'Survivor': The Prequel

'Survivor': The Prequel
The Clinton presidency was the first "reality TV" show.
BY CLAUDIA ROSETT
Thursday, March 1, 2001 12:01 a.m. EST

There are moments when an individual unintentionally sums up his entire philosophy, perhaps his very soul, in a single remark. Such a moment arrived Tuesday for Bill Clinton. It may offer some insight to those, especially the recanting Democrats, still asking just what hit them.

Some of you might already be wondering if he merely repeated the signature phrase, "I did not have sexual relations with that woman," or perhaps delivered an entire speech consisting of nothing but the word "I" (or maybe "is"). But no, wiser as always for his latest round of troubles, the former president went beyond all that, to share with a New York conference crowd his observation that "there is no longer a clear dividing line between news and entertainment."

He should know. Though he meant to deplore the situation, no one in our time has done more to erase the dividing line between news and entertainment than Mr. Clinton himself, with some hefty help from Hillary. Having turned the presidency into a prime-time soap opera, and the White House into a 24-hour cash-and-carry, this pair brought us a world in which the only way to stomach much of the top news for eight years was to try to regard the Clinton clan as raw entertainment. You know, all those zesty episodes where they bring out the pink sweaters and cigars and hope Denise Rich will drop by at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Tune in to cozy evenings with Hillary and brother Hugh in the Map Room, poring over cattle-future quotes and hazelnut contracts and occasionally finding a few lost billing records. Cut to the president, ever busy in the Oval Office, feeling our pain, phoning Monica and settling million-dollar billing disputes with CBS for his cronies.

Not that watching this was always pure fun. Bill is a man without borders, and part of watching the Clinton capers usually entailed wondering what genuinely important limits of conscience--and presidential responsibility--he would slop across next.

"In our increasingly interdependent world, there's no dividing line between domestic policy and international affairs," Mr. Clinton said in his Tuesday speech, delivered to guests of Credit Suisse First Boston and Variety magazine. Coming from a normal person, this might be just a stock comment on modern times. Coming from Bill, it's a reminder that U.S. foreign policy--including open combat--was for a while a function of his cheatin' sex life. Recall that seamless web in which his 1998 antiterrorist missile strikes abroad were impeccably timed to divert attention from his domestic disgrace over Monica.

In Tuesday's borderless speech, Mr. Clinton went on to encompass yet more turf, laying out the alarming notion that he is especially interested in "the role of the media in educating Americans about the way we relate to the rest of the world." This is something "I plan to spend the rest of my life on," he said.

I'm not sure whether that means he's going to provide endless new scandals for the headlines or simply that he's itching to elbow out Al Gore as the weirdest instructor at the Columbia School of Journalism. But somewhere in all this charting of the modern universe, Mr. Clinton did point the way toward a comforting thought.

For years it has baffled and bothered me that for all his lying and arrogance, for all his two-timing of the American people (never mind whatever deals he struck with Hillary), Bill has ridden strangely high in the nation's popularity polls. The current scandals should hardly surprise anyone who noticed such prior mishaps as his perjury, obstruction of justice and impeachment. But even now, with his pardon-furniture-office-Roger-Hugh-library-gate departure from the presidency splashed all over the news, a recent Gallup poll shows him with a 42% favorable rating from the public. Sure, that's down from 57% last December. But it still means a lot of Americans approve of something here. What on earth is it?

The usual explanation is that people liked the booming economy of the '90s, and the folks who got a lot of Clinton-mandated handouts were especially smitten, perhaps because they thought the money was his (and maybe sometimes Bill thought so too). No doubt there is much to that, even if President Bush must now cope with the economic slowdown and big-spending government Mr. Clinton left behind.

But the further explanation for Mr. Clinton's high marks in the polls comes from the ex-president's observation that there is no dividing line between news and entertainment. A lot of folks, never mind the facts, are just rating the show itself. Think of the Clinton presidency as merely one more "reality TV" series, an inside-the-Beltway version of "Survivor II" or "Temptation Island"--and suddenly the ratings make a lot more sense. For creative use of office, given the institutions he had to work with, Mr. Clinton has been one of the liveliest performers to come along since Emperor Caligula made enduring news by giving a seat in the Roman Senate to his favorite horse.

Fortunately for the nation, Mr. Clinton ran into the fairly sturdy bounds of the democratic process, a system that draws some basic lines between the presidency and, say, a game show or the Roman court. (Not to mention the 22nd Amendment, which mandates the cancellation of a president's show after eight seasons, no matter how high the ratings.)

Unfortunately, though, he did do about as much as one president can to erode those boundaries. President Bush is now going about the vital business of restoring dignity to the White House. As for Mr. Clinton, here's a suggestion. CBS is now taking applications for "Survivor III." I'll bet if he made a phone call, his buddies at the network would snap him right up. Just think of the ratings.

Ms. Rosett is a member of The Wall Street Journal's editorial board. Her column appears Thursdays on OpinionJournal.com and in The Wall Street Journal Europe as "Letter From America."