By Marc Jampole
Obama was Obama in his 2014 State of the Union address.
He set an agenda that will help staunch the bleeding from
more than 30 years of class warfare by the wealthy on the rest of us. But that’s
all it will do—staunch the bleeding.
As usual, the President didn’t go far enough. He asked for
tax reform that would close loopholes for businesses, but not for any increase
in taxes for the wealthy. He gets on the universal pre-K bandwagon, but he
doesn’t say anything about more teachers and returning government support of
public schools and universities to pre-Reagan levels. He raises the minimum wage for employees of
government contractors for new contracts, but only to a paltry $10.10.
Did anyone expect anything else from Obama, who always talks
progressive and acts centrist? Except, of course, in matters involving national
security, in which he is a neo-con’s dream, even if they won’t admit it.
As far as his boldness in using executive orders to
accomplish what Congress in unwilling to do, many will share my perceptions
that it’s about time and he could have done more.
From the standpoint of writing, the speech was fascinating. He
opened by cataloguing hypothetical vignettes of a country on the right track.
He didn’t bother to introduce the subject, but went straight to these imagined mini
case histories, following Horace’s dictum to “begin in the middle” (in media res).
In presenting these vignettes, Obama used the same sentence
structure in each case. Repetition of a phrase, rhythm or sentence structure to
start each of a series of sentences is one of the most well-used and successful
rhetorical devices in speeches (and poetry). Repeating “I have a dream…” gave
Dr. Martin Luther King’s speech of that name its eternal power. The
accumulation of the same phrases—or the same sentence rhythm in the case of
Obama’s 2014 State of the Union address—mesmerizes people. People also delight
in the musicality of the repetition, as the speech suddenly turns into a
variation on theme.
These two techniques—opening with an anecdote and using
repetition—are standard among professional speechwriters. I teach both techniques
to young writers who work for me or in seminars.
All very clever, but it doesn’t make it a great speech. To
attain the immortality of Dr. King would require vivid images, and in almost every
case, the President and his speechwriters settled for the most general
statement one could imagine. Instead of creating a vivid image, they merely made
points.
For example, Obama starts with “Today in America, a
teacher spent extra time with a student who needed it, and did her part to lift
America’s graduation rate to its highest level in more than three decades.”
“Spent extra time” is very general. Why not, “spent extra time to
explain the Electoral College”?
Next sentence: “An entrepreneur flipped on the lights in her
tech startup, and did her part to add to the more than eight million new jobs
our businesses have created over the past four years.” The overly general “flipped on the lights in her tech
startup” could be “hired 10 people to work for her automation software
company,” which is still general but more specific than “her tech startup.”
Next sentence:
“An autoworker fine-tuned some of the
best, most fuel-efficient cars in the world, and did his part to help America
wean itself off foreign oil.” The
speechwriters were reaching for the broadest of generalities with “fine-tuned.”
Are they so lazy that they can’t find an article on the Internet about jobs in
auto factories? It took me a few minutes
to find the information that led to this alternative: “programmed an automated
machine that fabricated an engine part.”
And
on and on he went, piling generality on top of generality: “A farmer prepares for the spring…”
Finally his fifth example paints a picture, creating what Carson McCullers
called piquancy: “A rural doctor gave a
young child the first prescription to treat asthma that his mother could afford.”
But then he turns general again when he talks of a father on a bus ride home
from work “dreaming big dreams for his
son…”
Typically,
a variation on theme in poetry or a speech ends with the longest variation, as
a way to unwind, change subjects or convey a sense of completion. It is only in
the last long variation of Obama’s address that he presents a vivid image: “And in tight-knit communities across
America, fathers and mothers will tuck in their kids, put an arm around their
spouse, remember fallen comrades, and give thanks for being home from a war
that, after twelve long years, is finally coming to an end.” Note that
Obama saves the creativity for the part in which he tells a half-truth: “the war is coming to an end,” also means
that the war is not yet over. I remember that the Viet War was “coming to an
end” for about half a decade.
The remainder of the President’s address is quite
conventional. Like every State of the Union since Ronald Reagan, Obama peppers
the speech with mentions of people who serve as symbols for successful or failed
policies. Some examples:
- “Andra
Rush opened up a manufacturing firm in Detroit. She knew that Ford needed parts
for the best-selling truck in America…”
- “Misty
DeMars is a mother of two young boys. She’d been steadily employed since she
was a teenager. She put herself through college. She’d never collected
unemployment benefits. In May, she and her husband used their life savings to
buy their first home. A week later, budget cuts claimed the job she loved. Last
month, when their unemployment insurance was cut off…”
- “Estiven
Rodriguez couldn't speak a word of English when he moved to New York City at
age nine. But last month, thanks to the support of great teachers and an
innovative tutoring program, he led a march of his classmates – through a crowd
of cheering parents and neighbors – from their high school to the post office,
where they mailed off their college applications.”
Andra, Misty,
Estiven and the others mentioned serve in place of facts and figures. I call this
rhetorical device “arguing by anecdote.” Writers love it, especially when they
have the facts against them, as research by Daniel Kahneman and others
demonstrates that most people will trust one anecdote over substantial facts
and figures that prove the opposite, especially when the anecdote supports what
they already believe.
Reagan was the first
President to mention real people in anecdotes in the State of the Union, often
having the person there to receive a brief spotlight and applause. These in-person call-outs always lend an
element of sentimentality to the address and every State of the Union since
Reagan has had them. It would be refreshing to hear a State of a Union without the
ritual of the in-person call-outs. Obama had three in the 2014 State of the
Union.
At least Obama makes
good use of his arguments by anecdote because in every case, the anecdote is
used to make a point that is based in reality, unlike Reagan, whose anecdotes
too often supported untrue statements or gave a distorted impression of what
the facts really were.
While it dominated
the news for the 24 hours leading up to the speech and the 24 hours after it,
Obama’s speech will not be remembered.
State of the Union addresses rarely are, probably because the President
has to talk about every aspect of his agenda—to stuff 10 pounds of ideas into
the proverbial five-pound bag.
