Because the election was about more than just the economy, stupid. It was about a generalized sense of insecurity–the fraying of basic institutions like the schools, the evaporation of family and community, the relentless unraveling of moral and ethical standards. Bill Clinton won because he conveyed the impression-far better than George Bush did that he understood those fears. He rode his bus, haunted the bowling alleys, talked about social issues-like welfare and crime-straight up, in terms of personal responsibility. The lifestyle left was muzzled at the Democrats’ convention; the Hollywood liberati jumped on the bandwagon too late to hijack it. No, he never hedged his support for gay rights, but that was acceptable-indeed, honorable-in the larger context: this guy seemed to share America’s moral priorities, a “different” kind of Democrat.
At least, until he got elected. On those rare occasions since Nov. 3 when the focus has strayed to social issues, the emphasis has been almost entirely on rights, not responsibilities-the rights of homosexuals, of feminists, of women seeking abortions (another nuance: the public favors abortion but opposes paying for abortions). Granted, much of this has been involuntary. Clinton didn’t exactly plan to have his first few weeks in office dominated by the gay issue. But the silence on social problems that affect more than a fraction of the populace is noteworthy. Indeed, the only ranking member of the administration to emphasize personal and parental responsibility has been Hillary Clinton–again last week, in Parade magazine–and her credibility is compromised by her higher-profile role as White House Diversity Commissar.
It is not merely the president’s sudden diffidence on welfare reform (an issue he used to great effect during the campaign). Real welfare reform may be politically impossible: expensive, complicated and, if it isn’t really toughminded, only marginally effective; in truth, the money may be better spent cutting the deficit and improving health care. But there are other, more immediate signals of concern that can be sent without spending so much: an all-out effort to discourage teenage pregnancy, for example. This wouldn’t be easy, either, but it’s a moral issue that can’t be ignored: out-of-wedlock births to teenagers are at the heart of the nexus of pathologies that define the underclass. In fact, an executive order announcing such a program was supposed to be issued on Jan. 22, paired-quite appropriately-with the orders lifting federal restrictions on abortion counseling. But somehow teenage pregnancy never made it past Donna Shalala’s desk. And it still hasn’t. (The latest word is that Shalala’s waiting for the administration’s designated moralist, Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders, to arrive this summer.)
There’s also crime. Clinton hadn’t breathed a word about it until his desperate-and rather embarrassing-attempt last week to revive his short-term stimulus plan by adding $200 million for communities to rehire laid-off police officers. Where was public safety the first time around? And what ever happened to the Police Corps, a program that could (1) put 100,000 more policemen on the streets nationally and (2) demonstrate the value of Clinton’s national-service proposal by recruiting them through a college-scholarship and boot-camp training system-and that nearly passed the Congress in 1991? Clinton seems to favor worthy but marginally successful antipoverty programs like Head Start and summer jobs (funneled through corroded urban bureaucracies) over crime prevention. This is anachronistic, standard-issue liberal-ism, and the clearest indication yet that his social priorities are at variance with the public’s.
But it isn’t just Clinton’s legislative priorities: his body language hasn’t been very good, either. He’s been spending too much time with the usual suspects-the showbiz crowd, the activists-and not enough time out with the public. He doesn’t challenge people to take responsibility for their own lives as he once did; he offers them programs. He lists toward moral relativism; he doesn’t talk about what’s right and wrong anymore. And the suspicion grows that he didn’t really mean it the first time. If that suspicion takes hold, he’ll lose the public trust-and, inevitably, his presidency.
