not what the league decided to offer. Last week, its five woman debate committee announced that Anderson had met the criteria of becoming a "significant" candidate-attaining a 15% rating in the polls. (The four most recent surveys were those of Yankelovich for TIME (15% for Anderson), Roper (13%). Los Angeles Times (18%), and ABC News-Harris (17%).) Said League President Ruth Hinerfeld: "Our task was relatively easy. Since the polling data were clear and unambiguous, our decision was unanimous." For Anderson the triumph was more than just the wondrous possibility of prime time with Reagan and Carter. Simply being invited boosted his status as a major candidate, and the continuing controversy helped keep him in the news. Conferring credibility is televisions' greatest power: "Television, ergo sum--I am televised, therefore I am," as Columnist Russell Baker puts it. CBS has already committed itself to covering the Anderson-Reagan duel live; NBC and ABC were still making up their minds at week's end. The league's decision reached Anderson as he was sipping coffee before holding a press conference in Hackensack, N.J. Two aides suddenly appeared with fists raised. "We won!" they shouted. "We're in!" Anderson strode into the press conference with the good news. "As you can tell by the smile on my face," he said, "I am certainly pleased to accept." Reagan was triply delighted by the league's decision: it took the spotlight off his recent series of gaffes, it put Carter in a bind, and it gave a boost to Anderson. Like Carter's, Reagan's aides are convinced Anderson hurts the President more than their man. When New York State's Liberal Party last week endorsed Anderson and thus put him on the ballot where he could coax more votes from Carter, one Reagan aide was so pleased that he sent Anderson Strategist David Garth a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Both Anderson and Reagan accused the President of avoiding the debate for selfish motives. Robert Strauss, Carter's veteran campaign manager, who was more nervous than the other aides about the decision to decline, admitted that self-interest was the main concern. Said he, "We have our selfish reasons. Reagan has his selfish reasons. We all have our selfish interests. Let's don't kid ourselves." With the cards thus laid on the table, representatives of the three sides met with the league later in the week to try again to reach a compromise. All the formulas failed. After more than two hours, Hinerfeld came out to announce that no agreement had been reached; Carter would probably be represented in Baltimore by an empty chair. Joked White House Press Secretary Jody Powell: "It'd be the only non-Republican item on the stage." Upon reflection, however, the President's men were upset by the prospect of the symbol of Carter's absence helplessly drawing the fire of the two challengers. "I can't believe they'd really do it," said one nervously. To prepare for Sunday's debate in Baltimore, both Reagan and Anderson plan to take off the last three days of the week. Reagan's strategy is to go easy on Anderson (after all, he may be more friend than foe at the polls, to flog Carter's record and to seek to project an image of confidence and common sense. Adviser James Baker, who prepped Gerald Ford for the debates with Carter in 1976, is leading a team that is compiling 30 short papers on issues, which Reagan will study this weekend at his temporary Virginia home. Says one adviser: "A debate of this kind is based on style and a few facts. We know Reagan has the right style. He'll be prepared on the facts too." Anderson is cutting this week's West Coast trip short to study briefing books containing his own programs, his past statements on issues, and his opponents' positions. Said he: "I see the debate as an opportunity not so much to talk about Carter's record or Reagan's, but to tell the public what I have to offer." Anderson may also view tapes of three Republican primary forums to see what worked for him and what did not: he had been cool and persuasive in Iowa, contentious and unconvincing in Illinois. Anderson is now well aware that his style, developed in the House, may be too "hot," in McLuhanesque terms, for television. Says he: "There is a certain gladiatorial aspect to such an affair, but I shall not come clanking onto the stage in armor that evening. I would hope that I could come equipped with a certain amount of discretion, humor, wisdom, and avoid what some people say is a tendency on my part to preach and sermonize" As the week went on, Carter's advisers, reviewing their daily telephone samplings, insisted that their stand was not hurting them as much as had been reported. Says Caddell: "It's the right position. we constantly review it, but every time we come up with the same answer." His counterpart, Reagan Pollster Richard Wirthlin, disagrees, saying that Carter "is wearing a black hat" and will end up taking "a great deal of heat." A survey completed last week by Louis Harris revealed that 69% of those interviewed wanted a three-way debate. Says Harris: "Carter's refusal to debate makes him the issue rather than Reagan or Anderson. If there is an empty chair, it is going to put Carter in a highly vulnerable position." Former Reagan Strategist John Sears disagrees. Says he: "Carter's right not to want to give Anderson that kind of exposure." Pollster Daniel Yankelovich thinks Carter is overly fearful of Anderson. says he: "I really think they are exaggerating the notion that Reagan is the beneficiary of an Anderson gain. And to the extent that it may be so today, it may not be so tomorrow. There are many people leaning toward Reagan who would normally prefer Anderson because they are moderate Republicans." As this year's primaries have shown, debates can be explosive issues in a campaign. For that reason, there have been only two general election debates in the television era. Richard Nixon agreed to face John Kennedy in 1960 because he felt certain he could show up the Senator's inexperience; the Vice President lost that bet. In 1976, trailing badly in the polls, Ford thought that a debate would reveal Carter's naivete about the Government. The Georgian got at least a draw--and a draw for a challenger is a win, as Carter knows all too well. Where negotiations on future debates will go from here is still uncertain. Reagan has not yet turned down the three invitations accepted by Carter from groups wanting to sponsor head-on encounters. Says Wirthlin: "We're not of a mind to preclude further debates." But Powell said last week: "There's a growing feeling around here that there may never be a one-on-one debate." The White House believes that Reagan, despite his claims to the contrary, does not want to duel the President. If there is no debate between Carter and Reagan this year, the voters will be deprived of the opportunity of sizing up the two men, head to head, as they project their personalities and discuss their programs. <list> <l>November 10, 1980</l> <l>NATION</l> <l>Now, a Few Words in Closing</l> </list> ON BALANCE, REAGAN BENEFITS FROM THE BIG DEBATE By Walter Isaacson. Reported by Laurence I. Barrett with Reagan and Christopher Ogden with Carter. It has been a long march from the snows of Iowa and New Hampshire, from the time when George Bush had the "Big Mo" and Ted Kennedy seemed to have the Democratic nomination for the asking, even from the balloons and ballyhoo of Cobo Hall and Madison Square Garden. As Campaign '80 finally and mercifully came down to a matter of days, the end at last in sight, two factors loomed as potentially decisive. One was the revival of the hostage drama, the other the debate between Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter. Both, coming so late in the game, threatened an unwise and disproportionate impact on Election Day. There were only a thousand spectators in Cleveland's Music Hall, but more than 100 million people watched the 90-minute debate. The President, tightly wound and always on the offensive, scored the most points on substance; Reagan, with a relaxed, reassuring demeanor that belied the President's portrayal of him as dangerous, came out ahead on style. When at the end, Reagan bounded 15 ft. to Carter's lectern to shake hands, both men were ready to take comfort, if not complete satisfaction, from their efforts. Said Reagan afterward: "I've examined myself, and I can't find any wounds." That, perhaps, was the biggest victory. Reagan was the challenger, who by credibly debating the incumbent could dispel lingering doubts about whether he was up to the job of President. Said Senior Adviser James Baker: "We only needed a draw to win." Reagan, in fact, did better than that. Said Carter Pollster Patrick Caddell: "It seems basically a wash, with maybe a slight edge for Reagan." Reagan Pollster Richard Wirthlin said his postdebate sampling of viewers found Reagan to have won by 45% to 34%. Independent polls done for CBS News and the Associated Press supported those findings: CBS gave it to Reagan 44% to 36%, the A.P. 46% to 34%. On perhaps the most important impact of the debate, its effect on those voters who had not previously made up their minds, the two polls diverged, CBS found Reagan picking up the undecided by 2 to 1, the A.P. showed the candidates splitting them evenly. The debate, while failing to bring out new positions of either man on the issues, provided a clear contrast between their personalities and basic beliefs. Reagan was tense at first, but he soon regained his mellifluous stage presence. Asked whether he was affected by sharing a podium with the President, Reagan quipped: "No, not at all. I've been on the same stage with John Wayne." Both candidates used the questions as excuses to pull out time-tested stump speech material. For example, when asked about international terrorists, Carter included a peroration on the dangers of nuclear proliferation. He seemed to have a mental list of topics he was going to get in, no matter the question or Reagan's response. The President was constantly on the attack with charges that Reagan's views on foreign policy and nuclear arms were reckless. But the Republican proved adept at delivering awshucks parries to Carter's thrusts. Indeed, Reagan had carefully rehearsed them before the debate in the garage of his rented Virginia estate, with Republican Representative David Stockman of Michigan playing Carter's role. As Stockman zinged charges, Reagan tried out two or three retorts before settling on the one that he used most effectively. When Carter accused him of opposing Medicare, Reagan, who did indeed contend that medical care for the aged would be better left in the hands of private insurers, acted as if Carter had again misstated his record. The ex-actor gave a bemused smile, cocked his head to the side and murmured: "There you go again." There were a few other memorable moments. One was when Carter said that he had asked Daughter Amy, 13, "what the most important issue was." Her answer: "Nuclear weaponry and the control of nuclear arms." Later in the week, when Reagan in Fort Worth declared that Carter acts "as if someone else was in charge of the country the last four years," several people in the audience chorused: "Amy! Amy!" Carter made only one conscious attempt at humor. When asked about his opponent's weaknesses, he poked fun at his own campaign excesses: "reluctant as I am to say anything critical about Governor Reagan, I'll try to answer your question." Carter scored many of his points on what his aides call the war-and-peace issue. He cited Reagan's "disturbing and dangerous" pattern of opposing all arms-control agreements, from the 1963 ban on nuclear tests in the atmosphere to SALT II. Carter, however, passed up the opportunity to use the forum for a ringing defense of SALT II's merits. Reagan responded by criticizing SALT II, but also promised to sit down with the Soviets for "as long as it takes" to get a real reduction in nuclear arms. He misleadingly denied Carter's claims that he had said he would "scrap" SALT II, that the U.S. should seek nuclear "superiority" and that nonproliferation is "none of our business." But he failed to make what could have been his most telling point: asking Carter why, if SALT II was so critical, had Carter done nothing for almost a year to get it passed. On domestic policy, Carter avoided politically uncomfortable facts such as the current inflation rate, which he cited as 7%, using this year's third-quarter average, and which Reagan put at 12%, the rate in September, the latest available monthly figure. (The Administration also did not disclose the fiscal 1980 budget deficit of $59 million, the second highest in history, until after the debate.) Citing Reagan's proposed personal income tax cut of 30% over three years, Carter warned that either Government spending would have to be cut by $130 billion--21% of the current federal budget--or the nation would face runaway inflation. Reagan, who at one point likened Carter to a "witch doctor," fell back on rhetoric: "Why is it inflationary to let the people keep more of their money and spend it the way they'd like, and it isn't inflationary to let (the President) take that money and spend it the way he wants?" A question on the Social Security system revived one of the recurring issues of the campaign. Charged Carter: "Although Governor Reagan has changed his position lately, on four different occasions he has advocated making Social Security a voluntary system, which would in effect very quickly bankrupt it." In fact, Reagan years ago did suggest that the system be voluntary, but he has lately dropped the notion. For all his predebate practice and coaching Reagan did not entirely escape trouble. The most embarrassing instance came when he began to answer a question about racial tension, saying: "When I was young, and when this country didn't even know it had a racial problem..." What he presumably was referring to was the time before the 1954 Supreme Court decision on school desegregation, the rise of the civil rights movement and America's national efforts to redress racial inequality and lack of opportunity. But it was not well put, and Carter quickly riposted that those who suffered discrimination "certainly knew we had a race problem." Carter made one verbal slip: he thanked the residents of Ohio for being hospitable "during these last few hours in my life," causing some jocular aides to wonder if he was about to fall on his sword. Independent Candidate John Anderson was not invited to the debate but voiced his views on a malfunctioning hookup of Cable New Network, joking that he felt "inadequate to compete with little Amy or a witch doctor." Hardly had the microphones been turned off in Cleveland than both candidates encountered some last-minute unpleasantness. Much to the Carter camp's chagrin, a critical report by Michael Shaheen, head of the Justice Department's Office of Professional Responsibility, on the department's investigation of Brother Billy's dealings with Libya, leaked out. Three times last month, the report says, Carter canceled scheduled interviews with department lawyers. The White House also has been reluctant to hand over requested documents. The report criticizes Attorney General Benjamin Civiletti for "dissembling" at a press conference at which he denied discussing the investigation with the White House. The Reagan campaign suffered embarrassment from the forced resignation of its chief foreign affairs adviser, Richard Allen, after the Wall Street Journal detailed a series of lucrative deals that Allen had made as a private consultant from 1970 to 1972. The article implied that in making them, Allen had improperly benefited from his position as a middle-level adviser in the White House under President Nixon. The newspaper also charged that he had leaked secret information about White House deliberations on U.S. export policies to a Japanese business associate. Damaging reports about Allen have been circulating in Washington and among Reagan's entourage for some time--all denied by Allen--but the candidate's top aides delayed acting until it was clear that Reagan was being hurt by the disclosures. Still, the week's political events were overshadowed by the fact that there had been a presidential debate at last. Although neither man said anything particularly new or revealing, more Americans than ever before were able to get a sense of the two contenders, a feel for what they believe, and insights into their underlying personalities. To that extent it summed up the flawed campaign more fairly than many had feared might turn out to be the case. For those tuning into the election for the first time, what they saw was basically what the rest of the electorate has been, getting all along. </body> </article> </text>