“This could have been Tim Pawlenty’s moment. With many Republicans writing off Rick Perry, worried Herman Cain can’t last, and perpetually dissatisfied with Mitt Romney, the former Minnesota governor might have gotten another look, had he stayed in the race. Given all the changes that have taken place in the GOP presidential contest, who knows? Pawlenty might have been a serious contender by now.
“Instead, Pawlenty is at home, having quit immediately after finishing third in the Aug. 13 Ames, Iowa, Republican straw poll. He has endorsed Romney — in what seemed a not-terribly-enthusiastic gesture — and he has publicly mused that maybe he got out too early. Indeed, there must be moments where Pawlenty kicks himself for bailing out of a race that proved much more volatile than anyone thought.”
— Byron York, “Pawlenty coulda been contender in this race”
No, sir, Mr. York. You’re completely wrong. Pawlenty’s mistake wasn’t quitting too soon. Pawlenty’s mistake was running for president.
Whatever his merits, Pawlenty lacks charisma. He’s less charismatic than Mitt Romney, and that’s saying something.
It is probably unfair that so many Americans believe that they can judge a man’s qualification for high office based on how he seems on TV. This process favors people who are good at seeming qualified, regardless of whether they actually are qualified. Nevertheless, we must live in the real world, and the reality is that “Minnesota Nice” didn’t play well on TV.
Back when he was actually running, people kept telling me that Pawlenty seemed weak in the debates. And the word “seemed” is inescapable in that formulation. Regardless of whether Pawlenty is weak, he seemed that way to a lot of people, and this was enough to destroy his candidacy. Because apparently the voters reckoned that whoever goes up against Obama must be ostentatiously strong. The fact that Michele Bachmann seemed stronger on TV than Pawlenty . . .
Finish that sentence however you wish. The point is that Byron York or anyone else who thinks Pawlenty would fare better now than he did three months ago is deluded. Pawlenty just didn’t have what it takes, and York’s revisionist “what if” hypothesis points to what was wrong with the idea of Pawlenty’s candidacy from the start. Pawlenty’s campaign was always more plausible in theory than it was in fact.
“Successful two-term Midwestern governor” is, theoretically, a splendid description of a presidential candidate. But when the successful two-term Midwestern governor has the demeanor of an undertaker, the theory is much less splendid than it might appear on paper.
One look at Tim Pawlenty ought to have been enough to dispel the theory of his candidacy, yet he was one of two names — along with Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels — mentioned by George Will in May as having a “reasonably certainty” of winning the GOP nomination and beating Obama. And one look at Mitch Daniels . . .
Perhaps you get my point. The TV Age doesn’t necessarily require successful presidential candidates to look like movie stars, although being an Evil Dead ringer for Bruce Campbell certainly hasn’t hurt Mitt Romney. Yet it is amazing that candidates like Pawlenty and Daniels, who simply don’t look the part, always strike pundits as so eminently plausible. Ditto the jolly jelly belly from Jersey, Chris Christie.
Also, Byron, you get a five-point foul for invoking “many Republicans” as a sock-puppet for espousing your own sense of the campaign. It’s a convenient rhetorical device, but it’s sort of a push-poll kind of thing — the “suggested sell,” as they say in food service: “Would you like to add a fried apple pie to your Value Meal, sir?”
“Many Republicans” can be deployed endlessly, e.g.: “Many Republicans are glad they don’t have to worry any longer about that boring blowhard Tim Pawlenty,” or “Many Republicans don’t even remember that a guy named Tim Pawlenty was ever a candidate for president.”
The last thing in the world we need at this point is a bunch of woulda-coulda-shoulda second-guessing over stuff that we can’t go back and change. Pawlenty is gone, and best forgotten, and I don’t want to hear any more about him.