Tuesday, July 14, 2009

The Sanford Panic


Something that struck me about the recent turn of events concerning Mark Sanford is how familiar the pattern was of his collapsing political support: it worked just like a bank run.

And this makes sense: just like with a bank, confidence in a politician is predicated on the belief that other people have confidence in that politician. So a sudden shock of lost confidence can trigger a self-sustaining feedback loop of further lost confidence: the more confidence is lost, the more likely it is that everyone will ultimately abandon Sanford, a realization that causes even more lost confidence, and so on.

But what is interesting about this case in particular is when the panic started, because it didn't start when the affair was unveiled--even despite his bizarre multi-day disappearance. Indeed, after Sanford had duly confessed in a televised speech and promised to atone for his sins, it appeared likely that his supporters would stand by him, and that he would remain in office. And when Michael Jackson's death took over the news cycle, conventional wisdom was that Sanford had lucked out and would definitely survive the ordeal.

The calls for his resignation eventually came--but only after his public confession/apology, as a result of an extended and very earnest interview with the AP, in which he made all sorts of heart-rending admissions and news-worthy observations that strayed from the usual prepackaged platitudes. From Politico:
“Two days ago there were very few people calling for his resignation,” said Rep. Bob Inglis (R-S.C.), who has not called for Sanford’s resignation. “It came out of that interview.”
And:
Another top Republican in the state said of the governor: “His support has collapsed.”
So what happened here? Well, I think it's not stretching things to put it this way: at a critical juncture, Sanford--with his odd behavior--spooked the investors. In American politics there are certain norms and rituals--certain scripts--which politicians typically conform to as a sort of kabuki. And while such rituals, in cases like these, inevitably lead to the most painfully inauthentic, glib expressions of human remorse, they also reassure supporters by signaling that they will be embarking on the same scripted set of steps that countless prior adulterous politicians have taken to successfully recover from scandal. It's the predictability of what will unfold that props up supporter confidence during this critical period.

When Sanford went "off-script", this sense of predictability vanished, and with it, his political support.

(Photo by Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com)

1 comment:

David Morris said...

Hi Inspector Clouseau,

Thanks for the comment.

While obviously it's always better for a politician not to disgrace himself, I don't think it follows from this that it is always better--from the standpoint of effectiveness in Congress--for that politician to resign. There are many factors involved in a Congressman's effectiveness: not just level of support from his constituents, but also his donor base, his seniority in Congress, the familiarity of his name to the electorate, his particular set of parochial special interests he has lined up that give him a reliable source of money and votes. A very entrenched Congressman can still be more effective than a newbie replacement, I think, even despite some amount of scandal and disgrace.

And besides: voters have a long history of forgiving the sorts of transgressions that Gov. Sanford made. If Sanford had stuck to the script, I think he'd still have the governor's mansion--with most of his support intact.