Journalists though, shrug it off. "The story line of Al Gore exaggerating was a novelty last week," insisted Doyle McManus, Los Angeles Times Washington bureau chief, appearing recently on CNN's "Reliable Sources." A one-week novelty? Back in June, the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press found that between February and April, an amazing 76 percent of Gore's press coverage focused on scandal, and yes, exaggerations. Of course, the Gore camp, content to ignore mistakes and afraid to pick a fight with the press, shoulders much of the blame for its dysfunctional relationship with journalists. Newspeople today obviously fear no reprisal for skewering Gore with half-truths, an appalling double standard.
In a sloppy piece of schlock psychology in the New York Times on Oct. 15, reporter Melinda Henneberger tried to pick apart various Gore misstatements that stretched across three decades. In one illustrative example, Henneberger accused Gore of being "self-aggrandizing, as when he recalled that when he was a low-ranking enlisted man at Fort Rucker, Ala., Gen. William Westmoreland interrupted a formal departure ceremony to chat with him for an incredible 45 minutes." Then the Times delivered its zinger: "An Army buddy who was there recalled they talked for just a few minutes -- five, maybe." Sounds like the conversation may have lasted as little as three minutes.
Readers were never told who the "buddy" is, or why he'd have a better recollection 30 years later than Gore. Perhaps Henneberger should reread the recent biography, "Inventing Al Gore," by her husband, Bill Turque. As pointed out at the media critique site DailyHowler.com, Turque detailed the same encounter with Westmoreland, calling it "a conversation that lasted at least 10 minutes." Sounds like it could have been even 15 minutes.
Better yet, Henneberger might have just consulted her own clips. In July, she recounted the same tale, but stressed that Westmoreland pulled Gore "aside for a private chat -- and kept Mr. Gore's superior officers waiting, and watching." Sounds like it could have even lasted 20 minutes.
Truth is, Henneberger has no idea how long Westmoreland spoke with a young Gore 30 years ago, but by relying on an anonymous "buddy," she clearly left the impression the conversation did not happen the way Gore claimed it had. As an isolated incident, the duplicitous spin may seem minor; a colorful detail to a story twisted just so to maybe add a minor flourish -- or the impression of gravitas. But these types of subjective dispatches, where casual readers have no idea how much the reporting is stretched, have become the norm when it comes to Gore.
Double standard? Following the final presidential debate, Newark (N.J.) Star-Ledger columnist John Farmer summed up the Beltway conventional wisdom nicely when he wrote that though Bush was "misspoken and stumbling at times," he'd "won the style points going away." Now that's a neat trick.
Another quick example. Earlier this year Bush was facing scrutiny over the pending Texas execution of inmate Gary Graham, who was said by his defenders to be innocent. After Bush announced he would not stop the execution, syndicated columnist Mark Shields, appearing on PBS's "NewsHour With Jim Leher," suggested Bush had aced his presidential leadership test because he made his remarks, "in a suit and tie, with appropriately serious words and manner." If you doubt the press has ever credited Gore for wearing a tie and using serious words, you are correct.
Embellishments? After voters told pollsters Gore had clearly bested Bush in the first debate, pundits went into overdrive with stories of his sighs and fibs, which clearly marked the turning point of the fall campaign. Appearing on WFAN's "Imus in the Morning" show in New York, "Meet the Press" host Tim Russert reminded Imus the sighs were nothing new: "I'm familiar with the Al Gore sighing. He did 18 in the December debate with Bill Bradley." Eighteen? At the time, the Bradley camp tried to score points on Gore's sighs and actually came up with "official deep-sigh count" of seven. So was Russert embellishing?
The orgy of resentment that erupted toward Gore after the Boston debate did not occur in a vacuum. It sprang from a well-stocked reservoir of resentment the press has been tapping for a year. Go back to the night of a Democratic debate at Dartmouth College, where Gore's answers were greeted with boos and hisses -- not by Bradley supporters, but by working journalists. "The 300 media types watching in the press room at Dartmouth were, to use the appropriate technical term, totally grossed out by [him]," according to a Time magazine report last winter. "Whenever Gore came on too strong, the room erupted in a collective jeer, like a gang of 15-year-old Heathers cutting down some hapless nerd."
Online columnist Mickey Kaus traveled to New Hampshire and uncovered the obvious consensus among reporters on the vice president: "They hate Gore. They really do think he's a liar. And a phony."