71. Politicians and Spin: Putting Lipstick on a Pig

In the 2010 election, Richard Blumenthal, the attorney general of Connecticut who ran for Christopher Dodd’s Democratic seat in the Senate, and Rand Paul, who ran for the Republican Senatorial seat in Kentucky, found themselves having to explain controversial statements they had made during the campaign—Mr. Blumenthal on the subject of whether he had seen active duty in Vietnam, and Mr. Paul on whether he would support the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Each man’s original statement had raised a firestorm in the media and on the Web, and each man had to make new statements to clarify his position.

In politics, this backtracking is known as spin, or “putting lipstick on a pig.” When the spin doesn’t cover the original tracks, even the spinners’ supporters look unkindly on the tactic.

• Democratic National Committee Chairman Tim Kaine, appearing on ABC’s This Week, said of Mr. Blumenthal’s controversy, “Those statements were wrong, period. They were wrong and it was very important for him to acknowledge that and clear that up.”^F71.1

• The New York Times’ Republican columnist, Ross Douthat, characterized Mr. Paul’s explanation as “conspicuously avoiding saying that he would have voted for the bill that outlawed segregation. By the weekend (and under duress), he finally said it. But the tap-dancing route he took to get there was offensive, tone deaf, and politically crazy.”^F71.2

As we the people have so painfully come to expect, spin does not clarify. At best, it digresses; at worst, it obfuscates. In business, spin is not an option. But politicians spin so often the public has come to tolerate it.

The most egregious example of political spin I have ever seen arrived in my mailbox via an email blast that indicated that it had been forwarded many times. If you receive as many such missives as I do, you are probably as dubious of its validity as I am. The story is very likely apocryphal, but I am taking the liberty of sharing the text with you to demonstrate just how far—and how creative—politicians will go to alter facts. (I have edited the names from the original email to avoid identifying the alleged perpetrator of the spin.)

The email described a professional genealogy researcher who had come across historic evidence that a sitting member of the U.S. Senate had a distant relative who was a horse thief and a train robber during the latter part of the nineteenth century. The relative had an interesting police record: He was arrested, sent to jail, and then escaped, but was ultimately caught and hanged. The researcher wrote to the senator inquiring about this relative. The senator’s office staff replied:

He was a famous cowboy. His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In 1889, he passed away during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed.

That is a shade of lipstick that would make Revlon blush.