Today's NYT looks at Karl Rove's new role as multi-media bloviator. It hits many of the expected notes, including the question of whether his advice to the McCain campaign qualifies him as an "adviser."
More broadly the piece uses Rove as the illustrative example of a trend in journalism (or "journalism," depending on one's point of view). The article traces the trend as far back as George Stephanopoulos's switch from the Clinton White House to ABC News, it goes much further back.
From the NYT:
One year ago, when he was still a deputy White House chief of staff in the Bush administration, Mr. Rove was more likely than not ducking news organizations.
Now, he has joined them, as an analyst for Fox News and a contributor to Newsweek and The Wall Street Journal. A book is in the offing, too. (Still no word on a radio show, but there was an NPR appearance late last week.)
At times clearly partisan, at others apparently offering down-the-middle analysis, Mr. Rove in his new role as a media star marks another step in the evolution of mainstream journalism, where opinion, "straight news" reporting and unmistakable spin increasingly mingle, especially on television.
George Stephanopoulos's abrupt move 11 years ago from the Clinton White House to ABC News -- initially as a partisan member of a Sunday political panel who would also do some reporting -- raised hackles inside and outside the network.
If anything, the trend has become more open. As I recount in White House Ghosts: Presidents and Their Speechwriters, Franklin Roosevelt's first presidential speechwriter was an aide named Raymond Moley who left the administration within its first few months -- officially.
In October, 1933, Moley, as editor and columnist, helped launch Today, a weekly news and opinion magazine which in 1937 would merge with News-week to form Newsweek. What few knew at the time was that Moley would periodically take secret trips to Washington, slipping unnoticed into the White House to help the president draft his speeches. Imagine the scandal if it were disclosed today that, say, Dan Klaidman, Newsweek's managing editor, were secretly President Bush's top speechwriter.
Moley split with FDR after the first term, but the presidential-press dance continued. The Eisenhower administration had such deep ties to the Time/Life publishing company, as I recount in White House Ghosts, that Time/Life officials became concerned that the company had become a "house organ and captive publisher."
(A note of full disclosure, lest anyone accuse me of favoring my employer: U.S. News & World Report has probably produced or hired more presidential speechwriters -- David Gergen, James Fallows and Michael Gerson to name a few -- than any other media organization.)
The roster of former presidential aides who have assumed prominent roles as commentators and journalists is long and distinguished, including not only the aformentioned trio but also the likes of Hendrik Hertzberg, Chris Matthews, Peggy Noonan, William Safire, Pat Buchanan, Tony Snow ... I could go on.
This is to say nothing of the informal advice reporters have given to presidents over the years, including to FDR, JFK and even through Bill Clinton. But of course you'll have to read the book to find out the details.
None of this is to suggest that the increased (and increasingly visible) blurring of the lines between journalism, advocacy and politics is not distressing. But we should be aware of the deep roots of the phenomenon.