Site Presented By
Monday, Nov 9, 2009
Bill Zimmerman, a political consultant, would probably disagree with the notion that Nader is the last honest man. As someone who has worked in progressive politics in California for the better part of 30 years, he has had numerous dealings with Nader. Indeed, one of Zimmerman's biggest victories came about because of Nader.
In 1988, Zimmerman was part of a coalition that got a pro-consumer initiative on the ballot promising to lower auto insurance rates as well as give California drivers a rebate. Not surprisingly, the insurance industry fought back hard. On Election Day, there were four measures on the ballot claiming to be insurance reform initiatives. Nader endorsed Zimmerman's proposal -- and it squeaked through. "Nader had a huge impact on getting it passed," says Zimmerman. "Ralph has a lot of clout when it comes to distinguishing the genuine article in a crowd of phonies."
But after several years, it became clear to consumer advocates that the measure wasn't delivering on its promises. Zimmerman and the coalition he worked with believed that fees paid to trial attorneys in auto accident lawsuits were a problem. "So we developed a consumer-oriented, no-fault insurance plan and got it on the ballot in 1994. It would have taken the lawyers out of the equation."
"Not only did Nader oppose it," continues Zimmerman, "but he wrote an Op-Ed for the Los Angeles Times calling me and other people 'consumer traitors.' This is typical of how Nader operates. Rather than arguing the merits or revealing his own financial support from trial lawyers, he publicly demonized the people who were advocating for consumers as shills of the industry. We never took a nickel from insurance companies. There was no logical reason for him to oppose it other than to protect his own financial interest."
Zimmerman readily acknowledges Nader's many achievements. But like others who had bitter fallings-out with Nader, he searches for a psychological explanation for Nader's behavior. "In addition to living inside this bubble of fame, he leads a very monastic life. He has no intimate relationships; he lives without emotional ties to other people. As a result, he is isolated from the kinds of things that help people reach emotional maturity. He has childish and narcissistic reactions to things. If he led more of an ordinary life, some of these problems might be mitigated."
In the past, Nader has lamented his isolated existence. "I didn't socialize much in Washington when I was well-known and heavily reported," he told biographer Justin Martin. "I could have easily. I'm really sorry that I didn't do more of that. It was like postponing it: 'I'm busy on this, I'm busy on that.' People loom much bigger now than they did when they were within a phone call. I felt I could always meet with them, so I put it off. That was a mistake."
It seems that the personality traits that have made Nader an effective advocate -- doggedness, indignation and disdain for how he is perceived -- are the same ones that foment disaster when translated into personal relationships and, more important, electoral politics.
Despite having shunned electoral politics for the better part of his career, as his influence waned in the 1990s, Nader began testing the waters. His first run for the presidency came in 1992, when he entered the New Hampshire primary race, garnering only a bit more than 3,000 votes. In 1996, he "stood" for president [Nader's terminology] as the Green Party's candidate, but spent less than $5,000 -- some say to avoid disclosing personal financial information -- and got less than 1 percent of the popular vote.
In 2000, again with the Green Party, he ran a full-fledged campaign, raising and spending money to get on the ballot in all 50 states. He drew huge crowds at places like Madison Square Garden in New York and Key Arena in Seattle. While he assured Democrats that he wouldn't campaign late in the election season in key battleground states, he reneged on that promise, zeroing in on Florida, Oregon and New Hampshire in the last few weeks before the election.
Few analysts predicted just how close the election would be, but a number of people who had worked with Nader over the years feared that his run for president would be disastrous. "When he announced [his candidacy in 2000] at a big gathering in Washington, I was the first person to stand up and say, 'How can you say there's no difference between Democrats and Republicans?'" says Gary Sellers, who was one of the original Raiders. "There was a big hush in the room. He had no response." Nader was the best man at Sellers' wedding; they no longer speak to each other.
