The 2012 presidential campaign has become a festival of gaffe-hopping.
The candidates skitter along on the surface of politics, issuing vague pronouncements or taking predictable shots at each other. But these seem like increasingly brief interludes, mere campaign busywork as each side awaits and -- abetted by an attention-deficit-disordered media -- pounces on the opponents' next gaffe.
Or supposed gaffe. The 2012 campaign has witnessed the full flowering of the faux gaffe, in which a candidate is skewered, generally out of context, for saying something that he clearly did not mean but that the other side finds immensely useful to misrepresent.
Mitt Romney's "I like being able to fire people" and "I'm not concerned about the very poor" fall into this category. So do Barack Obama's "the private sector is doing fine" and "you didn't build that."
It would be dreamily nave to moan that politics, once about high-minded ideas and detailed policy platforms, has now deteriorated into gaffe-sploitation.
Candidates' missteps have always mattered; e.g., George Romney on his Vietnam brainwashing or Gerald Ford's debate flub denying any Soviet domination of Eastern Europe. And some alleged gaffes -- Vice President Gore supposedly asserting that he invented the Internet or discovered Love Canal, for example -- have always had a questionable provenance.
Indeed, it was almost 30 years ago that columnist Michael Kinsley wrote that "the 'gaffe' is now the principal dynamic mechanism of American politics."
Prompted by a now-obscure Gary Hart gaffe (the candidate dissed New Jersey and proceeded to lose its primary), Kinsley wrote that "journalists record each new gaffe, weigh it on their Gaffability Index ('major gaffe,' 'gaffe,' 'minor gaffe,' 'possible gaffe' ... ), and move the players forward or backward on the game board accordingly."