Personality Disorder

Robert Draper's cover story from this weekend's New York Times Magazine, "The Making (And Remaking) of McCain," details the transformations that the McCain narrative has undergone in the last year. Given such an in-depth look at the abrupt shifts in policy and values that McCain and his advisers have hazarded in the run-up to the November 4th election, one gets a better sense for why his campaign has devolved into such a spectacular mess. Whereas George W. Bush won two elections largely on the strength of his conviction (no matter how wrong-minded or absurd it might have been), McCain has often seemed a candidate in search of an identity, caught between the rebellious instincts that once defined him as a "maverick" in the House and Senate, and the demands of a Republican base that spurned him in 2000. The result has been a palpable discomfort -- with his message, with his supporters (this lady, for instance) and, no doubt, with a last-minute, gimmicky vice-presidential choice who will likely prove to be the albatross that costs him the election.

The truth is, though, that with or without the disaster that is Sarah Palin (who is apparently already campaigning for 2012 -- how delusional can you be?!), John McCain -- or, at least, 2008 John McCain -- is simply the wrong candidate for this moment in history. The Obama campaign has been revolutionary not only in the way that it has raised money (shunning big donations from special interest groups in favor of smaller donations from individuals, what an idea!), but also in the way that it has branded its candidate with hip, iconic logos that make as much of a fashion statement as a political one. Hell, the guy even has his own presidential seal! And while that may seem blasphemous to traditionalists, it is perfectly tailored to an open-source culture that values nothing so much as appropriation (take, for example, Girl Talk, a musical artist whose songs consist entirely of samples, and who has found considerable success despite being virtually untouchable for mainstream radio). Obama speaks to our generation in much the same way that Bobby Kennedy spoke to his, and he has the following to prove it.

Still, it's hard not to wonder whether the John McCain of eight years ago -- the campaign finance-reformer who had an open and easy rapport with the press and younger voters -- would have fared differently in this election. Perhaps Obama's success in adopting the mantle of reform would have forced McCain to retreat from the middle ground no matter what, like an army withdrawing to the safety of fortress walls, albeit under a somewhat unfamiliar flag.

In any event, the McCain narrative is ultimately a tragic one. Even if he somehow miraculously wins the election (and I literally just knocked on my wooden bed frame in hopes that he doesn't), the victory will have come at a severe cost, not only to his ideals and party, but also to the country as a whole. This election, coupled with eight years of the Bush White House and its with-us-or-against-us rhetoric, has brought out the worst in people (see Michelle Bachmann) and opened up some very deep social divisions -- the last thing we need is someone trying to forge a new identity for this country who can't even get a handle on his own.

Note: For a fascinating portrait of the John McCain we used to know and love, I highly recommend Robert Timberg's The Nightingale's Song.