Matt writes:
In retrospect, however, Bush was less the last of the governor presidents than a transition to the new era in which, to be president, you need to be a famous celebrity. Mayors of New York City are always famous, because the people who run the media live in New York. Hence, Rudy Giuliani is a serious candidate (and even Michael Bloomberg is considered a more serious possibility than he should be). John McCain spent all of 1999, 2000, and 2001 chasing positive press and became famous in the process -- so he's a serious candidate. Barack Obama has an extremely interesting personal story and was one of the only Democratic successes in 2004, so he became famous and now he's a serious candidate. John Edwards got famous running on a national ticket, so he's a serious candidate. Hillary Clinton's husband used to be president (you may have heard), so she's famous and she's a serious candidate. Most absurdly, Mitt Romney happened to preside over the Massachusetts gay marriage controversy, thus becoming famous and, therefore, a serious candidate.
The only alternative path to achieving "seriousness" as a contender, it seems, is the one that Mark Warner followed -- being governor of Virginia, where a healthy proportion of the country's political class lives.
Some of these examples are stronger than others. Edwards was a "more" serious candidate in 2003 than he is in 2007, largely because he looks like a celebrity and was on Gore's shortlist. I don't buy the Romney rationale. His "seriousness" comes from the universal health care plan, which is the sort of compromise-politics the media likes, the fact that he's a Mormon and that's-kinda-weird, and, once again, he looks like a movie star. And even Rudy is serious because he unexpectedly got a starring role in a major televised event, not just because media types live in New York. Schwarzenegger was being talked up two years ago literally because he was a celebrity, he'd done nothing in California.
But those arguments don't harm Matt's central point, which is that celebrity has overwhelmed all other considerations. The path to that celebrity can be argued over, but substantive policy achievements and broad, deep experience isn't it. If Bill Richardson* looked like Matt Santos, maybe he'd be a "serious" candidate. But not until.
*I should probably say that I attended a small policy breakfast with Richardson and found him very underwhelming. He talked of tax cuts and making Democrats "the party of space." His is a resume without -- at least thus far -- an inspiring vision or a clear ideology, and it's worth saying that pure technocrats rarely win national elections. The hunger for celebrity is unfair, but the appetite for inspiration isn't necessarily off-base.
